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rubynationwins · 2 years

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Sleeping With A Friend (18+)

Soft!Dark!Bucky x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: When Bucky sees what you’re wearing for pajamas–or lack thereof–he can’t help how his body reacts. You’re a heavy sleeper anyway.

Main Masterlist

Warnings: Soft!Dark!Bucky, smut, non-con via somnophilia, intercrural sex(thigh sex), oral/fingering-f receiving, nude pics taken w/o consent, drunk & horny bucky, Bucky POV so a whole lot of dirty thoughts, pining, wet dreams, basically pwp, fluff, angst, poor self-esteem/body image issues. 18+ Minors DNI. DNR if you do not like or are triggered by such topics. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: 3,515

A/N: I’ve been working on this one for awhile, but I’m still calling it a “celebration” fic for Seb’s 40th b-day (ha!) I feel like it’s been forever since I wrote for one of his characters so this was the perfect motivation to finally finish this one up. Hopefully y’all are into this absolute filth I’ve written😘 Like, comment, reblog, I always appreciate feedback so plz let me know what u think!

This story should not be posted anywhere else without my express permission.

Thanks for reading!

-Ruby

Bucky stumbled through the front door of your flat, trying (and failing) to keep quiet in his semi-drunken state. He knew you’d be asleep at this hour and didn’t want to wake you. His night out hadn’t gone quite as planned, but if he couldn’t go home with someone from the bar, the next best thing was crashing at your place and hanging out in the morning. It also helped that he had a spare key, and that you lived 10 minutes away from the bar he’d been at, which may or may not have been planned in advance.

His original plan had been to crash on your couch, but when he laid down on it and barely fit, he knew he’d have to find a different option. He’d forgotten that your “couch” was more of a loveseat. A good portion of his legs hung off the armrest and only half of his body could fit on the cushions. Suffice to say, not an optimal choice for getting a good night’s rest.

It made sense you didn’t have a giant couch, though. You lived alone and whenever Bucky came over he just curled up next to you, normally with your legs slung over his nap. He wasn’t big on personal boundaries anyways. It’s a good thing you’d gotten used to that part of him. Because, in his opinion, when in his presence you should always be within arms reach and preferably already within his arms. He had never found someone so perfect for cuddling. You were just so soft, plus your scent made him dizzy. He really was lucky to have you as his best friend, and especially to have you as his cuddle buddy.

With the thought of your hugs in mind, Bucky rolled off the sorry excuse for a couch and tiptoed to your room. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d bunked with you, so it was fine, right? Bucky cracked open the door, and peered inside. He could just make out your covered, slumbering form in the middle of your queen-sized bed that was pressed into the far corner of the room.

He pulled off his jacket as he walked towards the bed, leaving himself in just his short-sleeved shirt and black joggers. They’d have to do for the night since he didn’t think you would appreciate waking up to his naked ass curled up next to you in the morning. He wished he’d left some pjs at your place, though, since your room was unusually hot. There must have been something wrong with your AC, because he knew you hated sleeping in the heat.

When he got to the side of your bed, he grabbed the thin sheet covering you and pulled it back. He stopped dead in his tracks.

You were curled up on your side, one leg lifted over the other, your arms wrapped around the wolf plushie he had bought you for your birthday this year.

That was not what gave him pause though. What made him still his movements and all the blood in his body drain to his crotch was what you were wearing.

More like what you weren’t wearing.

Only a thin crop top covered your torso. It stopped just above your navel. The only other thing on your body was a pair of pink panties that rode up your backside, covering a strip of your belly too. They weren’t fancy, looked like the simple cotton kind that was worn for comfort, not seduction. It didn’t matter what mainstream purpose they served, Bucky had never been more aroused by the sight of underwear in his life.

He gulped and his hand instinctively moved to his cock, palming it over his pants. A low groan emitted from his lips. You shifted at the sound and turned over on your back, exposing more of your front. Bucky felt close to bursting. Your shirt had ridden up and he could just make out the underside of your breasts. He gripped his cock tighter, this time holding in his groan.

Normally, around him, you wore comfy clothes: sweatpants, oversized shirts, leggings-he loved the leggings-but you never showed much skin. Sometimes you would wear shorts, but those stopped at your mid-thigh, denying Bucky any glimpse of the treasure that lay above. This sudden exposure of your soft skin unencumbered by fabric was too much for Bucky’s brain. His eyes couldn’t take in all your enchanting curves, gentle rolls, and adorable dimples fast enough.

The synopses in his brain were short-circuiting. He was running on pure adrenaline and primal instinct, so he couldn’t have possibly stopped his hand from plunging beneath his underwear. He gripped his throbbing cock and started hastily pumping his throbbing length, his steady breaths morphing into uncontrollable pants. The pressure of his tight fist felt so good but he soon needed more. How could he be satisfied by just looking at you when the temptation of your voluptuous body was right within reach?

He pulled down his pants with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his dick before he tentatively brought up a knee to rest on the bed. When you didn’t react to the weight shift, he brought up his other one. He was now kneeling just a foot away from you, still hesitating to cross that last line between you two.

When you shifted in your sleep again and opened up your legs to reveal your clothed core, he threw all caution to the wind. Fuck it. You were a heavy sleeper.

He placed his metal hand on your knee to test the waters and see if you reacted at all to the slight touch. You didn’t move. He slid it down to your hip and gave a gentle squeeze followed by a little shake. You dozed on. Sucking in a deep breath, he brushed his fingertips over the thin fabric covering your center. When you still didn’t react, he rubbed them over your folds, cock pulsing with want when he felt the warmth radiating from beneath your underwear. He brought his fingers back up and breathed in. Your intoxicating scent rolled over him like waves.

He had to taste you.

He hooked a finger on the side of your panties and pulled it over to reveal your naked pussy. Bucky could have passed out. You were perfect.

He leaned forward and slid his tongue between your folds, lapping at your damp core. When he flicked his tongue over your clit you let out a soft moan he stilled, his heart beating a mile a minute. He waited with bated breath, but the only thing that happened was a sudden increase in your arousal. Your juices coated his tongue and he lapped them up, savoring every last drop.

So your body was reacting to what he was doing… Bucky smiled at that revelation and focused his tongue on your clit again. He rolled the sweet bud, playing with it tenderly. His teeth grazed it and your thighs suddenly clenched around his head, caging him in. You were still asleep though. The pressure on the sides of his head didn’t bother him at all—he was a super soldier for god’s sake.

He continued lathering your bundle of nerves with attention as he slid his hand between your thighs and stroked over your dripping entrance. Slowly, he dipped his middle finger in, moaning into your cunt when he felt your pussy clench around the intruding digit. He imagined the feeling of your tight walls squeezing around his cock and he felt pre-cum leaking from the straining member. All of his focus stayed on you, though. He was fixated on your pleasure, needing you to come on his face and fingers.

He added another finger, but made sure to keep his movements languid, not wanting to jar you awake with a harsh, roaring orgasm. Instead, he rolled and sucked your clit gently, keeping the rhythm of his fingers slow as they curled up. A soft moan left your lips and he knew he’d hit the spot that would do you in.

He ground his fingers against your g-spot, and when he felt your walls clench around him, he sucked just a little harder on your throbbing clit. Your thighs trembled around his head and you gave a breathy gasp as a gush of your arousal spilled onto his fingers. He pulled them out and moved his mouth to drink up the heavenly liquid. After that, he popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking your sweetness off of them one by one.

Bucky glowed in the ecstasy of what he’d just accomplished. He had drawn a slow, deep orgasm from his best friend without you waking a wink. It was actually pretty impressive that you were such a heavy sleeper.

Your murmured sounds of pleasure as you floated down from your high made his dick throb with need. If you had slept through that, maybe Bucky could push the boundaries even further.

He pressed your thighs apart, gazing at the way your cunt beckoned him for more; to take as much pleasure as he had just given you. He furrowed his brow in thought. As much as he wanted to bury his pulsing cock deep in your tight heat, he knew if you woke up with an aching pussy you would know what happened. Because he knew you’d feel it in the morning if he stretched your little hole around his thick cock. Bucky didn’t want that. He needed to move slowly with you, tonight was just a little blip that arose from an opportunity he couldn’t have possibly denied.

Still, jerking off while looking at you wasn’t good enough. He squeezed your thighs as he contemplated his options and his heart skipped a beat as he came up with a perfect compromise. His eyes flew to the plush appendages. He pushed them together and dipped his hand between the apex of your thighs. He sucked in a breath when he felt just how warm and soft it was. This had to be the next best thing behind actually fucking you.

He reached down to your pussy and scooped up some of your fluids and rubbed them on your inner thighs to get them nice and wet. The pre-cum leaking out of his dick would help too. Still on his knees, he scooted closer, his metal arm wrapped around your legs holding them over his shoulder.

He looked down at your wanting body. The afterglow of your orgasm shone across your entire being. Your shirt had ridden up even more and your breasts were now on full display. He leaned forward and blew on one of your nipples, grinning when it stiffened. He plucked it gently with his fingers before returning to the main event.

With your thighs held together, he slid his cock right in between them, directly over your mound; he was barely able to hold back an animalistic growl at the vivid sensation. He pushed his dick further, and watched as it was engulfed by your velvety thighs. When his pelvis finally rested flush against them, and the tip of his dick stuck out the other side, he let out the breath he had been holding in.

He slid his hips back and started to slowly, but steadily, fuck your thighs.

The thighs he had spent countless hours fantasizing about. The thighs he would get secret pleasure from touching whenever he could. The thighs that were now swallowing his dick so perfectly it was a miracle he hadn’t cum yet. As he methodically thrusted, heady with the incredible feeling, he reached his hand out and plucked at your nipple. He couldn’t resist. You let out another faint moan and he rolled the little nub with his thumb before pinching it lightly.

“Bucky-”

He stilled when the sound of his mumbled name came from your lips. You had woken up. He’d been found him out. What was he going to do? You were going to kick him out and he’d never see you again.

After a few seconds of waiting for your to wrench away from him in disgust, he finally peered down at your tender face. Your eyes were still closed and your breathing hadn’t changed. Maybe he had misheard you.

“Bucky-fuck yes, please. Bucky-”

Your back arched slightly, pushing your breast further into his palm. You purred in your sleep, and he felt your thighs rub together-which felt like heaven. Your head flipped to the side and you let out more moans, your volume gradually increasing. His very name was uttered every few words. You slightly bucked your hips and your arms tussled in the covers.

Oh god. You were having a wet dream. About him. Bucky could have jumped for joy. He would, if his dick wasn’t shoved between your thighs and he wasn’t as hard as he’d ever been in his entire life. Instead, he let out little pleasure-filled murmurs of his own, whispering your name like a prayer that was finally being answered. He splayed his hand out on your chest feeling the rapid beat of your heart. When he felt the rumble in your chest as you, in your sleep, begged for him to fuck you, he went feral.

It was a sign, if he was in your dreams and your body was this turned on, it wouldn’t be long until you were actually his. Just the thought of you awake, staring up at him with lust filled eyes as you opened your legs, ready for him to slide into your dripping cunt, set him on fire. His hand left your tits and he wrapped both arms around your thick thighs as he pistoned his cock back and forth. With every quick stroke, it brushed over your needy clit, making you buck your hips slightly.

Bucky could tell you were right up there with his own mounting orgasm. He angled his hips down slightly to give you more pressure and he must have hit something just right because your whole body spasmed and you let out a curdled groan, practically shouting his name.

“Buckyyy!”

Your cry pushed him over the edge and he came too, coating your stomach in his seed. All he could do as his cum spurted out of his aching dick was chant endless words of praise for how good you felt, how he couldn’t wait to one day fill your pussy with his cum too. He wanted to dominate every part of you, claim what had been his. When he had spent every last drop, he pulled away and gently set your legs down. He slid a finger through the mess he’d made on your belly and a shudder ran down his back. He’d finally done it. Bucky had marked you with his seed.

Panting, he jumped out of the bed and headed to the bathroom to grab something to wipe up his cum. He came back, but paused before he cleaned you up. He bent down and swiped up his phone from his jacket pocket.

He flipped to his camera app. The open window and clear sky cast just enough light for him to capture your mostly naked state without using the flash. You were a picture of pure beauty, skin glistening with sweat and covered in his cum. He reached forward and pulled your shirt up further, getting a snapshot of your incredible tits, your nipples were still stiff peaks.

He felt his dick stirring again, but took in a deep breath to calm himself. The next time he came with you in the room, it was going to be inside of you while you screamed his name and clawed at his back. These photos were just a memento to mark such a special occasion. And to help him wade through the tide as he waited for you to open your legs willingly, or at least knowingly, to him.

With his new treasures saved to his camera roll, he tossed his phone back on the pile of clothes. He cleaned his cum from your stomach, making sure he got all of the sticky fluid. He walked back to the bathroom and tossed the now sodden rag in the trash under the sink, hidden from sight. Tomorrow, he’d be a dear and take the garbage to the dumpster for you.

He walked back into your room and pulled on his pants before hopping back into bed beside you. He fixed your shirt and underwear so that they were back in place. He ran his hands over the wet spot blooming on your panties, but there was nothing he could do about that. Oh well. He pulled you into his chest and quickly dosed off into the best sleep of his life, dreaming of delectable curves and the sound of his name on your lips.

________________________________________

You were having the best dream. Cool, metal fingers were moving between your thighs as heated lips melted into yours, taking your breath away. The sensations felt so good. So right. You were about to whisper the words you’d been wanting to say for years, but a beeping pinged through the lusty fog. Just like that, the lips and hand were gone, though a warm presence still lingered.

You kept your eyes screwed shut, heeding the images to return, but they were gone. You were not happy that your, now silent, alarm had chosen that exact moment to wake you up. Though that wasn’t the only dream you’d had with a certain dark haired super soldier that night. It had been filled with your beautiful best friend; the two of you intertwined in lecherous passion.

Finally, you squinted your eyes open and soon realized that the heated presence from your vanished dream wasn’t just imagined. You blinked, surprised to find Bucky sleeping right next to you. You would have wondered why he was in your bed when he definitely hadn’t been there when you’d gone to sleep, but you were too distracted by his slumbering face.

His long, black eyelashes dusted cast faint shadows across his slightly pinkened cheeks, and a dark strand of hair had fallen out of place. You brushed it back behind his ear and smiled at how soft he looked like this. The fact that he could relax and be so open and vulnerable around you made your heart swell. You felt the same way around him; safe and secure. You trusted him with your whole being, he truly was your best friend.

A part of you saddened at that last thought. Deep down, you yearned to be so much more, but you were too scared to make a move. You knew Bucky loved you, but you didn’t know if he could love all of you. If he could want all of you. It was hard to look at his sculpted body and chiseled features, and believe that a person so attractive could possibly be interested in you.

You sighed, trying to shake the unnecessary thoughts from your head as you sat up, gently lifting his arm from where it rested across your waist. As you shifted, you felt a dampness between your thighs, and the realization that you had been dreaming about him all night shot through you like a flame. Oh god, what if you’d said anything in your sleep? What if he’d heard you? You didn’t know how long he’d been there.

Another realization sprung in your head and you looked down. You actually gave an audible gasp. You were practically naked from the waist down. He had seen you wearing your ugly granny panties and your old t-shirt from college that you’d cropped a just little too short.

The fact that he had seen you in such a state brought tears to your eyes. There was no way he was going to be even slightly interested in you romantically now that he knew what you looked like underneath all the modest clothes you normally sported around him.

You leaped out of bed, not caring if you disturbed him, and scuttled to the bathroom; grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt from your closet on your way. You didn’t care that your AC was broken.

You rushed into the bathroom and shut the door, springing into the shower. Thoughts spun through your head, but you just kept telling yourself that it had been too dark for him to see anything. That he had been too tired when he got there to take notice of all your imperfections on display. That you really didn’t need to worry. When it felt like you could breathe again, you stepped out of the shower. You grabbed a towel, but caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you dried off. You frowned and quickly looked away from the glaring image.

Bucky was way too good for you.

________________________________________

In your room, Bucky was sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting for you to finish your shower. He was smiling from ear to ear as he swiped through the photos he’d taken last night.

God, you were perfect for him.

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yokasaris · 2 years

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Prompt #22- Veracity

FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge Normally half a bell or so of napping, perhaps even a full bell if he wanted to treat himself, would suffice to see him through the night. However, Zhan'a had awoken after two bells feeling as warmed over death. He hadn't actually meant to fall asleep in the first place. Sahzi slept as well in a free stall of the chocobo porter's, at Clive's insistence. Sometimes having a Wailer friend could pay off. Waes had remained by her aunt's side, so Zhan'a did not have to convince her to stay as he slipped back into the woods once more. With Sahzi's disdain for Gridanians she wouldn't be a reliable source of information when she woke. Likewise, he still didn't quite trust the Wailers’ account when they relayed what information they could. So, there was only one avenue open to him. The same one as before: to find the other Rakhins. The Keeper took the journey to the familiar territory much more slowly this time, but his resolve never wavered. This was the only reason he could imagine Sahzi travelling this far south. To seek out the same people he sought. When he did finally find the warm glow of firelight beneath an outcropping of rock, he thanked every deity he could name that he'd found them at the first possible location. There were few miqo'te present, most probably gone hunting or the like, but they still offered some scant few words of welcome, including one call of 'Welcome, little Cousin.' He couldn't take the Wailer's hurried words at face value, but at least here he could hopefully confirm their veracity. After all, he spotted one of Sahzi's daughters sitting ashen-faced by the fire. They must know something.

#ffxivWrite2022 #ffxivWrite #first day i just really didn't want to write #so busy and feelin blah ugh #just throw some words down

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

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Quiet Music: Obbligato (Chapter Seven)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Off to the races with no time for nights gone wrong. Being at a wit's end deserves a reward, one of teasing breaths and words, adding to the stories the hallway could tell. Vulnerable words pinned to the wall and kissing it all better.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 7187

***

The morning was awkward, to say the least. Y/n had woken up first and before she could even look at the man beside her, her phone started ringing, management was calling. So she was off to work. No time for the thoughts that were still running around in her mind. No time to process.

They didn’t get to talk, she and Damiano. Both of them were hurrying to get packed up and get the others woken up to then get to the airport. It seemed impossible to find a quiet minute with just the two of them, some privacy, some peace of mind. The call from that morning was their manager, who had already been up for two hours ranting about some of the changes that needed to be made. Today it was going from zero to one hundred with no end in sight.

She had hoped things would calm down as they reached the airport, but chaos seemed to follow wherever they went. It started with Victoria panicking because she couldn’t locate her jacket anymore - she made sure to let everyone in the greater vicinity know that it was her absolute favourite and she had worn it in Rotterdam and she could not go anywhere, much less fly to London, without it. Luckily this ended up being one of Y/n’s easiest tricks that day. After retracing their steps throughout the terminal the jacket was quickly reclaimed from a lovely barista at a café who had collected it for safekeeping.

Y/n was hoping to catch her breath for a moment, but then Chili was being an absolute nuisance. Contrary to her normally chill and relaxed state of being, she now insisted on being cuddled and petted and having all the attention on her. Unfortunately, no one’s but Y/n’s attention would do, so she was stuck with a wriggling fur ball in her arms for the foreseeable future. It didn’t help when Ethan ran up to her in a panic, having realised that his hairbrush was missing. She wanted to calm him down, explain that there were more than enough shops to get a new one in London, but apparently, there was no hairbrush quite like it as if it was the magical reason behind his shiny hair. So with a sigh and Chili pressed against her, she called the hotel in Amsterdam requesting for them to look for the missing item and please send it to London. Express. They would be there for three days and it better arrive during that time. The confused receptionist promised to do her best.

When Y/n heavily fell into her seat on the plane she was looking forward to either a quick nap or a chance to talk to Damiano, who she conveniently chose to sit next to, but all plans evaporated as soon as Thomas claimed the aisle seat, excitedly chattering away. She could tell he was looking forward to getting back to London and having some free time there on top of it, but she really didn’t need to hear the story of how they all lived there for a while yet again. Damiano sent her a pitiful look, but all she could do was shrug. Shrug, lean back, and let Thomas’ talk lure her into sleep, hopefully.

***

Luckily, the flight wasn’t as bad this time around. Y/n still held tightly to her coat on lift-off and landing, but that seemed to be the extent of her uncomfortableness. Damiano kept his eyes on her, on the bandage around her wrist, as if waiting for it to come undone and her right along with it. It didn’t happen. They touched down in London within less than an hour.

Heathrow airport was crowded with fans. For the first time on that tour, it had gotten really bad. Security managed to keep people at bay though as the band and crew made their exit, not stopping for photos and full of apologies for having to leave. The shouting, the reaching hands, and the flashing cameras seemingly did nothing to improve Y/n’s mood, Damiano thought. Her face remained neutral, but he could see the little signs underneath. A short cab ride later, and the usual busy atmosphere of arriving at a hotel for the first time engulfed them. People moving luggage, figuring out rooming arrangements, crowding the lobby. Damiano stayed out of it, smoking a quick cigarette with Thomas and Ethan outside, before heading inside as well.

Damiano didn’t notice that anything was wrong until Y/n started raising her voice. It wasn’t like her. In the past two weeks of working with her, he had encountered her in a number of stressful situations. Enough that would make him lose his mind, but she was calm and collected, the type to take a deep breath instead of shouting at someone. So the way she was currently staring down the receptionist at the hotel that they were checking into both intrigued and bothered him. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself, he got closer to the scene, fumbling with some of their luggage standing next to the desk, just to listen in more closely.

“Check again, please,” Y/n requested, politeness nothing but a necessary feature in this conversation. “I do not have the time or the patience to deal with this mistake at this current moment.”

Damiano could see she was at her wit’s end, yet the need to stay professional was obvious.

“Bloody hell... You’d think after all of today at least one thing would go well. But no, I am stuck dealing with a broken computer and missing rooms.”

The man behind the counter sent her a slightly panicky look, hands shuffling between papers and typing on the keyboard in front of him.

“I can only apologise, I will do my absolute best to rectify this mistake,” the receptionist stated, voice much less steady than Y/n’s. She shook her head slightly, pulling out her phone and starting to type something into it. Probably updating their manager on what is happening.

“I sincerely hope that this is the last of the mistakes your hotel will be committing. We’re paying good money for this hotel, but London is big and I don’t think anyone would hesitate to book us somewhere else next time if the service here doesn’t suffice.” The air around her felt like static electricity, everything was prickly and on fire. “Now, please check again and then either have the correct number of rooms waiting for us or figure out another way to solve this problem. I know this probably isn’t your fault, but this needs a solution.”

The man standing in front of them quickly understood what was being asked of him. Y/n's body had remained creepily still through this, her eyes never leaving the person in front of her.

It was over as soon as it hard started. The receptionist handed her the keys and quickly mumbled something about the rooms being on the fifth floor and to the left. Y/n nodded, not necessarily happy, but visibly glad it was over. Turning around she faced Dami with an indescribable look on her face. He couldn’t believe what just happened, and how it was handled by their assistant. Looking at her right now she was agitated, sure, but whatever power she had just possessed? Damiano wanted to see it again.

***

The band crowded into the lift, and with each ding passing a floor Damiano’s need to do something grew. Attention was an easy thing for the singer to come by. Most of the time it was freely given and even then tenfold due to - well, Damiano being Damiano. But wanting attention was different, and wanting her attention, in particular, was a relatively new concept.

“Fifth Floor,” the monotone voice announced. Y/n made quick work handing everyone their room keys until she was only hanging to her own and Damiano’s. He took his chance.

“Can I walk you to your room?”

“Sure,” she answered, but the look in her eyes told him she was a little suspicious of his actions.

As they got closer to the door Damiano saw his chance. Reassuring himself that the hallway was now deserted of his bandmates, he quickly grabbed her - healthy! - wrist, turning her around and pressing her against the wall next to the door. Her expression was one of shock and surprise as he moved in closer, keeping her wrist against the wall and trapping her between his arms as he leaned against his hand on the other side of her head. Her breathing quickened noticeably and he couldn’t suppress a grin as he watched her look into his eyes, before flickering down to his lips and back up again. There was very little doubt concerning what she was thinking about. He had her in the palm of his hand. Right where he wanted her.

“You know, seeing you getting all hot and bothered down there… Very sexy.” His voice was low and gravelly. He was doing his absolute best to get her to falter under him, not shying away from employing all the tricks in the book. He moved in even closer now, only breaking eye contact when the angle made it impossible. His mouth to her ear, not quite touching, but close enough that he was sure she could feel his breath on her skin. “I should thank you… for all the… hard work you do.”

He resisted the temptation of pushing into her, letting his body collide with hers, letting her know exactly what he was talking about. Not now, not yet, he told himself. Instead, his hand carefully let go of her wrist, travelling down her arm, her side, across her body, with the softest touch, until he reached her other hand, which was grasping tightly onto the remaining room key. In a flash, he had snatched it out of her palm, backed away from her, and with a wink and a smirk that hopefully told her all she needed to know, he turned around to make his way to his room.

“Damiano! We still need to talk!” Y/n whisper-shouted. One look at her face was enough. Her skin had turned that favorable shade of red that Damiano had grown to love so much. She was still leaning against the wall, apparently not trusting her feet to carry her just yet. As he made his way to his room he couldn’t help but notice the bubbling of pride in his chest. Whatever she wanted to talk about, he was convinced it was going to go his way.

***

There was one person in this entire world that would be able to help sort out the mess in Y/n’s head. Stepping out onto the balcony, she quickly clicked her best friend’s name. One, two rings, and the familiar face popped up on her screen with a wide smile.

“Hi, love! How- oh my god, what is wrong?” Y/n’s face had always been much too easy to read for her friends.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Y/n protested, but the way her friend raised her eyebrows let her know that she would not get away with it. “Fine, that was a lie. Couple of things have gone wrong actually. Starting with my wrist!”

Y/n held the offending body park up into view, speech getting quicker as she continued.

“Fell onto it trying to escape Damiano and a private conversation he had with Victoria that I probably shouldn’t have heard. But I did, and I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it, and it’s bothering me quite a bit actually, which is silly, because all I’m supposed to do here is my job, right? But now I think that he doesn’t want to be in the same space as me, which is a problem, to say the least, but at the same time he does? He literally just got all up in my space actually, so I don’t know what’s happening?”

“Wow okay, take a breath and start from the beginning, please.”

And so Y/n did, catching her friend up on every single detail of the past days, every little look, every single word uttered, every movement made. She didn’t spare a single detail or blush-inducing moment.

“I don’t know what to do, or think, or say. I think I know what is happening, but then he turns around and does the opposite of what I’m expecting. It's infuriating.”

“Ah yes, let me guess. He’s constantly around, whatever you do? Checkin up on your, catching your eyes, always happens to sit next to you?”

“He does… Why do I feel like everyone here knows what is going on but me?”

"Y/n, listen. You're my best friend, but you're the dumbest human being I've ever encountered. It is so obvious that he likes you, it's almost painful to hear you talk about and not realise. Look at the way he is taking care of you, the way he tries to make you laugh, how he constantly wants your attention on him - why on earth do you think he's doing that? You need to talk to him, seriously."

“But I overheard-”

"You didn't hear shit! You don't even know the context of what he said! Now listen to me: You like him. He likes you. If I'm wrong about this, I'll personally allow you to come back home and beat me up ok?" A sigh came through the line, her friend's voice getting softer. "I know the past years have been hard on you. And I know you don't like letting people in. But you've got to take a chance every now and then and Damiano sounds like he'll be worth it. From what you've told me, it sounds like he sees you exactly for what you are: brilliant, clever, caring, beautiful. Don't let this go to waste, love."

"You know I hate it when you're right. But you probably are." Y/n felt much calmer already, even though the mere thought of having that talk with Damiano made her feel slightly queasy again. "I should talk to him. My head will never stop spinning otherwise."

"Well, I love it when I'm right! So I'm hanging up right now so you can go talk to him, bye love!"

Her face disappeared from the screen in an instant.

***

“She’s right, you know? You should talk to him.” Victoria watched as Y/n almost jumped at the sound of her voice. She had concentrated so hard on whoever she was video-calling that she hadn’t noticed her enter the balcony next door. Now, Vic hadn’t meant to listen, but privacy on tour was a fickle thing and as soon as she realised what - or who - the topic of conversation was, she couldn’t help herself.

“Oh! Hi, Vic. Sorry, what?” Y/n asked, quite obviously startled. “I’m assuming you heard most of that conversation then.”

“I did. But that’s okay, please don’t worry about it. You know, I’m saying this as your friend as well as Damiano’s friend: Talk this thing out, whatever it is. We’ve all been watching you dance around each other, but one of you needs to have the guts to make a move. I know Damiano seems like a cocky know-it-all sometimes, but if you get down to it, he’s just as insecure and shy. So I think this is on you. Invite him over, order some room service, have a talk. If it goes poorly, you can always text me and I’ll come over. And help you finish the food.”

Victoria was glad to see Y/n let out a small giggle. Over the course of the whole tour, she had never seen her quite this stressed out. Sooner or later it would impact her job performance - just as it was starting to affect Damiano’s. She’d long noticed how distracted he was. It didn’t even matter whether Y/n was in the room or not, his thoughts constantly seemed to be spinning around the same thing. The same person, rather. At this point, it was in everyone’s best interest to get these two to talk it out. She trusted them to be sensible enough about it not to let it affect their work if it went wrong. At least not the way their mutual obsession with each other was doing now.

Y/n nodded.

“Thanks, Vic. What do I have to lose, right? I mean, a lot, technically, but you know. Thanks.”

Victoria watched as Y/n shot her one more worried look, before turning and getting back to her room. She made sure to shout after her just before the door closed.

“Tell me how it goes!”

***

“It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be fine, this is going to go my way, I’m going to say my part and it will all be fine,” Y/n mumbled to herself as she paced back and forth in her hotel room. Time and time again, she found herself checking her phone, needing to convince herself she had actually sent the message to Damiano, inviting him to her room for a conversation. He hadn’t replied, but the little blue check marks told her he had read it.

Okay, keep calm. You're going to have a conversation about this, like the adults that you are. You ask to clarify what you overheard and you'll stay calm, whatever his answer is. At the end of the day, this is work. And if you need to cry, you can do it once he's left. Easy.

A knock on the door interrupted her thought process. For a moment, she considered ignoring it. Pretending like she wasn’t there. But that wasn’t going to work, was it? Not forever, anyway.

“Y/n, you said you wanted to talk?” Damiano’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Time to face the music, I guess, Y/n thought to herself. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped to the side to let him in. Damiano hesitated for a second, as if contemplating how to greet her, but then simply smiled at her before stepping in. The nervous energy engulfed both of them immediately and she caught him looking around the room for a moment before deciding to take a seat at the foot of her bed. She couldn’t even think about sitting down. Instead, she was pacing the room like a caged animal.

“Um, so, I called you here for a meeting.” Y/n picked at her nails looking anywhere in the room that wasn’t at Damiano.

“A meeting? Y/n, really?” He chuckled. “If these meetings involve me visiting your hotel room, feel free to invite me over for them more often.”

“Damiano! I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Sorry, sorry, go ahead.” He waved at her to continue as he leaned back on the bed. He looked delectable, and Y/n had to actively tear her eyes away to focus on what she had meant to talk about with him.

“I overheard you and Vic talking at the second-hand shop. Something about you not wanting me around? Before I overthink this even more than I already have, I should probably ask you what that was about.” She stopped pacing and quickly looked at Damiano waiting for a reaction.

“Wait, you heard that?” He suddenly sat up again, urgency visible in his face. “Did you hear the whole thing or… only me saying that?”

“Only that apparently ‘I'm everywhere you look’ and you can’t seem to get rid of me.” She forced a scoff, although she would rather cry at the memory if she was being honest. “I know I shouldn’t have heard that conversation, but I did. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. That's why I ran out of the shop.”

She watched as Damiano buried his head in his hands, making a sound that was something between a laugh and a groan. “Seems like you missed the important part.” A deep sigh rattled through his chest as he looked up at her. “What I said before that was that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About kissing you. That’s why it’s so hard to see you everywhere, to have you around so much.” He slowly stood up, walking over to her in tentative movements. “It’s because I want to kiss you all the time.”

She took a step back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Anything to protect herself, to keep up some sort of composure. Letting her guard down too early was the worst thing she felt she could do. An expression that was both alarmed and confused flashed across her face. “You - wait … no, that's not - hold on.” She squinted her eyes at him trying to figure out if there was any hint of deception in him. “You wouldn’t lie to me… would you?”

He stood in front of her now, eyes staring her down with nothing but honesty. “I like to joke around but not with things like these, okay? I would never put you in that position. But when we accidentally kissed in Amsterdam? I wish it hadn’t been accidental at all.” His hand was reaching out to her, softly touching her arm, as if to test the waters. To see if she would pull away.

She stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity. Yet, she didn’t move away from him this time. “I’m sorry... for how I acted at the hospital. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do with you most of the time it seems.” A small smile flickered on her lips, unable to keep it at bay. “I’m sorry, I’m… not all that good at being vulnerable. In case that hadn’t become obvious yet. But I agree, you know. Kissing you should be on purpose.”

“It’s fine, it was a rough day. Now that I know what you heard, even more so for you,” he smiled back at her. His hand was wandering up her arm now, softly resting on her shoulder, just inches away from the bare skin on her neck. She was sure she could feel his warmth there already. “We’ll figure it out together, yeah? Starting with an actual kiss? On purpose?”

She blinked at him, before looking down at his chest, slowly grabbing onto the collar of his shirt. Playing the fabric between her fingers, anything to keep her nervousness under control. “Yeah, that would be good. Gotta test it out, right?” She looked back up at him, a pink tint growing across her cheeks.

“Yeah, just a test,” he mumbled, coming closer still. His hand wandered further upwards, tingling along her bare skin, before softly grabbing her neck to pull her into him. He was moving slowly, almost tormentingly so, as his breath fanned her face, eyes wandering back and forth between her own and her mouth. Her heart was beating impossibly fast now. If he wasn’t going to do anything soon, she would collapse, she was sure of it.

“Just kiss me already.”

And then his lips were on hers, soft and gentle, but with a force behind it that let her know he meant it. It was nothing like the kiss in Amsterdam. This was a kiss with purpose, long-lived desire finally being realised, feeling poured into every move they made. If this was a test, they were passing it with flying colours. Everything felt simply right. His lips against hers, his hand tangling in her hair, her arms wrapping themselves around him. Any doubt whether this was the right thing to do, whether this was what she wanted, ceased to exist. She couldn’t tell how long they were standing there, kissing, exploring, enjoying each other, but when they finally parted, she found herself catching her breath. Silly smiles painted on both of their faces. She buried her face in his chest, almost a little embarrassed now.

“That went well,” she giggled, unlike she did in Amsterdam. This high was different.

Damiano’s hand pushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear, tender touch lasting on her face a little too long, but she wouldn’t complain. He quickly pressed another needy kiss against her lips, before pulling her to sit on the bed with him. “So, now what? Not that I wasn’t enjoying that, but we should probably talk about where we’re gonna go from here.”

She nodded. “Well, work comes first. Not that I wasn’t having fun either. But, both of us know that the most important thing is you performing the best you can. I guess we go with your plan. Figure it out together. I don’t want to force anything.” Always trying to ground herself back into reality - it was the way she was built. A moment of insanity, yes, but never more. “Though, on days off… if you...” Her mouth opened but no more words came.

“I like the sound of that,” Damiano grinned, seemingly unable to stop himself from stealing another kiss from her lips. “And on days off...? Say it, Y/n, no need for shyness here.”

“Ah!” Grabbing a pillow off the bed, she smacked him playfully. “I was trying to have a semi-serious conversation here, Dami!” Her face screwed into a pout, before transforming into a teasing smile. “If you’re gonna be like that, you won’t hear my idea at all.”

He immediately let go of her, hands in the air in surrender. “Fine, woman, no more teasing from me… for now.”

She leaned in closer. “Is that a threat? Or a promise? I was gonna say we could go out on a date. But,” she shrugged, “up to you.” Standing up she walked over to the phone on the desk, picking up the room service menu with her other hand. “Do you want anything? If we are gonna figure this out, we might as well have food.” It was no secret that she was trying to create space between the two of them. A little distance, a little chance to breathe, too afraid of a fire being set ablaze if they stayed any closer.

“Whatever pizza they have, please. It won’t quite be like home but even bad pizza is still pizza.” He watched as she picked up the phone, quickly muttering some words he didn’t understand down the line. “And then come back here. We should probably talk some more.”

She nodded, quickly finishing the conversation on the line, before sitting back down on the bed next to him, backs resting against the headboard. “Alright, so, talk about what? I know there are things to discuss but, what are you thinking right now?”

“How do you want to go on about this?” He asked, taking her hand and playing with it absentmindedly. “Do you want to tell the others anything?”

“We have to tell Vic, probably. She’ll never get off our case otherwise. Apart from that... I assumed that we would sort of make up for lost time. Be a bit more open, affection-wise. Or at least not feel like we have to hide it when I wanna kiss you. I don’t want to say we are dating. I don’t want to put a label on something that's this new. Rushing into something like this is just a recipe for hurt.” She found herself staring into the distance for a moment, thoughts running away with her, before turning back to him. “Do you want to tell people? I mean if you did that would be fine. I’d manage, you know.”

“No, actually. I’m quite fine with as few people knowing as possible. I just… There’s no need to get everyone involved in something that we’re literally still figuring out ourselves, right? And I definitely don’t need the fans to know. At least not yet. If that’s okay with you?”

“Dami, you do know that, if this becomes a long-term thing... They will hate me. It won’t be just your fans either. Management, event organisers, they won’t want me there, people will tell you to break up with me all the time. There will be a lot of rude comments. People will edit me out of pictures. Because that's how it is. Are you sure you’re okay with all that? This won’t be easy and I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your success. The band's success.” She wasn’t making eye contact now, nervously picking at her nails instead. This was his chance to step back, to change his mind, and she was more afraid of it than she let on.

“Well, first of all, they can all fuck off, okay? No one gets to talk about you like that, not in front of me. If they don’t see you the way that I see you - or at least respect it-, they’re no real fans anyway.” He reached out, softly holding onto her chin and turning her face towards him. “I don’t care about anyone but you in this, okay? If anything, you’re the one pushing me to go farther, work harder, be better. Yeah?”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” Her hand went to the one holding her face, kissing his palm and then pressing it into her cheek. “I mean it though. It will be hard and confusing, and I am not that good at communicating my feelings. You could have anyone in the world and you picked me which I will never understand, but I’m thankful for it. Both of us are workaholics. It won’t just be you having a busy schedule. Are you absolutely positive? Because if not...”

Taking her face into both of his hands now, he made sure she was looking at him. “I am more than positive. I want this, I want you, I want it all. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes for you to believe that.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, warm and inviting, and she was sure she could feel every single one of his emotions in it. There was nothing but love. Coming up for air, they let their foreheads meet, a moment of unspoken agreement.

“We will do it together, yeah?” She whispered as she pressed a kiss onto his lips once again before her face broke out in a grin. “Fuckin hell… Sorry, I just realized that we can kiss and hug and everything all the time now and without it being weird.” Grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers, she rested her head on his shoulder. Both of them simply content in the silence of the room and the company of each other. After a while, Y/n looked up at him again. “Do you have any concerns though?”

“No real worries. Just... I don’t know. I just want to stare at you for a bit. Do you even know how crazy you make me? Throughout this whole tour I have been losing my mind!” His eyes flickered over her face, down her body, and back up. He kissed the top of her head. “Y/n you have no clue what you do to me. You remember when you body checked that guy into the wall in Germany?” She nodded as he lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “Cold showers did nothing for me that night.”

Giggles rattled her chest as she hid her face in her hand, feeling a slight blush coming on.

“Hey, no hiding that face from me!” Grabbing at her hands, he tried to pull them back down, but she resisted through her laughter. Desperately trying to pry her hands away, Damiano pinned her down onto the bed, back flush against the mattress, but he still wasn’t succeeding. In a last-ditch effort, he straddled her ample hips. The surprise of it all had her removing her hands on her own immediately, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Now, was that so hard?”

In one quick move, she locked her knees under his and flipped him over, making her sit on top of him. His body thudded into the mattress, jaw dropping, and a little hint of a blush appearing out of nowhere.

“Sorry love, won’t happen again,” she grinned, sending him another wink, before getting off of the stunned singer.

Y/n jumped up off the bed and started to rummage through the mini-fridge. Behind her, she heard the unmistakable sound of Damiano’s phone vibrating. And again. And again.

“What’s going on with that thing?” She asked over her shoulder, unable to hide a grin. Damiano sighed heavily, reading through the messages that seemed to keep coming.

“It’s Vic.”

“What’s she saying?”

Another buzzing sound interrupted them.

“Asking if we’re making out yet. Letting us know that she can hear us laughing. Wanting to know if we’ve fucked yet. Complaining that I’m not answering her messages.”

Damiano’s speech was, in turn, interrupted by Y/n’s phone letting out a similar buzzing noise. With a frown on her face, she gathered it from the nightstand, only to erupt into giggles at the message displayed on her screen.

“What’s so funny?”

“Vic has written, and I quote: ‘As happy as I am that this seems to be going well, I was actually looking forward to indulging in room-service food with you’ with a lot of frowny emojis added.”

Forming a fist with his hand, Damiano roughly hit the wall behind him - the one he knew connected the room to Victoria’s.

“Go get your own room service!” He shouted, and the laughter on the other side, paired with a flurry of emojis reaching both of their phones shortly after let them know she had heard.

“Oh stop it, whatever will you do without a bassist if she starves!” Y/n laughed. “Wait, how’s this.” Y/n coughed, preparing to change her voice into the best impression of Victoria she could muster. “Dami, you bastardo! Give me food!”

A knock on the door - much too polite to be Victoria’s - caught their attention, and Y/n scrambled to open it. A little wagon full of silver plates adorned with various meals greeted her. Not even caring about the confused look on the waiter’s face, she made quick work of grabbing most of what was on the tray and carrying it over to the desk, until only a few things were left.

“Would you mind bringing the rest to the woman next door? Thank you very much.”

As soon as she had closed the door behind her, she caught Damiano’s gaze, wide smile on his face.

“Whatever it takes to make Vic happy, hm?”

Y/n grinned. “Whatever it takes to get Vic to leave us alone.”

***

Y/n had no idea where she was when she woke up the next morning. It only lasted for a moment though - until it all came crashing down on her, the talk with Damiano, the kisses they'd shared, how they had spent the rest of the evening watching trash tv and stuffing themselves with food, until he had left for his own room, placing one last lingering kiss on her lips. She couldn't contain a smile at the memories. For a minute, she allowed herself to lay in bed, reminiscing about the way his mouth felt on hers and how she was now allowed to do that all the time. But work called, and the usual routine caught up with her. Getting ready for the day, re-checking the busy plan for the day, waking up the band. It was only in front of Damiano's room that she faltered a bit, before shaking it off and entering.

Damiano looked peaceful, fast asleep, the blanket only coming up to his waist. With quiet footsteps, she walked over to the bed, taking the view in for as long as she allowed herself. Her usual wake-up tricks would include pulling back curtains, gently talking, stealing blankets, a little shake if necessary. But the turn of their relationship was now providing her with new possibilities. Leaning down, she blew a bit of air against his cheek, watching as his eyelids fluttered but not quite opened yet. A little kiss followed on his cheek, just barely touching his skin. Then a kiss on his inviting lips. She almost pulled back, when a strong hand held onto the back of her head, Damiano suddenly wide awake and kissing her back.

"I could get used to these wake-up calls."

“Well, be a good boy and get dressed and you might be getting them more often,” she grinned, already halfway out the door. She knew if she didn’t leave now she probably wouldn’t for a while, and they did not have time for any delays.

“That better be a promise!” Damiano shouted after her, and she giggled, all the way back to her room, never having looked forward to a day of work quite this much.

***

The day was one of their most hectic ones yet, jumping between the hotel, the venue for soundcheck, dinner, a radio station, and back to the venue. Yet, for once, Damiano didn’t mind in the slightest. Not with the way he was now allowed to stare at Y/n all the time. No more worries about having to hide it, no more being afraid of being caught in the way his eyes kept lingering on her whenever she was nearby. Never mind the fact that he enjoyed teasing her.

He was well aware of how important her professionalism was for her, and he’d be the last person to slack off work because he was smitten. But, in the little moments in between, the waiting to go on air, the walking along a hallway, the little breaks and breathers, he simply couldn’t help himself. Especially not with the way she kept blushing and scolding him.

It was the small things. Brushing past her when he walked by. Letting his hand rest on her waist a little too long, always threatening to move lower, but never making the jump. Winking at her with the meanest smirk when the radio host asked a particularly spicy question. Texting her with the suggestion to unbutton her blouse just slightly more to keep him motivated. The latter was met with a stern look and her hands buttoning up the blouse a little more instead. Yet, throughout the day Y/n seemed to be more relaxed, while keeping up the impression of ‘everything is normal’. Well, she did the best she could when Damiano wasn’t giving her a hard time.

Victoria seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world, constantly watching the two of them and snickering to herself. When Damiano told her to mind her own business - just for once - she only became more curious. Ethan and Thomas hadn’t caught on yet. Well, Thomas definitely hadn’t. Ethan had looked at Damiano a little strangely, eyebrows raised in question, when the singer had stared at Y/n a little too long, trying to catch her attention, but he hadn’t mentioned it.

Now it was less than an hour until showtime, everyone gathered backstage, and Damiano couldn’t remember the last time he had been quite this excited to play. London being their biggest gig on this tour certainly played a part, but the butterflies in his stomach every time he laid eyes on Y/n surely did the rest.

The dressing room was a mess, clothes everywhere, stylists and make-up artists scrambling to get their work done in time, which was proven increasingly difficult as Victoria and Thomas kept starting tickle fights. Damiano was sure the crew was ready to murder them at this point. Still waiting for his own turn to get dressed up, he let his gaze wander over to Y/n, who was sitting with Ethan, the drummer patiently painting her nails black.

“There,” he concluded. “You’re becoming more like us every single day.”

Damiano watched as she held up her hands, admiring the way the colour contrasted with her skin. Walking over to her, he let his hands rest on her shoulders as he stood behind her.

“And you’re barely even flinching anymore when one of us gets naked,” he grinned, shooting a glance at Victoria, who was running away from Thomas in a shirt and panties only. He bent down to whisper in her ear. “Unless that one of us is me, I hope.”

The smack on his arm landed harder than expected, Y/n once again a blushing mess, but Damiano couldn’t help but laugh. As long as he still had that kind of hold over her, he’d gladly make use of it.

***

Y/n took her usual seat, sending smiles to the crew and band as they readied up for the show. The crowd outside was deafening already, volume only increasing when the lights were slowly starting to dim. One by one, the band members came up to her, ready to get a last wish of good luck, but Damiano made quick work of shoving them away, giggling as he reached her first. Without a word of warning, he grabbed her head, planting a deft kiss on her lips, before letting go of her with the biggest grin on his face. Her eyes closed as soon as she felt his lips on hers, an involuntary reaction to the feeling of having him close.

“Are all of us gonna get some good-luck kisses like that now?” Victoria giggled from behind them, and Y/n couldn’t help landing yet another smack on Damiano’s arm that day.

“Nope,” he replied. “Singer privileges.”

With the proudest smile on his face he finally bounced on stage. The others quickly followed and Y/n was left in her seat, shaking her head. That man was going to be the death of her, she was sure of it. They hadn’t even gone official, and he was already clouding her mind every single second of the day. She watched him as he ran around on stage, energy higher yet than all of the other shows on that tour, thinking about how he never failed to amaze her, both as a performer and as a human being all in itself. She wasn’t quite sure what the future held for them, what the rest of this tour would bring them, but as she stared at him, she decided she was going to be fine with whatever it was. Despite her anxiety about the future, he would be there. As long as she could have a piece of him, a smile, a touch, a kiss, every now and then, she was going to be fine. Right? Watching him on stage was a blessing and a curse. She was so proud of him, of the band. As much as she loved them there still left a small voice of fear. How much was she willing to let them see? Let him see? The rest of the tour was still there, but she reminded herself of what he had told her the day before in her hotel room. They would figure it out together.

***

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callboxkat · 4 years

Text

Infinitesimal (part 59)

Author’s note: Sorry for the wait on this one! Enjoy! :)

Warnings: injury and illness, hospital mention, captivity mention, arguing, food mention, death mention, more Christmas content in an entirely wrong month

Word count: 4890

Infinitesimal Masterpost!

Writing Masterpost!

...

An entire day without the humans.

That was what Logan had promised at breakfast that morning, saying that he was going to be spending the day with Roman in the hospital, and that he wouldn’t be back until after they would usually have dinner in the evening. Virgil still didn’t quite understand what a hospital was, other than they were apparently places humans went if they were sick or injured. And for some reason, everyone there wore strange outfits, like long white coats or entirely blue outfits, and pieces of fabric over their faces. Or at least, that was what he saw on the television.

“I’ll just grab something at the cafeteria there, or perhaps at a nearby store,” Logan had said, placing a plate on the table. “In any case, I likely won’t be coming back here to give you three your usual meals. Hopefully, these provisions will suffice, instead.”

The plate had contained the bottle caps with their breakfast, as well as some extra water, bread, butter, raisins and other dried fruit, nuts, veggie chips, and even what appeared to be an entire sugar cookie. It was more than they would need for the day. Far more. But Virgil hadn’t been about to point it out, let alone complain.

“It’s fine,” he had said, watching as Patton tentatively made his way over to the cookie. Emile, meanwhile, seemed to be trying not to laugh at the ridiculous hat the human wore—striped red and green, with what were clearly meant to be pointed ears on the sides, comically larger than a human’s normally were. Virgil had decided not to ask.

“Are you sure?” the human had checked. “Roman probably wouldn’t mind, and I could come up with an excuse for Remus—”

“It’s fine,” Virgil had insisted. “Just go to your hospital thing.”

Patton had looked up as Logan finally nodded, a tiny green sprinkle stuck to his cheek, sitting on the plate by the cookie. He shifted, glancing between them all before asking, “Will… will Roman be back soon?”

“Tomorrow morning, most likely,” Logan had said, a smile tugging at his lips. “He’ll be fine, don’t worry. He misses you three already.”

Virgil had frowned. “What? Why?” he had asked, not really thinking about it as he said it. His tone might have been slightly harsher and more incredulous than he’d intended it. Slightly.

Logan had let out a breath through his nose, glanced at Virgil, and got to his feet. “Well, I should get going,” he sighed. “Remus is waiting, and he did threaten to break down the door if we didn’t leave early enough—he was joking of course, don’t worry.”

And he had left, without another word.

…

“Virgil… that was a little mean,” Emile said. They’d been alone for a while now, and were in the middle of eating their breakfast.

Virgil, who had been contemplating joining Patton’s sugar cookie binge, lowered his spoon and turned towards his brother. “What was? I didn’t do anything.”

“Asking why Roman would miss us,” Emile said, as if that would make sense.

“How’s that mean? I can’t ask a question?”

Patton glanced up as he stuffed another handful of cookie in his mouth. His eyes flicked between the two of them.

“More the implication of it,” he shrugged (one-shouldered, of course).

Virgil frowned at him. “What implication?”

“Well… obviously, they care about us. Especially Patton, I’d guess, but they care about us too.”

Virgil gave him a heavily doubtful look.

“Logan just gave us an entire sugar cookie,” Emile pointed out, clearly feeling that that was all the evidence he needed, and that he didn’t need to bring up the wealth of other evidence he obviously had.

…Which, okay, maybe it was, and maybe he did. Maybe. But Virgil still didn’t see the problem.

Emile rubbed at his good eye. “So, when you asked why Roman would miss us, it sounded like you thought the idea that he might care was ridiculous. Implying that you don’t care about them, either.”

“Because I don’t. They’re humans.”

Emile gave him a long look, making Virgil feel a bit weird, but he wasn’t going to take back what he’d said.

“Well,” Emile said, “human or not, they have feelings. And Roman’s sick, and you basically just told Logan, who’s obviously very worried about him, that you don’t care.”

“What—” Virgil groaned. He hadn’t done anything! “Whatever. Who cares. I don’t care if they like me, as long as you get better.” He grabbed his crutches and started to get up. “I’m getting more food.”

Patton, who had started picking at the cookie rather than shoving it in his mouth, relaxed somewhat now that Virgil and Emile’s tense conversation had ended. “Do you want some, Em?”

Emile smiled at him. “Sure.”

Virgil sat down and irritably bit into a piece of the admittedly very tasty cookie, watching as Patton brought a piece of it over to his brother, laying a bit of paper towel over his lap so he wouldn’t get covered in crumbs.

…

An hour later, Emile was taking a nap, and Virgil and Patton were walking in laps around the table. It was partially so that Virgil could get more practice with his new crutches, and partially so that they could both stretch their legs. Sitting on the table all the time could leave them rather restless, especially since neither of them had left Emile’s side for long. The pair of them could technically leave whenever they wanted, even if for just a short while, but neither had in days. Not since Patton had fetched Virgil’s birthday presents, something that had been Emile’s idea.

“Do you really not care about them?” Patton asked after a while, speaking quietly so as to not wake Emile.

Virgil glanced over. “Do you?”

“I….” Patton worked his jaw, then shrugged. “Well, yeah. I do.”

“Why?”

“They did save me.”

“Isn’t not letting someone die kind of a low bar for decency?”

“It’s not just that.” Patton ducked his head as they walked. “I don’t know. I like them. They’re nice to me.” A moment passed, and then Patton looked back at Virgil, searching him. Virgil’s face grew slightly hot under his gaze. Patton nodded to himself, apparently satisfied with whatever he’d been looking for. “I think you do care about them. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“Pat, they’re human.”

“So?”

“So—Pat, come on. You should know more than anyone why littles and humans can’t be friends.”

Patton’s body language changed. He looked straight ahead and folded his arms tightly, much more closed off than before. Virgil instantly regretted what he’d said. It was cruel to remind Patton of something so awful. He knew his friend wanted nothing more than to forget it, despite the scars and the memories he still struggled with.

“Shouldn’t I of all people know how to tell a good human from a bad one?” Patton asked quietly, not looking at him.

Virgil took a deep breath, in and out, focusing on the swing of his crutches for a few steps. “Sorry. You’re right,” he said. He looked up at the ceiling, far, far above. “Look… I know. I know they care, at least in their own human way. And I know you wouldn’t go around getting attached to just any human. It’s just… hard, for me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just….” Virgil paused, and Patton stopped walking as well. “I hate feeling helpless, you know? And being around humans is just… it’s hard to feel anything but helpless.”

“They haven’t hurt us, though,” Patton pointed out softly.

“I know. It’s just the fact that they could.”

Patton nodded. “I get it. It took me a long time to get used to them, too. After… you know.” He swallowed. “I was so sure they were going to….” He shuddered slightly. “But they didn’t. And I know they’re not going to.”

Virgil was silent for several long seconds. “I know they’re trying to be nice,” he said quietly, “and let’s say they really do care. But that doesn’t change who and what they are: They’re still human. I’m sure there’s a part of them that sees us as lesser, even if they deny it, even to themselves.”

“Virgil….”

“Did they ask you? When they took you from that beach, did they ask you if it was okay?”

He’d meant the question rhetorically, but Patton seemed to consider it. His friend paused, then sat down on the table. Virgil joined him. Patton pulled up his knees and put his chin on top of them. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I think I passed out before they could.”

Virgil grimaced. “And before that?”

“I was hiding in a shell,” Patton said. “And they were there, collecting shells, they told me. And I guess they found the one I was in, so I must’ve gotten out….” He furrowed his brow, thinking hard. “I’m not really sure what happened after that.”

“Did they chase you? Try to catch you?”

Patton opened his mouth, then closed it, uncertain. “…Maybe,” he admitted. “I don’t know. But maybe, for a second.”

Virgil nodded, his suspicions confirmed. “That’s what I thought.”

“It was just a second!” he protested weakly. “I’m sure it all happened very fast. They’d never seen a little before. They probably didn’t know how to react.”

“But they did try to catch you, without your permission, before they even knew you needed help. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

Patton was starting to look distressed. “They didn’t even know if I could talk, at first, or understand them. I remember that. At the start, they kept saying I probably didn’t know what they were saying, but they’d try. They didn’t know if I was like them, or just… I guess an animal who looked like them.”

Virgil gave him a doubtful look.

“Ever since they found out, they tried to treat me more like a person.”

“But they still kept you in a cage.” Among other things they had done that Patton seemed to be forgetting. They might have been months ago, but that didn’t mean they didn’t happen.

“…They didn’t lock it. And I hardly went in there.”

Virgil snorted, and was about to point out that he had on top of a table even taller than this one at the time, too sick to get away; but before he could, he realized that there were tears beginning to collect in Patton’s eyes.

That was more than enough to shut him up.

A beat passed.

Patton rubbed at one eye. “They apologized for everything and let me go,” he said finally, “and they saved me and Emile. Without asking for anything in return. That’s what I choose to remember.” He looked at Virgil pleadingly. “Just try to give them a chance, okay? Just try to be nice? And not just because they’re so big? I think it’d make them really happy.”

Virgil looked Patton up and down, then reluctantly nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.” He’d do it to make Patton happy, at least.

Patton smiled and hugged him. “Thank you.”

Virgil hugged him back, not sure what else to say.

…

When Emile woke up from his nap, they had had lunch, which consisted of bread and butter and dried fruit, and more of the sugar cookie for dessert. Virgil was beginning to wonder if any of the cookie would be left by the time Loan returned.

Later in the day, they changed Emile’s bandages again. Virgil was glad to see how much his brother’s injuries had improved. The rope burn on Emile’s arm was gone, now, and the bruises on his body had nearly faded away. The cut on his head also looked much better. Virgil wasn’t sure if it really needed a bandage anymore; but he’d rather be safe than sorry, when it came to his brother’s health. Maybe they could ask Logan about it when he returned, the littles decided.

The concussion, broken arm and tail, sprained ankle, and dislocated shoulder would all take longer to fully heal, but they would heal.

Afterwards, Emile went for another short walk—strictly two laps this time. He didn’t seem inclined to argue with that limit, especially given how his last attempt at a third lap had ended. Virgil was glad for that.

Much of the afternoon they spent talking and making up games they could play with what they had with them on the table. Snowflakes drifted past outside, visible through the gaps in the curtains until the sun went down.

Overall, it wasn’t a bad day.

It was sort of strange, to go so long without so much as a peep from either human. As hard to believe as it was, Virgil had actually started to get used to their presence. He also caught Patton looking towards the doorway a few times, as if hoping they’d show up, and Emile had made a comment about Logan’s absence as they got ready to eat dinner. Maybe they were wondering how Roman was doing—and, okay, maybe Virgil was kind of curious about that too.

…

Late that evening, Logan finally returned. From the sound of it, he was carrying the same large bag he had left with that morning, but it seemed to be significantly emptier.

The light flicked on in the kitchen as the human entered, and there was the quiet sound of him setting down what he had been holding. Then, there was a small sigh, and footsteps approached the living room.

Logan knocked on the door frame, which was rather unnecessary, considering he already had all three littles’ attention.

“Good evening,” he said with a small smile, coming inside. The ridiculous hat he had worn earlier and the day before was in his hands, now. He knelt in front of the table, to be closer to eye level, staying a few feet away. “Did you three have a good day?”

“Sure,” said Virgil, to play nice.

“Did you?” Emile asked, only somewhat timidly.

Logan nodded, a fond look on his face as he thought about it. “Yes, it was quite enjoyable. More so than I had expected.”

“How’s Roman?”

“Is Roman okay?” Patton blurted out at the same time.

“Roman is doing well,” Logan said. “He’s resting, and he seems in good spirits. He’s not happy to be in the hospital, especially today, but we tried to make the best of it.”

“Especially today?”

Logan nodded vaguely, looking off to one side.

“Can we have another sugar cookie?” Patton asked, apparently unable to stop himself.

Logan looked amused, and his eyes drifted to the half-finished cookie on the plate. “I can get you another tomorrow,” he said. “I think Remus ate the last one in the car. I’m glad to see you like them.”

Patton looked pleased at the idea.

Logan set down the ridiculous hat he’d been holding, put his hands on his legs, then asked, “Do you three celebrate Christmas, by chance?”

“…Why?” Virgil asked rather than answering. He tried to remind himself that Logan was probably only asking out of curiosity; but he still didn’t quite feel secure enough to admit that he and Emile had never celebrated it, and that they only knew some vague information about the holiday. He didn’t know if Patton had ever celebrated it, or if he knew any more about it than they did; but now was probably not the time to ask. He kept a carefully neutral tone, rather than allowing any bite to sneak in. For Patton.

“Well, Christmas was today,” Logan informed them. “Or is today, more accurately. Roman is quite fond of the holiday, and he was disappointed to have to spend it in the hospital, regardless of my and his brother’s efforts to cheer him up. He will likely wish to do some sort of celebration with the three of you, once he is home and able.”

“Some sort of celebration”? What does that mean? Virgil frowned.

Emile and Patton also looked unsure, so Logan added, “It won’t be any sort of large celebration, especially given that he needs to rest. I believe he has presents for the three of you, however.” He paused, then continued in a slightly more humorous tone, “It will likely involve more sugar cookies, if that is at all persuasive.”

“He’s found our weakness,” Emile hissed behind his good hand.

He probably hadn’t meant for Logan to hear that, but the human clearly had. He let out a small huff of a laugh.

“There’s no reason to be nervous, I assure you. It will be very, ah… “low-key”.”

“Okay,” Patton said shyly, the first to respond.

He might admit to caring about the humans, Virgil thought, watching as Logan straightened to his full, impossible height, but they do still make him nervous. As they should.

…

The next morning, Logan brought Roman home.

He’d warned them, at breakfast, that he would be doing so; and sure enough, just over an hour after Logan had left for the hospital, they had arrived. Virgil had looked up as he heard the door open. The pair had walked in, and someone—probably Logan—had dragged a kitchen chair out for the other—probably Roman—to sit down in with a muffled thump. Virgil could hear the both of them now, talking in the kitchen. Roman’s voice was low and quiet and infrequent, enough that Virgil couldn’t make it out very well. Logan’s voice, however, was clear. He kept asking Roman if he was okay, checking that he was comfortable, things like that. Nothing overly interesting, although interesting chit-chat wasn’t what Virgil was listening for.

Finally, Logan’s footsteps approached the living room. He stood in the doorway and knocked.

All three littles had already been watching the doorway, of course.

Logan smiled tiredly. “Roman is here,” he informed them, unnecessarily. He shifted on his feet. Virgil felt nervous, wondering what that was about. “He is feeling much better than he did before,” he said slowly. “But… I hoped to make a request.”

Patton and Emile glanced at each other.

“What kind of request?” Patton asked, his head tilted slightly.

“Well… as you know, Roman is still not feeling quite like his usual self. I would propose that he and I spend tonight, and perhaps tomorrow night, or ideally however many it takes until he is well, in the living room with you. We would stay on the couches, without bothering you any more than necessary. I would greatly appreciate it—"

Virgil had heard enough. “No. No, absolutely not.”

Patton didn’t exactly look keen on the idea either, but also didn’t seem to agree with Virgil’s flat refusal. “Virgil…”

“I said no.”

“It is their home,” he said softly. “They’re letting us stay here. We should hear him out.”

“No. I know you asked me to be nice, but no. We’re not doing that.”

“I understand why you would be reluctant,” Logan said, “but all I want is for more of us to be around, in case something happens. I doubt anything will, but… I…” Logan swallowed. “I almost didn’t find him. I almost didn’t get out of bed.” He looked to one side, appearing briefly lost in thought. He straightened again. “It would ease a lot of anxiety, to know that I was not the only one around to notice if something happened.”

Virgil frowned at him, still not exactly pleased.

“If something did happen, what could we do?” Emile asked quietly, but loud enough for the human to hear, posing what Virgil felt was a very good question.

“Not much,” Virgil put in.

“Perhaps not physically,” Logan allowed, “but you could alert me to his plight.”

“…Won’t you be there anyway? Why can’t you have a sleepover in one of your rooms?”

Logan colored slightly. “I have considered it, but… I’m not the lightest sleeper,” he admitted.

The littles all glanced at each other. Emile gave a one-shoulder shrug. Patton was biting his lip. Virgil folded his arms.

Logan looked towards the kitchen. “Just… allow me to fetch him. Please. So that you can see him, before you make up your minds.”

Pretty sure I already made up my mind, Virgil thought. But he didn’t say anything as Logan left.

They heard a few whispered words, and then Logan returned, with Roman holding onto one of his arms.

Patton let out a small gasp, and Virgil’s arms unfolded as he stared at the human.

Roman’s face was dotted with bits of sweat, his hair dull, his face paler than usual. He leaned on Logan, his breathing shallow. Virgil could hear it as he wheezed in and out.

Still, when he saw the littles, he smiled.

“Sit down here,” Logan urged, leading Roman to the seat on the couch closest to the doorway. Roman sank into it gratefully, leaning his head on the back of the couch and closing his eyes, like just walking in from the kitchen had exhausted him.

…Damn it.

“Fine,” Virgil said.

…

Logan had set Roman up on the couch, propped up on pillows and covered with lots of fluffy blankets, holding a smoothie and with Netflix pulled up for him on the TV.

“They added Avatar,” Roman told the “mouse-men”, his voice softer and airier than usual, but still cheerful, “So it’s... a lot easier… than the DVDs.”

The “mouse-men”, who were all sharing two bottle caps, each filled with a bit of Logan’s and Roman’s smoothies (Logan’s was strawberry-banana, Roman’s mango-blueberry), clearly didn’t understand what this meant; but Emile especially seemed happy at the idea of watching more of the cartoon series.

Logan was very glad that the three of them had agreed to let him and Roman stay in the living room with them. It made him feel better, knowing that there were three more people around to notice if Roman had another attack and couldn’t alert Logan.

He thought of the night before Christmas Eve, when Roman had had his attack. Logan had only gone to check on Roman because of the second crash, not the first. What if there had only been one, only the sound of the rocks being knocked to the floor? Would Logan have woken enough when it had happened to recognize what it was? Or would he have assumed the same thing he first assumed when he heard Roman’s dresser drawer fall—that Roman was simply being a bit careless as he worked on things in his room? Would he have found his friend in time?

Sure, after what had happened, he would be significantly more inclined to check on his friend after any sort of crash, or remotely similar sound; but that fact didn’t guarantee that Logan would wake up in the first place, or recognize what had woken him. He was a heavy sleeper, as much as he wished he could be otherwise. What if something happened, and Logan slept through the whole thing? He shuddered at the thought.

“Too cold?” Roman asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Logan glanced up. “What?”

“Your smoothie,” Roman said. “Brain freeze?”

“Ah… perhaps a bit,” Logan said. He took another sip, then gestured at the television. “Have you decided what episode you’re going to watch?”

“We’re on The Siege of the North.”

A couple of episodes later, as the credits began to roll, Logan got up to dispose of his now-empty smoothie cup, Roman caught his eye. He looked meaningfully at Logan, then at the “mouse-men”, and back.

Logan paused. Presents? he mouthed questioningly.

Roman nodded, and put his hands together in a begging gesture, hidden behind a pillow so the “mouse-men” couldn’t see. Not that they would have noticed anyway—Emile and Patton were too busy talking about the ending of the first season of their show, dragging an only somewhat reluctant Virgil along in their excitement.

Logan nodded, went to get rid of his cup like he had planned, and returned holding the three small packages he had found in Roman’s air vent, as well as the small decorated Christmas tree he and Remus had brought to the hospital. He’d even put on the ridiculous elf had Remus had given him. By the time he returned with everything, the “mouse-men” had mostly calmed down, and instead watched as he handed Roman his reindeer antler headband, placed the little Christmas tree on an unoccupied table, and then set the gifts before the “mouse-men”. Thankfully, they had just finished not only an episode but a season of the show they had been watching, so the timing was good for Roman hit pause.

“What’s this?” Virgil asked, eyeing his box. Logan had informed them about the presents’ existence, but the “mouse-man” was clearly unsure about what said presents might be, and how he should feel about them.

“Presents,” Roman said simply, smiling.

Patton inspected his box as well, then looked for a long moment at the small, plastic Christmas tree with an expression Logan couldn’t read. Emile followed his gaze and hesitantly pointed at it. “What’s that?”

“That is a Christmas tree,” Logan said, sitting on the second sofa, since Roman was taking up most of the first. “They’re traditional for the holiday. Sometimes they’re real trees; but as you can see, this one is artificial. People decorate them with lights and ornaments, often winter or Christmas themed, although they can be almost anything. Most commonly, they’re colored spheres.”

Emile looked no less confused, but he did seem interested. “Why?”

Roman shrugged, snuggling into his blanket nest. “Fun? I always liked… decorating them with… my family.”

Emile seemed to accept that answer, and turned to look at his present. Patton pushed it closer for him while Virgil looked on, conflicted.

“You may open them,” Logan encouraged.

Roman was also watching, clearly trying to hide how excited he was.

Patton and Emile started peeling back the paper, with Virgil following their lead a second later. Patton finished opening his present first. He lifted up the lid, and pulled out an inch-square piece of paper.

“It’s a drawing! Of…” he blinked. “Me?”

“Do you like it?” Roman asked, sounding simultaneously very excited and very shy.

Patton stared at it for a second, then nodded, his eyes wide. He murmured something that Logan didn’t make out, then said, “How did you draw this?”

Roman looked sheepish. “With great care… and about six tries.”

…

The drawing of Patton was done in very careful colored pencil. The lines were thick enough that it was very obviously a drawing, but it captured Patton’s face almost perfectly. He was smiling, his hair smoother and fuller than it was in real life, and looked as if it would feel soft if you were to touch it. Great care had clearly been taken to get just the right blue-green hue of his eyes.

It was a good drawing, Virgil would admit, especially since a human’s large, clumsy fingers had managed to create it.

Virgil looked away and lifted up the box lid of his own present, revealing that he had also received a drawing. It was done in colored pencil, like Patton’s, and also like Patton’s, it was of him. Virgil pulled it out and looked at it. He could feel Roman’s eyes on him, probably hoping for a reaction, but Virgil did his best to ignore him and just look at the drawing.

The drawing looked just like Virgil, even with the right eye color and the graphite smeared under his eyes, and the start of the hoodie he always wore. He wasn’t smiling, but he looked… strong. Confident. Defiant. Capable. Not at all like the weak, helpless tiny thing he might have expected a human to see him as.

Huh.

Emile was the last to get his gift open, given the fact that he had to do so with one arm. Once he got the box lid off, Virgil helped him pull out the paper within.

“I had to make some guesstimates… with yours,” Roman said, reaching up to touch his temple where the bandages covered Emile’s own. “I hope I got… it right. ”

He had. The drawing in his and Emile’s hands looked exactly like Emile, minus the injuries and bandages that currently obscured his features. He was smiling in his drawing, like Patton, although not as widely. He looked… the only word Virgil could come up with for it was protective. Which suited Virgil’s brother very well.

“Do you like them?” Roman asked.

“I do,” Emile said.

Virgil nodded, looking back at his own drawing.

After the presents were opened, the humans switched from watching Avatar; The Last Airbender to a movie Virgil didn’t recognize. A Christmas movie, they said. Virgil wasn’t sure what elves who wanted to be “dentists” or deer with glowing red noses had to do with Christmas, or how any of this made any sense; but Patton seemed invested in the movie from the start, so he just watched without saying anything. Patton even seemed to be ignoring the Christmas tree, even after Logan had plugged in a cord to light it up.

Next, they watched a movie called The Nightmare before Christmas.

“I think you’re gonna like this one,” Roman had told Virgil knowingly as Logan put it in the player.

…He was right. Virgil didn’t just like it. He loved it.

Not that he would tell the humans that, but he knew that he wouldn’t have had to.

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palindromeadams · 4 years

Text

Talking to The Moon

Hello! Sorry about the almost year break...

I’m working on the continuation of Zodiac’s Brew as well as another fic but this one is one that I’ve been working on the longest so I wanted to get it done!

Feel free to send any constructive criticism!

I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading!

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It began when Natsu was 4. Igneel and Grandine were headed to the office when they passed their son’s room and heard laughter. They looked at each other with smiles on their faces, after a long bout of giggles followed by a muffled conversation. They assumed that he was either talking to his stuffed dragon, or maybe he had made his first imaginary friend, but they were surprised when they peeked into his room. Standing atop his toy chest their pink-haired son seemed to be in a deep conversation with the moon.

“And then I grabbed that ice princess’ clay and I smushed it! He made the funniest face! I wish you coulda seen it!” Natsu laughed, “Metal breath tried to steal my clay, but before he could, I shoved Elsa’s clay into his face!”

More laughter, before it cut off abruptly and his face screwed up into a pout.

“But Luuussshhhhiii they started it! Gray drew all over my dragon picture and Gajeel kept snoring when I was trying to take my nap!”

The boy continued to argue with the sky as his parents slowly closed the door, smiling.

“Our boy has a really active imagination, eh Iggy?” Grandine asked as the parents returned to their trip to the office.

Igneel let out a laugh, wrapping an arm around his wife and kissing the top of her head. “He gets that from you dear. I didn’t have any imaginary friends, but if I remember correctly, you had at least 20.”

Light laughter followed the couple down the hallway as they went to go finish some work in their office.

Natsu looked at the moon with a goofy grin that split his face, “I’ll always be here for you Luce, I promise. All you have to do is call my name and I’ll be there.” He said, raising his pinky up to the sky, “I pinky promise!” The sound of tinkling laughter could be heard by those that were listening close enough.

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Six years passed, and Grandine and Igneel would still pass by their son’s room at night, hearing him talking away. Every time they peeked in, they would find him standing by his window, smiling up at the moon. One night, in the middle of his tenth year, he stopped. The couple was used to one, maybe two, nights a month that his son wouldn’t talk to his friend. This usually happened on the new moon. However, after a week of not hearing anything, they were confused as to why he had stopped.

During dinner, a little over a week after the nighttime chats had ended, Grandine decided to broach the subject with her son. “Hey Natsu, why don’t you talk to the moon anymore? Did something happen?” She asked.

Natsu’s brows pinched together, his nose scrunched, an angry frown formed on his face. The two adults shared a look, something had happened.

“I was tellin’ Lisanna about Lucy at lunch. The stupid stripper overheard and started telling everyone.” He stabbed a piece of broccoli, angrily shoving it into his mouth. “Then iron mouth said that havin’ imaginary friends were for babies! But Lucy ain’t an imaginary friend! She's a moon sprite! It ain't my fault she can only come down when she gets older.”

He huffed and crossed his arms. “Then Levy said that there ain’t no such thing as a moon sprite. That the moon wasn’t livable cause it had no atmosphere or water, and somethin’ about vacuuming. I tried to tell her about Lucy and I described her and everything, but they wouldn't believe me!” Angry tears welled up in his eyes, “So I stopped talkin’ to Luce cause she ain’t real. There's no such thing as moon sprites or magic. I was a baby for thinkin’ otherwise.”

Grandine and Igneel looked at each other. Grandine looking pointedly at Igneel to get him to say some fatherly, encouraging advice.

Igneel let out a sigh. “You know Natsu, it doesn’t make you a baby for having someone that you can confide in. Even if other people can’t see them the way you do.” He placed a reassuring hand on Natsu’s shoulder, before ruffling his hair. “If you want to keep talking to Lucy because she makes you happy, do it. Magic is real kiddo, even if your friends don’t believe it, you do. That is what is important.”

“Really?” Natsu asked hopefully.

“Yup! Magic is all over the place! All you have to do is look for it. You are one of the lucky ones. You were able to befriend one of the beings that can control it.” Igneel gave a goofy grin. “I would have preferred you making friends with a dragon, but I guess a moon sprite will have to suffice.”

Grandine smacked her husband’s shoulder before the family started laughing.

Natsu gave his signature grin, moving to put his plate in the dishwasher. He made a quick glance out the window and up at the moon.

“I guess I should go and apologize to Luce for ignoring her.” He said with a sigh, “I hope she wasn’t cryin’... I hate it when she cries.”

Natsu ran his fingers through his hair, mumbling, “ Course she was cryin’ dummy, this is Lucy. The biggest crybaby in the solar system. Cried cause she thought she forgot my birthday, but it was the middle of December. ”

Grandine and Igneel looked at each other with a smile, glancing back at their son in time to see him sprinting up the stairs, slamming the door shut behind him.

They could hear the window slam open, and hear him shout, “LUCY! I’M SORRY FOR BEING A BUTT AND IGNORIN’ YOU FOR A WEEK! I, NATSU DRAGNEEL, AM THE BIGGEST JERK IN THE SOLAR SYSTEM!” He paused, as if reluctant to continue, “AN EVEN BIGGER JERK THAN THE POLAR PEST OR METAL MOUTH!”

The couple looked at each other, before bursting into laughter at their son’s antics. They really hoped that he would continue to have this imaginary friend for a little longer.

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Four years had passed since the night of the Dragneel’s talk, the now 14-year-old boy was still talking to his moon sprite friend every night he could. Igneel and Grandine were sitting in their office, finishing up some last-minute paperwork, when the sound of their son’s laughter reached them.

“Hey Grandine, don’t you think Natsu is getting a little old for imaginary friends?” Igneel asked, looking over at his wife.

“I don’t think there is such a thing as being ‘too old’ for something when it comes to the imagination.” She replied, typing away at her computer. “Besides, talking to her brings him joy. All I can hope for is that Natsu is happy and healthy, no matter what he does.”

Igneel sighed, “I know, but don’t you think that this could cause issues in the future? What if he doesn’t want to hang out with his friends anymore? Because he wants to talk to a figment of his imagination? He already refuses to do sleepovers or any overnight camp, don’t you think that having it could be detrimental to his future?”

“Natsu hangs out with his friends every single day that he can. He invites them over to hang out, he goes over to theirs for homework and video games. He is a perfectly normal teenage boy that just so happens to have a friend that no one else can see,” Grandine huffed. “I don’t know why you’re bringing this up all of a sudden, nothing has changed since you encouraged him a few years ago.”

“Natsu is going to be starting high school in a few months. Then in a few more years, he’ll be graduating. I don’t want him to be bullied in high school because someone finds out that he still has an imaginary friend. He’s already picked on enough as it is because of his hair, but talking to someone that doesn’t exist? Insisting that they do? Deeney, they’ll think he’s crazy!”

“Natsu hasn’t had any issues with bullying or being picked on since elementary school. The kids that he goes to school with have known him for years! He’s no more at risk of being picked on as Gray or Gajeel are!” She argued closing the top of her laptop and glaring at her husband.

“He’s going to a new school! Magnolia high isn’t just these kids that we’ve known since diapers. There are going to be students from at least three more middle schools, and they’ll have no clue about Natsu! They’ll pick on him because he’s different, giving them more fuel for the fire will only make things worse,” Igneel argued.

“You honestly think that Natsu will just stand there and let himself be picked on? You’re talking about the boy that decked a kid for making fun of Lisanna wearing cat ears! Even if he did, do you think that his friends would just let him be bullied? NO! If Natsu hadn’t already; Gray, Gajeel, and Erza would punch the poor kid that thought picking on Natsu was a smart idea!”

Igneel sighed and ran his fingers down his face, “I don’t think that physically, Natsu would be in danger… Deeney, I’m just concerned about our boy.”

Grandine gave a small smile, before setting her laptop down. She walked over to her husband, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Our boy will be fine Iggy,” she soothed. “There isn’t anything wrong with having an active imagination or imaginary friends. He will grow up to be a smart, strong, and happy young man that will succeed in everything that matters.”

She kissed her husband’s forehead, patting his back lovingly. The couple turned to look at the door when they heard a soft sound from that direction. They looked at each other questioningly, before shrugging and getting ready to go to bed.

When the couple had finished, they walked quietly to their room, passing by the now silent room of their son. What they didn’t know was that Natsu had overheard most of their argument.

The boy was now lying in his bed staring at the ceiling. Thinking of ways that he could prevent his parents from worrying, while still getting to talk to his best friend. He decided that night that he would wait until his parents were asleep, before talking to Lucy. Natsu let out a long sigh, turning on his side, trying to get some sleep.

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Two years after Igneel and Grandine’s argument, Natsu and Gray pulled into the parking lot of the campground.

“C’mon Frosty! Let’s grab our gear and set up camp before everyone else arrives! Then we can get straight into the activities!” Natsu said, hopping out of the driver’s seat happily, before running to the trunk to pull out the camping equipment.

Gray let out a loud groan, slumping out of the passenger's seat. “How the heck can you be so freaking happy at 7 in the morning flame for brains? You didn’t even stop for coffee on the way here. I can barely function.” Gray said groggily, shuffling to the overexcited teen.

“Cheer up ya pervy popsicle! We get the whole weekend to ourselves! No parents, no responsibility, no work! Just relaxation and fun with our friends!” Natsu cheered, dragging out the tents and sleeping bags. He walked over to the fire pit, dumping the items next to it.

“Hey squinty eyes, I bet I can set up the big tent before you can set up the two smaller ones!” Gray said, grabbing the 14 person tent and throwing Natsu the four and two-person tents.

“Oh, you’re so on droopy eyes!”

The two boys pulled out everything from the bags, laying them out on the grass.

“Ready.”

“Set.”

“GO!”

They both yelled, before throwing themselves into setting up the tents.

By the time their friends arrived, Natsu and Gray were arguing, covered in grass and dirt stains.

“Why am I not surprised that these idiots are fighting already?” Lisanna sighed, pulling out her duffle from the back of her sister’s car.

“Because they are MANLY!” Elfman said, coming up behind his sister and grabbing his own bag, along with the large food-filled cooler from the back.

Gray and Natsu were in charge of bringing the tents and sleeping supplies. This left the food and drinks to the Strauss siblings. This way, it would reduce the number of times the two would argue.

“It's because we’ve known those two since they were in diapers. Their relationship hasn’t changed over the years,” Mirajane replied, slipping in between her siblings. She grabbed her duffle, along with the smaller cooler.

“Those two could argue about practically anything for hours! Yet they still won’t get tired of it.”

The sibling trio laughed, heading towards the fighting pair. After locking their car, they went to see what started this disagreement.

“There’s no way you finished before me flame breath! You were still putting on a rain cover when I was done!” Gray argued, fists clenched by his sides, glaring at the pink-haired boy in front of him.

“That's not true fruit of the gloom!” Natsu yelled getting into Gray’s face, “I finished, then turned around, and you were still securing one of the stakes!”

The boys continued arguing when the siblings reached them.

“Hey, Natsu! where do we put our stuff?” Lisanna asked.

Natsu continued to glare at the dark-haired boy in front of him, “Bags with clothes and stuff go into the four-person tent. Coolers and other food things go in the two-person,” He said, before Gray launched himself onto him, the two boys beginning to roll around on the grass, fighting.

Lisanna's facepalmed, letting out a disappointed sigh. “Why do I still hang out with those two.”

Mirajane put a reassuring hand on her little sister’s shoulder. “Because those two boys will protect their loved ones with everything they’ve got.”

“That better not be fighting I hear,” A menacing voice called from a red car that had just pulled into the parking lot.

The two boys froze mid-battle, fists still raised. Their faces paled, eyes wide. They quickly scrambled to their feet, pushing the other down.

“We weren’t fighting at all!” Gray said unconvincingly. His hair was sticking up more than usual, and there was mud on his cheeks, grass stains on his outfit, or what was left of his outfit anyway.

“Aye!” Natsu agreed, his own appearance matching closely to Gray’s, but with more clothing.

Erza strolled over to the group, Jellal trailing behind her, his arms filled with bags full of who knows what.

“Gray your clothes,” Lisanna said, returning from dropping off her bags.

“What? I was just wearing them!” Gray exclaimed, searching for his missing clothes.

The small group laughed at their friend’s antics.

“Looks like we’re still waiting on Gajeel, Levy, Cana, Juvia, and Wendy.” Jellal said as he returned from dropping off Erza’s things in the tent, “Have you heard anything from them yet?”

Gray returned with all of his clothes on, “Juvia, Wendy, and Cana are headed up here together. I got a text from Juvs a few minutes ago saying that they were close.”

“Iron breath picked up Levy, so they should be here soon,” Natsu said, lacing his hands behind his head. “What should we do while we wait?”

“You guys could play capture the flag while I finish setting things up,” Mirajane offered. “I’ll lay out the sleeping bags, then start getting lunch ready.”

“Thank you, Mira!” The rest of the group yelled, splitting into their normal teams and running off into the forest.

The sun had set and the group of teens sat around a roaring fire laughing and telling stories. They had all eaten their fill of Mirajane’s cooking and a few were still roasting marshmallows.

“Okay, what is one thing about another person here that you’ve always wanted to know?” Lisanna asked, taking a bite of her s’more.

“I’ve always wondered why Elfman always says ‘MAN’ or ‘MANLY’ after everything,” Wendy said looking over at the said man.

The group looked confused for a second, realizing that they hadn’t really given it much thought, it was just something that Elfman had always done. They all looked over at the man who sheepishly smiled rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well when I was a kid I met this teenager that helped an old lady cross the street and he looked down at me and said ‘The manly man is one that always helps out others.’ so I guess that it just stuck…” he chuckled.

“Well, I sure wasn’t expecting that,” Gajeel grumbled before looking over at Natsu. “Whatever happened to that moon bunny that you went on about for years. It seems like one day you just stopped.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that! What was her name again? Laney? Lacey?” Erza asked looking up at the sky, where a full moon looked back.

Natsu looked up with her with a soft smile on his face, “Her name is Lucy, and she’s a moon sprite, not a bunny” he let out a sigh before looking at his hands, conflicting feelings flashed on his face. Should he tell them the truth, or should he lie to make them get off his back?

He took a deep breath, they were his friends no reason to lie to them, “She told me that on the first full moon after she turned 18 she would be given the choice to either stay on the moon and keep her magic or come down to earth and become a human. “he looked back up at the moon, “She said that she was going to choose to come down to earth, she doesn’t have anyone there that really cares about her. Her mom died about 6 years ago and her dad is a dick, she’s always wanted to meet you guys ‘cause of all of the stories I’ve told her.”

He chuckled, “I stopped talking about her because my dad was afraid that I would be bullied because of it, so I figured I would just wait it out and keep her to myself until she came down.” His voice took on a tone that the group had never heard from him, it was soft and full of love, “I can’t wait until you guys can finally meet her. She’s amazing and you all would love her.”

The group looked at him in awe, they didn’t think that Natsu still believed in this Lucy girl and he talked about her with so much love.

Gajeel snorted “So you still believe in this bunny girl ey, fire hazard.” he let out his signature laugh, “I’m surprised you still believe in those baby things.”

The air around the group went tense as the soft smile that was on Natsu’s smile morphed into a scowl then his face went blank.

He stood up, glared at Gajeel “This is the other reason why I never brought it up because you would be a dick and I really didn’t want to have to get pissed off again. I thought you had grown up in the years since you’ve made fun of me before Gajeel, but I guess not.” Natsu said his voice sounded cold and hollow, the opposite of how it was a few minutes before. He turned his back on the group and walked into the forest.

The group was in shocked silence, Natsu hadn’t even taken a swing at Gajeel like he usually would. In his place though the normally timid Juvia punched his arm.

“The hell waterwoman!” He growled rubbing his shoulder.

“That was a real jerk move Gajeel! He trusted us enough to tell us that and you made fun of him!” She scolded.

“What you think he’s tellin’ the truth about some bunny girl living on the moon with magic that will just appear one day?”

Juvia glared and punched him again, “It doesn’t matter if Juvia believes it or not! Natsu does and he’s our friend so we should be nice and supportive of him! Either he’ll realize one day that she isn’t real, or she’ll show up one day and we’ll get to meet her! Natsu has always been supportive of Juvia’s thoughts and beliefs and has never once made fun of something that you guys cared a lot about. Natsu has always been able to tell what was really important to us and respected that.”

Juvia let out a frustrated noise, “Ugh! Juvia is very upset with Gajeel, but she is going to find Natsu and apologize.” She stood up and stomped off in the direction that Natsu had disappeared to.

When Juvia caught up to Natsu he was sitting atop a boulder in the middle of a clearing staring up at the moon. He let out a sigh before burying his hands in his hair.

“I should have known they wouldn’t believe me Luce, but a part of me hoped that they would. They would love to get to know you and become friends with you especially Levy, she loves books as much as you do. And you and Erza would bond over shopping and all that girly crap and even though Juvia is shy at first as long as you don’t fall in love with Gray you too will get along.” He said ending with a small laugh. “I wish they could talk to you now. You can’t use any of your magic to like visit them in their dreams and threaten to curse them if they’re still dicks?”

Natsu paused as if he were listening to someone and let out a laugh making Juvia jump. “Only, you would say something like that Luce. Thank you though, I really appreciate you sayin’ that.” He gave the moon a dopey grin that had Juvia smiling along. She looked up at the moon and gave it, sorry her, a smile.

“What? Someone’s here?” Natsu murmured before turning around and locking eyes with Juvia. Walls seemed to go up around his expression and it turned blank.

“What do you need Juvia, I’ll be back at the camp in a few no need to worry about me.”

Juvia took a deep breath and walked into the clearing, “Will you tell Juvia a bit about Lucy? She must be pretty great if she’s got you smiling like that.” She smiled at Natsu then looked at the moon, “Juvia is sorry to be interrupting your conversation with Natsu, Lucy but our friend was being a bit of a jerk about you, but Juvia wants to get to know you better before Juvia gets to meet you in person in a few years.”

Natsu’s mouth was agape and his eyes were wide in shock, “You believe me?” he whispered in disbelief.

“Of course Juvia does Natsu. Natsu has no reason to lie to Juvia and Natsu believes Juvia too.” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “Can Juvia sit down while you tell her about Lucy?”

Natsu, still in a state of disbelief, shifted over to give her space to sit. He shook out of his shock and gave Juvia a face splitting grin before he started to rant about Lucy, how they first met, and almost everything that he learned about her, occasionally being interrupted by the moon sprite either correcting him or having him translate what she was saying to the earth girl.

The trio talked until the sun was close to rising, “Lucy has to go now Juvia, she thanks you though and is glad that you two can be friends. She said that you can talk to her anytime and she’ll be listening even if you can’t hear her back. All you have to do is say her name while looking at the moon and she’ll be there.” Natsu smiled at the blue-haired girl, “Thank you for believing me Juvia, you’re a really great friend. When Gray gets his head out of his ass he’ll realize how great of a girl you are and you guys will start dating. You’ll be a great influence on him.”

He gave Juvia his signature grin before giving her a hug, “If you ever need me to do anything Juvia,” He said then pushed her back lightly gripping her shoulders looking at her seriously, “ And I mean anything Juvia like if you want me to beat up Gray because he doesn’t compliment your hair one day, I’ll do it.”

Juvia let out a string of laughter, “Okay Natsu, Juvia will do that, but Juvia will probably not have you beat up her beloved Gray-sama anytime soon.”

Natsu laughed and nodded, “Got it Juvi. Let’s head back to camp so they don’t think we got attacked by wild animals or abducted by aliens.” He slung his arm over Juvia’s shoulder and the pair began their walk back to the camp.

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Two years and a couple of months had passed since the camping trip and Natsu had moved out of his parent's house and into an apartment. He had been saving up for this apartment for over two years. It was a cozy little two-bedroom apartment, and it almost felt like home to Natsu. It had some hand me down furniture in the kitchen and living room from his parents, but he had made sure to buy nice beds for the two bedrooms and decorated the walls of one with pictures of him and his friends while the other was simpler with glow in the dark stars on the ceiling laid out to match the night sky in summer.

Natsu took a deep breath as the sun began to set. Tonight was finally the first full moon after Lucy’s 18th birthday, meaning that in the next hour he would finally get to meet his best friend and crush of over 14 years. He had already started pacing and feeling nervous. He had triple checked everything to make sure that Lucy would feel comfortable at his place, he had cleaned and made sure the fridge was stocked but he still felt like he was forgetting something important.

He picked up his phone and dialed the phone number of the girl that had become his closest friend.

“Juvia! She’s going to be here soon and I think I’m forgetting something and I don’t know what it is! I cleaned the house and the fridge is full. Her room is set up! I don’t know what it could be! I just want everything to be perfect for her first day here!” Natsu rambled.

“Natsu. Take a deep breath. Are you dressed?” Juvia’s voice was calm on the other side. She was used to him freaking out about this by now, he had been in a panic these past few days not knowing what he should do to make Lucy comfortable on Earth.

Natsu looked down and saw that he was still in his boxers with chibi dragons. “Shit. I thought I had put on pants.” He scrambled to his room, his phone echoing with Juvia’s laughter.

“Everything will be okay Natsu. You’ve known Lucy for 14 years. Juvia is sure she would be happy if you still lived at your parent’s place. She’s Lucy, you know her.” She reassured him, “And when she's all settled and she feels up to it Juvia would love to get to meet her too.”

“You could come over now Juvi, Luce would love to get to see you, she talks about you a lot,” Natsu said as he buttoned up his slacks. He had decided to dress up a bit to try to impress Lucy a bit.

“Juvia is fine Natsu. This first meeting is something that you two deserve alone time for. Have been waiting for this for over 14 years. Juvia can wait a few days, but don’t hog her for too long. Juvia needs to shove Lucy’s existence into Gray and Gajeel’s face for being pricks about her growing up.”

Natsu laughed, “Thank you Juvia. I’m so excited to see her but I’m also fucking terrified. What if she decides not to come down and stays on the moon, or what if she regrets coming down and she wants to go back but she's stuck here forever…” his thoughts began spiraling into a negative space that it really only went to during the night after his talks with Lucy.

“Natsu! Shut up and get out of your head!” Juvia scolded.

“Wow never thought I would hear that.” a deep voice echoed from Juvia’s side of the phone.

“Shut up Gray.” She snapped. The sound of a door was heard closing behind her before Juvia’s voice softened, “Natsu, you know that Lucy doesn’t break her promises and she promised that she would come down to Earth, and you know how much she’s rambled on about coming down here and getting to meet us, but mostly you.”

Natsu could feel his cheeks warm as she continued, “Especially you Natsu, you’re her oldest friend and probably first and only love. Mavis knows how much you love her.”

Natsu sputtered at her bluntness, “Juvia! You can’t just say that!”

“Why not? It's the truth, you talk about her with the same fondness that Gajeel does about Levy, Jellal does about Erza, and that Juvia does about Gray.”

Natsu’s face was probably the color of Erza’s hair, “I know that, but you don’t need to say it out loud. It’s embarrassing.”

The moon’s light began to shine brighter into Natsu’s living room from the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony. “Shit Juvia she’s coming. Oh, Mavis what if I screw things up. No no no this is Luce everything will be okay.” He said teetering off into a mumble before he took a deep breath. “I’ll message you later Juvia.”

“Have fun Natsu!” Juvia said before she hung up.

Natsu slipped his phone into his back pocket and watched as the moon’s glow began to get brighter and brighter until it was almost blinding. He turned his head away to protect his eyes then looked back to the silhouette of a girl standing on his balcony. He scrambled to the door and locked eyes with probably the most beautiful girl he had seen. She had hair that was as golden as the stars, her skin was as pale as the moon itself, and her eyes, Mavis her eyes, were a warm chocolate brown that seemed to hold galaxies in their depth. The girl smiled and Natsu felt his heart stop before he could get his body to work and give the girl a smile in return.

Natsu slid the door open and immediately embraced the girl. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to give you a hug Luce.” He could feel tears prick the edge of his eyes. He felt his anxieties disappear, he was finally holding Lucy in his arms. She was real. She wasn’t a figment of his imagination or an imaginary friend, she was a moon sprite that gave up her powers to live with him.

He heard sniffles and could feel her shoulders shake. “I would guess as long as I’ve wanted this too Natsu,” Lucy said as she hugged him tighter.

Natsu let the tears that he had been holding back go as he nuzzled into the top of her head.

“You’re finally here. You’re really here. I’m never fucking letting you go.” He said in disbelief and she let out a watery laugh.

“I would hope not Natsu because I’m not letting you go either.”

The pair stood outside in a hug until the sound of Nastu’s stomach interrupted them.

“Shit. Stupid stomach I just fed you. Shut up so I can keep hugging Luce.” He pouted and gave the girl another squeeze.

Lucy giggled, “We should probably head inside so we can talk about stuff and get some food.”

Natsu sighed before he lifted up the girl and walked them into the house. Lucy let out a surprised squeak before she laughed at his antics, “You can let me go Natsu I do have two working legs you know.”

“Nope, I said I was never letting you go and I’m not. You’re stuck with me forever now. No takesies backsies.” He said plopping the two of them down on the sofa readjusting so Lucy could be more comfortable.

“You do know that I’m not going anywhere right? We’re together forever now, even if we aren’t attached at the hip. I promise I won’t leave you, and you know that I never break my promises.” Lucy said with a sigh pushing back on the boy’s chest to get a better look at him.

He was just as, if not more, handsome than Lucy thought he would be. His tanned skin and vibrant pink hair were a strange combination but it suited him so well. His sharp green eyes seemed to go on forever and his smile was something that Lucy wanted to see forever. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes again and watched as panic washed over his face.

“Shit whats wrong Luce? Did I do something to upset ya? I’ll let you go if you’re starting to get uncomfortable!” he rambled not wanting to make the former sprite feel pressured into doing something that she didn’t want to do.

Lucy let out a watery laugh, “It’s nothing like that Natsu. It’s just that I’m so happy to finally be with you.” She sniffled, “I never thought that I would be able to do thing but with your help I really did it! I love you so much Natsu.”

Natsu’s eyes widened before they softened into what can only be described as a look of pure adoration. His hand slid up the side of Lucy’s cheeks wiping away the tears that fell. “I love you too Luce. I love you to the moon and beyond.”

Lucy leaned down and Natsu leaned up and the two met in a soft kiss. They parted and gave the other a soft smile. Natsu pulled Lucy gently back until their foreheads touched, “Thank you for existing and for giving up your powers to be here with me.”

Lucy smiled, “You’re a lot better than the ability to make lights turn on at will, I can tell you that much.” She joked before pecking his lips lightly, “I will miss being able to fly but I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

Natsu laughed, “I’m sure I’ll think of something, if not I’ll get Juvia to help me. Oh! Before I forget can we take a picture to send to Juvia? She’s been wanting to see you.” he said scrambling for his phone while trying to not let go of the girl.

“Of course! You’ll have to take me to actually meet with her in person soon! I wanna see her! And all your other friends too, but Juvia first because she believed you about me.” She pouted, “The other ones were dicks and I can’t wait to shove my existence in their faces!”

He laughed again before opening his phone up and going to the camera app to take a selfie. When the pair felt the picture was good enough (i.e. when Lucy thought the picture was good enough) they sent it to Juvia. Natsu then threw his phone to the other side of the couch and the pair snuggled up together and began talking about their plans for the next week.

A few blocks away Juvia’s phone lit up with a notification from Natsu. She looked away from the movie that she and Gray were watching to look at the message and let out a squeal before shoving her phone in Gray’s face.

“Juvia told you, Gray! Juvia told you for years but you never believed her and Natsu!” She cheered as Gray pulled the phone away from his face and his jaw dropped.

In the picture, Natsu was sitting next to a pretty blonde girl that he had never seen before, the text below read ‘Luce says hi!’

#fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail #nalu fanfiction #Nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia

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onyourzeus · 3 years

Text

• stress-free | kwp

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: stress-free pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you (she/her pronouns) genre: FLUFF, college!au words: 3.4k

author’s note: @pirimiritiddy requested a fic about wonpil, and here it is. it went on for longer than i previously planned, buuuuut. i hope it’s still okay aaaa

(this is the 1st time i’ve written something for wonpil so if i get his personality wrong, i do apologize. i am also a baby myday huhu)

this dot fic (bullet style) is part of the falling asleep on the bus scenario that i intend to write for each day6 member. check out the others: dowoon (currently only 2/5 completed)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

wonpil hates his schedule for this winter term

who assigns a class that is only available at seven in the evening??

3 times a week

during THE WINTER

did he mention it’s a major lecture he’s required to take??

psychology of stress, more like

this class is giving him the kind of stress it is specifically warning its students about

anyway, what can he say. he chose this major, there’s only 1 more term after this one and then finally: graduation

it’ll be fine, he’ll live

thank the heavens they didn’t need to attend the first two meetings, but some reading material was provided

and was expected by the professor to have been read and reflected upon

the class is really living up to its name because when wonpil opened the pdf

it was 30 pages of tiny font sized sentences (for ants!) about the definition of stress and how it affects every part of the body yada yada yada

wonpil tried. he really tried

that is to say he fell asleep on his desk while going over the same 20th page of the document

if it weren’t for jae shaking him awake, he’d miss his first night class

it would’ve been nice… if only the professor didn’t take attendance (something about being generous enough to make the first 2 classes “free,” so everyone has an obligation to come in for the remainder of the semester)

great, he’s stuck freezing his ass off just walking to the bus stop alone

hopefully they turn the heater all the way up in the auditorium or else

the thousands spent in tuition would have literally been for nothing

overdramatic wonpil, can you blame him

he thinks about reading the remaining 10 pages on the bus, even if he knows nothing of value will be absorbed

he wants to tries anyway, he does feel a little bit refreshed from that impromptu nap

the bus has arrived, and it’s packed as usual; a lot of the students riding the shuttle are just yet to take off in the following stops

wonpil squeezes his way inside, 30 pages of stress psychology research gripped in both hands

“excuse me, sorry,” wonpil mumbles, eyeing for a spot to sit to make him comfortable

because once all the people standing up leave, it’s usually a race for the exit

he’ll never understand college students

finally, he sees an empty seat way in the back. there was a girl on one end and two other students who seem to be ready to get off on the right side

wonpil doesn’t mind sitting next to someone, but once those 2 are gone he’ll just scoot over to give the girl on the left some privacy

she seems very much in deep sleep anyway, wonpil wonders if her stop is coming or she’s riding to go to campus?

wonpil doesn’t have time to think about other people, it causes him unnecessary stress

once sat down, his eyes focus on the last page he left off of

the words register as gibberish in his brain, and with the bus moving so much it makes it even more difficult to follow along the paragraphs

wonpil takes in a deep breath, holds it in, and sighs very heavily

his patience is usually the best out of his friends, but this class is turning more and more into the psychology of how to get you stressed tf out instead

the bus nears its next stop, and the two people on his side stand up to leave, yes he can breathe normal air

however

hold on

his shoulder feels heavy

turning his head slightly, for some reason once the bus had stopped its engine the girl’s head had flipped over to lean against wonpil’s shoulder instead

oh no oh no oh no

his shoulders suddenly freeze, as if blasted with a ray gun filled with ice

it’s heavy and he can’t move, it’s numb and this girl’s hair is splayed all over his his sweater

and she

she smells of coffee, and wonpil inhales it in

it’s not foul or anything, but it’s definitely exuding notes of espresso bean and freshly roasted coffee

it makes wonpil feel a little more awake

but he still can’t move his shoulders, and suddenly he’s panicking because the bus started moving again and even though capacity has lessened by 80%

someone decided to sit on the other end of the row he’s at

so if he even attempts to move, he’ll still be seated next to someone

wonpil grumbles, lower lip jutting forward

something shifts

and he realizes he shook his shoulders a little bit with his frustration

“ah…” he exclaims inaudibly, panicking at the possibility that he had woken her up from her nap

wonpil tenses up, shoulders stiff and eyes peering at his side to see what she’s up to

she lifts her head just a few inches off of wonpil’s shoulder, and for a moment he’s relieved that maybe she realizes what’s going on

but wonpil only hears a soft yawn coming from her, and she returns to using his very rigid shoulder as her pillow during this bus ride

let’s just say that the next thirteen minutes was more stress-inducing than wonpil wanted it to be

right when the bus reaches the final stop (main campus), wonpil exerts any and all efforts he has to shake his shoulder, up and down, enough to elicit an awake response from this stranger

the moment he feels her let up, wonpil dashes through that bus door like there’s no tomorrow

he is greeted with the coldest wind hitting his face, and his shoulder feeling numb from all the.. pillow roleplaying it did, if you will

wonpil feels bad, borderline guilty for leaving her like that— what if she’s asleep until now?? he can almost hear soft snores from her end for a minute there, too, and it took so much of wonpil to resist chuckling at it while in panic mode simultaneously

suffice to say, he was not able to read the rest of the document

in wonpil’s defense, he had encountered it first hand — how stress overcomes one’s body and mind

he forces himself to focus on what’s ahead, as boring as it sounds

he enters the lecture hall with a few minutes so spare, deciding to sit in the back

the projector screens are big and wonpil is not about to take his chances of getting called on today

luckily enough, he finds a row with visibly no other student sitting around the area

shoulder feeling more alive, he comes back to his senses as well

he takes off his outer sweater as it had become toastier inside. he still had a couple layers beneath his clothes

as the professor starts talking, wonpil finds himself yawning a few times

he doesn’t know if the video playing on screen is boring him or the girl in the bus affected his sleepiness

suddenly he remembers the smell of coffee, and how that’d sound real good right about now

he slaps both of his cheeks lightly, trying to take him back in the zone of at least writing down important notes

he’s on the fifth bullet point of his note-taking when the door behind him opens abruptly

it wasn’t loud or disrupting to the whole class, virtually no one even batted an eye

but thats because they’re far from the door

and wonpil is literally ten feet away, so when he feels the cold suddenly hit his back he had to know the source of the sudden hit in temperature

the class hadn’t been going on for less than an hour, and there have been students coming in on the other end of the auditorium

so wonpil isn’t that surprised that another student has just arrived

he caught a glimpse of her hair, but that’s about it as wonpil goes back to his tedious notes

until the very same person scoots herself in wonpil’s row

he huffs under his breath, the illusion of some privacy now shattered

with a polite (semi-forced) smile, wonpil turns to the side to greet his classmate

again, wonpil becomes frozen in spot

kind of like when you feel a magnetic pull somewhere, you follow it

and then suddenly you see it from afar, not believing your eyes if it’s actually real; if it’s actually there

in wonpil’s case, he’s one seat away from her

recognizing the flow of her hair, but more importantly

that distinct scent of coffee beans from her clothes

this time, wonpil has a clear look on her face and he’s… speechless

his polite smile has turned into a look of awe, eyes glued towards her

she senses his gaze, turns to him and quickly bows down as a polite greeting

“sorry, but has the class been going on for a while?”

she speaks

“oh, um, what— what?”

“oh,” she looks confused, but rephrases her question, “what time did the class start? i had a hard time finding this lecture hall.”

she’s talking to him, not just leaning her head on his shoulder

“seven”

was all wonpil could say

“it started at 7? cool, i’m not that late then!” she cheers, grinning shyly. wonpil watches the way she puts a strand of hair tucked beneath her ear. she’s pulling out her laptop from her bag when she notices a pair of wide eyes still on her person

“is… is this seat taken?” she asks, and wonpil hasn’t even taken in the fact that this is the same person from the bus

“yes”

tongue-tied wonpil strikes again, blinking back his own obliviousness to her question

“i mean— no, now it is, by you. you’re sitting there, um, i— feel free to sit wherever you want”

he’s scrambling for his words, flustered cheeks heating up amidst the warmth of the room

she just nods her head in understanding, and wonpil finally realizes he’s been staring at her direction for longer than he should have

“STRESS”

the professor verbalized into her mic which causes wonpil to look to the front all of a sudden

right, right. he’s at a lecture. what’s gotten him so fidgety and embarrassed and now all that he’s pretending to type on his google doc is

sdfjfjdfhshllsghgjghsh

just so he looks busy next to the girl who fell asleep on him on the bus

was there any point in preoccupying his mind with thoughts of her, and her head resting on him? no it’s stupid, wonpil knows this.

people do it all the time, by accident, due to exhaustion, they don’t mean a thing by it

but wonpil is curious, and this is going to kill him. for sure

so he peeks at her again, and like a normal, decent student that she is (compared to wonpil at this point let’s be real) her hands are busy hand writing whatever the professor was saying

meanwhile, wonpil continues to sdfjskgnglddfjs his way to a passing B in this class

even in this large, spacious lecture hall he can still take in her scent

maybe it’s a new perfume that’s up and coming, that’s why it smells so strongly on her

oh! he can ask that? hey, do you mind sharing what line of perfume you’re using? it smells really good

it sounds like a common question, right? i mean if you wear strong fragrances you’re bound to be asked a question about it

he’s about to ask, he really was so ready to ask, what was he gonna lose? his dignity?

over a simple, inquisitive question?

“and now before we go on a twenty minute break, it’s time to introduce yourself to the person sitting close to you”

...

why do college professors have to do this?

wonpil bites his lip, at this point in time he’s a senior who’s fed up with ice breakers like this. if it were any other person sitting next to him, in front of him, behind him— he would just go with his usual introduction

“hi i’m kim wonpil, studying psychology and i graduate in the spring. i’m taking this class for a major requirement”

then go about his merry way.

but with her? she and him have history

sort of, and it’s the kind of history that is recent and wonpil is unsure if she is even aware of the weird string of fate-like connection they have

or, wonpil, hear your consciousness out

it’s not a big deal, and in the scenario she doesn’t remember she fell asleep on the bus on another person

then you can just say hi like usual, and cut the string of fate there and then

(but does wonpil really want that?)

“hi”

oh crap she’s started it

wonpil braces himself for whatever outcome this interaction comes out to. he’ll let her speak, and tailor his response from there

“i’m sorry, this might be really weird but that’s your sweater, right?”

so she didn’t give her name, her major, anything substantial about herself but instead shoots wonpil a question

pointing at the sweater that’s draped on the seat in front of wonpil

wonpil doesn’t even check to look. he gulps, nods his head and squeaks, “yeah… why?”

something in her eyes flash by, almost like a glint of recognition

she puts a hand on her mouth, and wonpil can make out the faintest shade of pink blushing its way to her ears

it’s kinda cute

“did someone happen to… fall asleep on you on the bus coming to campus today?”

“... yes?”

“that was me” she buries her face even further into her hands, almost lowering down to the chair

wonpil thought she was gonna fall for some reason so he had to remedy the situation somewhat

“i.. i, um, did you have a good nap?”

great comeback

wonpil was so ready to leave the auditorium and never come back after the break

but he hears her giggle, and slowly come out of her shyness

and it’s a sweet sight, to finally see the way her cheeks look full of embarrassed laughter

as she twirls around a length of hair nervously

and taps the pen on the surface of her desk repeatedly

it was endearing, and wonpil forgets about why he was panicking in the first place

she then explains that she had work the whole day, and only had an hour to rest up before going to this 7pm class

wonpil listens intently, watching her mannerisms and the lilt in her voice when she continues to apologize for falling asleep on him without realizing it

“i’m not usually a deep sleeper, but work was exceptionally tiring today and i just needed at least a bit of shut eye” wonpil nods understandingly, almost worried about her health

“where do you work if you don’t mind me asking?”

“at the coffee shop a few blocks away from campus,” she answers, head tilting to the side “i’m still wearing my uniform for it… is it too obvious?”

wonpil didn’t even realize her black long sleeves was a cafe uniform

but it did explain her strong coffee smell

“something like that,” wonpil decided to say, curling his lips upward, feeling content and relieved at the turnout of events

for the 20 minute break, wonpil thought they’d reconcile over what transpired between them and mind their own business soon enough— even if he thinks it’s hard to do that now knowing something about her

which intrigues wonpil

and, quite frankly, he’d like to talk to her more

just so he has an excuse to watch her emotions paint her face beautifully

but there was a pause right after their short conversation

and in real Awkward Wonpil Fashion, he shows her the 30 page reading material, in all of its flimsy glory and starts asking questions about it

“so uh did you read the whole thing? i thought it was interesting up until the part that i dozed off”

and wonpil got his wish; he sees her eyes shine in surprise at his sudden attempt of an intellectual discussion

but she doesn’t deter him away

and actually, she’s read the whole damn thing. and wonpil was beyond amazed at the level of detail she explains to him about the parts he didn’t understand

he actually starts typing real notes while she was talking

this made her laugh in between her explanations, and wonpil didn’t understand what was so funny about

the fight or flight response

“it’s just. the way you’re typing this down so seriously, i’m sure the prof can explain it better”

wonpil shakes his head no, shakes it so much it hurt his temples

she laughs again, and he likes hearing that sound

“do you want to see what i’ve typed the past hour and a half of this class?’

“bet :p”

“actually nevermind” flashbacks of dsfkjsdjffdslkg ring true in wonpil’s mind as he quickly backspaces the nonsense in his notes

and the conversation continues from more psychology talks, to figuring out they’re in the same major but she’s a recent transfer student from last year

and had been juggling work and school since the start of her senior year

wonpil wonders why he hasn’t seen her in the coffee shop yet

he would have done a double take the first time meeting her there for sure

“oh you’re too kind,” she suddenly replies???

wonpil had said his thoughts out loud

without further embarrassing him, she says that she had only started working there since it’s more convenient for her; wonpil feels grateful she doesn’t dwell on the compliment any longer

alas, the break finishes and the droll of the professor’s voice reverberates throughout the room

this time, though, wonpil definitely feels more alert (awake enthusiastic) as the two of them exchange little comments about the class material

and before you know it, class is over and wonpil is an excited bunny. since they’re by the door they got to leave before everyone else

wonpil thinks it’s time to part ways… but this time they’re not fully strangers at all. they’re taking the same class, same major, they even know each other’s name.

surely this isn’t the last time, right?

“hey, wonpil…” he didn’t even realize that they have started walking towards the bus stop together

“hm?”

“i think i owe you one,” she starts, stopping her tracks to face him. eyebrows up in hesitation, wonpil waits for her to finish

“you know, for taking over your personal space for my own comfort”

“oh that? haha that’s nothing :)” honestly if wonpil can do it again he’d volunteer in a heartbeat

“no, really. let me make it up to you. coffee? on me? i make a mean cappuccino” she winks

it strikes through wonpil’s heart

no need for resuscitation.. yet

“or a matcha latte? whatever you’d like it’ll be on me”

“anything!” wonpil exclaims, suddenly realizing the offer being given to him, the excitement bubbling up inside him again. “i mean, anything you’d like to have me try. surprise me,” he corrects himself

that manages to have her grin widely, eyes twinkling in excitement similar to wonpil’s and he thinks

they can get along

they can get to know each other better this way

“would you be up to go for one now?”

“oh— oh! now?”

“yeah, that way none of us takes the risk of falling asleep back on the bus hehe”

well, he really wouldn’t mind that happening a second time

“really now, wonpil?”

andddd he exposed himself again

it’s fine, she tugs his hand slightly to lead him to the bus that has arrived and wonpil follows in a daze

it’s a little full, so they have no other choice but to stand and hold onto the railings above

“guess no falling asleep here…” she teases, and now wonpil can’t use his hands to hide his blushing face

but the feeling of her just close by

and the scent of coffee lingering in the air

in between them

just inches away from each other

it’ll do for now

#day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 au #kim wonpil scenarios #kim wonpil imagines #kim wonpil x reader #day6 fic #dot series #by:jiae

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deanxyou · 3 years

Text

Request: Male or gender-neutral character Notes: I've never written as a gender-neutral character before but hopefully this suffices? 🥺 Let me know if there's anything I could do better! Title: For the Weekend Rating/warnings: PG-13, honestly really fluffy, alluding to sexual stuff but nothing graphic Word Count: 1051

It was the first weekend in a while that was dedicated to just you and Dean. You’d been prepping for the past week – making sure the bunker was in order, fully stocked with food and snacks for Cas and Sam should they want it, and packed both yours and Dean’s suitcase so time wouldn’t be taken away from the case he was working on that week. You were buzzing with excitement by the time Dean pulled the car around to the front of the bunker, and you hopped into the passenger’s seat after throwing your bags in the back of the car.

“Ready?” he asked with a wide grin across his face, reaching over to give your thigh a soft squeeze.

“You have no idea how ready I am!”

“Awesome, let’s hit the road then.”

With that, Dean hit the gas and cranked up the tunes and before you knew it you were on the open road. You’d booked a cabin on the outskirts of Kansas – Dean wasn’t keen on going too far just in case Sam needed him for anything, but it was secluded enough that you knew it would be just the two of you alone for the weekend. It even had a hot tub!

It was pure serenity when you arrived at the cabin. Surrounded by wilderness, towering trees, and a flowing stream just a two-minute walk away. Of course, the gorgeous environment around you was just an added extra – you could have been in a shitty for all you cared, the main thing was that you were with Dean, alone, with no interruptions. And he didn’t waste any time in scooping you up and carrying you into the bedroom merely seconds from when your bags touched the floor by the front door.

Most of your time was spent just being one with another; physically, mentally, and spiritually. The connection you already had with the eldest Winchester was simply enhanced and you were in a blissful state with each second you spent with him. You laughed, you played, you snuggled up together with a movie and popcorn until you inevitably fell asleep on his lap. But instead of disturbing you, Dean simply stroked your hair until the movie finished before he gently scooped you up and brought you to bed. And that was all in the first day.

Saturday morning, you sprung out of bed and started cooking a breakfast you’d been planning all week. Pancakes, crispy bacon, sausages, eggs just how he liked them with all the toast he could ask for. You’d managed to sneak the ingredients into your luggage before you left so the idea of surprising him made it all the better.

You spent a solid hour preparing anything, and the smell of it must have woken Dean up as he came shuffling nose first, bed-hair still ripe and eyes barely open until he stopped at the dinner table, and they sprung open in shock.

“W-wh—how? Where did you…”

“Shh-shh! No talking, only eating. Sit your ass down here, Winchester,” you instructed with an excitable grin as you pulled out a seat at the table for him. Dean shook his head in disbelief, before doing as told and sitting down. You leaned in and planted a soft peck on his cheek before you took to your own seat next to him. You looked over at Dean and saw him just staring at the food in front of him.

“What?” you asked, brows furrowing in concern. “Is something wrong?”

“What? Oh, no. Nothing at all,” Dean said before cracking a laugh. “The opposite, actually. I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me.”

“Well, there’ll be plenty of that in the future, Dean. Now, eat up before it gets cold!”

Dean grinned and, much like a child, started grabbing heaped spoonful’s of food from each dish and piling it onto his plate. You were honestly impressed by how much that boy could actually eat, ‘cause by the time you were full, he was on his thirds with no stop in sight. It was satisfying to hear his moans of appreciation as he swallowed each bite, and you were glad all your hard work and planning had worked out.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing. You both decided to have no schedule while you were away – you were just living in total liberation for the weekend and would decide in the moment how you would spend your time. Most of it was on the couch, slowly making it through the bundle of DVDs you’d brought with you, snacking on chips and cookies and all the junk food in the cabin, and napping when you wanted to.

By the time sundown approached, you decided to make the most of the hot tub and both slipped into it after letting it heat up. Against the chill of the night air, the hot water was blissful against your skin, making your whole-body tingle as you sunk into it next to Dean. You’d also brought a couple of beers out with you, and as you clunked your bottles together as the sun went down behind you, you honestly couldn’t think of a more perfect moment.

Dean pulled you closer to him, his hand moving from your hip up to your cheek, his thumb gently caressing it as he looked right into your eyes.

“Y/N, I love you, y’know that?” he said softly, plump lips settling on a soft smile.

“Of course, Dean. And I love you. More than anything in this world.”

“I know on Monday we’ll have to go back to normal. Working, hunting, researching… part of me never wants to go back. Part of me wants to stay here, in this moment, with you, for the rest of my life.”

You chuckled softly. “We both know that’s not realistic, but me too.”

“I guess we’ll always have the memories.”

“Exactly. Until we come back next time, you mean.”

Dean let out a chuckle. “Exactly.”

With that, he pulled you in for a deep and tender kiss; soft, plump lips caressing yours as you sunk into his touch. In that moment, you were happy, but what made gave you the most joy was knowing Dean, for the first time in a while, was happy, too.

#request #reader x dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural

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for-ests · 4 years

Text

Please Don’t Go: Kageyama Tobio (Part 2)

Part 1

Warnings: mild gore, angst, then fluff

Word count: 2, 757

Sirens lit up the once vacant, lifeless street, signaling to residents that something grim had unfolded. Curiosity ushered everyone who was wakened by the crash to timidly stand by and watch. Many of them college students like yourself, some who knew you and prayed for your recovery.

Unfortunately, it took almost five minutes for the ambulance to arrive as strangers knelt beside you to make sure your breathing steadied.

Hearing the commotion from outside, and watching the red and blue lights reflect through her windows, Yachi gained the courage to step onto the street. Whatever had happened, she had a gut-wrenching feeling that you were involved. You should have arrived over 15 minutes ago, and she knew you were not the type of person to cancel last minute without warning. Especially this late at night, and after an argument with your boyfriend.

As those thoughts swirled through her brain, Yachi began to grow more panicked, her pace picking up as she rounded that fateful corner. She had called you five times, each call dialing fully until it reached your voicemail.

An ambulance was in sight, and so was a police vehicle. Her eyes scanned the road, noting a dent in a residential car and a group of first responders huddled around a female body.

Her stomach flipped. Just by glancing at the color of your hair, she knew it was you.

“Oh my god…!” The blonde gasped, sprinting towards you, tears gathering in her eyes. “No… No… please.”

A police officer heard her cry and turned towards her. “Mam, you need to stay back.” He warned calmly, stepping in front of her path.

Bystander’s turned their attention to her, as well as the first responders. A woman who had also been crying started to sob even harder, she looked away with an expression masked in guilt.

“That’s my friend!” Yachi replied desperately. “I need to see…” The words died in her throat. “She was walking to my house!”

The officer reassuringly set a hand on her shoulder, trying to keep her attention averted from your crumbled state. “She’s alive and in stable condition. Your friend will be okay.”

Yachi furiously wiped her tears away. “O-okay.”

“What’s her name?” The officer asked. “She’s unconscious and I need to write a name down.”

“Y/N, L/N.” She relayed, clenching her fists in frustration. How did this happen? Was there anything she could do? Yachi took a deep breath and closed her eyes again, trying to get rid of the rest of her tears. She needed to be strong for you, whatever had happened. You were going to be okay and that’s all that mattered. “She’s a student here.”

Despite that, her heart still pounded in her chest as she watched the first responders create a makeshift splint for your leg and arm, hoisting you onto a gurney. For a brief second, she saw your face. Cuts and bruises littered your ashen skin. “Please let me ride in the ambulance with her!” She asked, practically begging.

Since it wasn’t a critical emergency, Yachi was let into the ambulance to accompany you. She rushed over and hopped inside, managing to refrain from trembling at the seriousness of your situation. Normally, she wouldn't be able to speak, yet alone make a fuss at a legitimate crime scene, but she couldn’t leave you alone. You couldn’t be alone when you woke up.

You would do the same for her.

“She’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” The medic sitting across from her said as he hooked you up to an IV system. “She’ll head right into surgery.”

“Thank you.” Yachi managed to smile, though she knew it wouldn’t suffice. She was queasy. Your body looked mangled, and she could see the break in your lower leg, the bone almost breaking your skin.

The blonde gripped your hand through the short and silent ride to the emergency room. Squeezing it tightly, she quietly thanked God that your injuries hadn’t worsened. She watched your chest rise and fall, calming her own worries as the minutes passed.

For a moment, her conscious cleared past the present as she remembered the reason you were trekking to her apartment. Kageyama.

Yachi pulled her phone out of her sweatshirt pocket and immediately texted him.

Yachi Hitoka: Y/N was in an accident. She’s going into surgery, please meet me at the hospital on third street. I’ll call you when I arrive.

Kageyama Tobio: Please tell me she’s okay

Kageyama Tobio: Oh my god, please

Kageyama Tobio: Yachi?

One missed call from Kageyama Tobio

Yachi Hitoka: She’s going to be okay, I promise

Kageyama Tobio: I’m running there now

Kageyama Tobio: I’ll meet you in the lobby

Kageyama grabbed his wallet, keys, and a jacket before sprinting down the same street you had before. Heart pounding in his chest, he ran as hard as he could.

He ran past the scene, barely paying attention to who was there, and who was tending to the mess. All he could think about was you.

How could he let this happen? How could he let you walk away?

Stressed beyond comprehension, he couldn't even cry. He ran the full twenty minutes to the hospital where Yachi claimed you would be.

Bursting through the hospital doors, he found Yachi's grief-stricken expression waiting for him.

"How bad is it?" He panted, biting onto his lip so hard that he could taste blood.

The blonde looked reluctant to tell him, seeming to realize that he would find himself at fault. "Broken bones."

Kageyama's heart fell. For a moment, he couldn't speak. He could not think.

Then suddenly, without warning, your boyfriend kicked the nearest waiting room chair. "Fuck!"

Yachi stepped back, startled. "It's not your fault!" She hesitated to reach forward and console him. Kageyama was incredibly rigid, shoulders tense and jaw clenched.

He slumped down in the same chair he tried to break, and didn't say another word until the doctor came to the waiting room four hours later.

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Surprisingly, you emerged from your slumber peacefully. Even if pain was the first thing to enter your mind, the second was the sight of your friends cramped into the small hospital room, all of them dozing off.

You blinked a couple times, trying to recall where you were and what had happened. Gazing down at your legs, you almost gasped aloud. The cast around the lower portion of your body seemed to reflect a broken femur. Along with some bones in your arm that you couldn’t identify. Your entire left arm was encased.

Starting to panic, your eyes darted to the man sitting beside you. Kageyama stared at you with tender eyes, the only person awake so he could give Yachi the couch to nap on.

“Good morning.” He whispered, squeezing your hand gently. Your cheeks inflamed when you realized he had been holding it the entire time. “You’re finally awake.”

Weakly, you squeezed his hand back. You immediately remembered what happened last night, and why you were even out on the street in the first place. It was strange how little your argument seemed now that you were lying in a hospital bed. Wondering if he felt it too, your lip started to quiver.

“I’m sorry.”

Your mouth parted in surprise.

“Sorry for what?”

Kageyama grimaced. Now, you could finally glimpse the reality of his expression. Anyone who knew him could tell he was disheveled. The bags under his eyes had worsened. It seemed like he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

“What I said to you last night was unfair. I didn’t mean it. And now-” He started, too choked up to say anything coherent. You had the feeling he wanted to reach out for you by the way he stumbled with his words, and how he anxiously gestured with each sentence. You watched that thought leave his eyes as he remembered the pain you must be in.

Guilt was evident in his tone, in his eyes, all over his face.

“Y/N… I love you and I haven’t been showing it. I’m sorry.”

Taking comfort in the fact that Kageyama could finally admit his wrongdoing, caused a smirk to cross your face. He rarely showed emotion, and right now you were witnessing an overload. “It really took me getting hit by a car to make you realize that, huh?”

“Not funny.” He said, even if slight smile curved upon his lips.

“I thought it was funny.” You heard Yachi’s chuckle from across the room.

The both of you turned to find her already scrambling from the couch to your side. “How are you feeling?” She asked cautiously. “You’ve been asleep for ten hours. Surgery took four.”

“It hurts, but I’m okay. For now," You answered honestly. In the moment it was terrifying, but you were lucky that you only had broken bones. Yachi looked like she wanted to say more, her eyebrows creased with worry. “Thank you for being there with me.”

“Of course.” She rolled her eyes to relieve some of the tension. The blonde could tell that you needed to have a private conversation with your boyfriend. “I should go get us some food, and let the doctors know you’re awake.”

“Thank you.” You weakly blew a kiss in her direction with your uninjured hand as she left the room.

Once the door closed, Kageyama leaned down and rested his head in your lap, hiding his face.

“Where’s your mind at?” You comfortably set your hand in his hair, running your fingers down the nap of his neck. Normally, you would be all too willing to fall back into his arms. But if that were to happen, the cycle would go on repeating itself. That’s not the life you wanted for yourself, and it was certainly not the life you wanted for Kageyama. If you couldn’t be the one by his side, hopefully someone else could.

He was struggling. And his way of dealing with it was pushing you away, something you couldn’t handle.

“What do you mean where’s my mind at?” He lifted his head, blinking in confusion. One hand was still intertwined with yours while the other gripped the railing of your hospital bed. You watched his muscles tense.

Strangely, the accident had provided your mind with clarity.

“I love you, Kageyama.” You gestured frantically between the two of you. There was barely a gap, but it felt like miles. “But do you still want to be with me? It feels like you don’t sometimes.”

“Of course I do.” He whispered. “I just… don’t want to bother you with my problems. I try to be better for you, for us, yet I keep failing.”

“You’re my boyfriend for a reason. I agreed to figuring out your problems with you.”

He knew he had no justifiable excuse. He had fucked up. What was wrong with his mentality? He hadn’t thought about you in his moments of despair. Your accident brought that to light and he couldn’t help but feel responsible.

“I love you, Y/N.” His shoulders relaxed. “I’ll do anything I can to make it up to you.”

“All I’m asking is that you show it more.” You reminded quietly, surprised at how quickly he had agreed with you. “I should be able to feel your love, like how I am right now.”

Your words were a challenge. After the years you had spent together, Kageyama was able to decipher your language.

“This last month has been difficult for the both of us. Not just you, Tobio.”

Suddenly feeling distressed, you prayed silently that your words were getting through to him. You wanted to kiss him so badly, to run your fingers along his face in a caressing touch. You wanted to move on like nothing ever happened but your heart couldn’t go through it again. There needed to be a change.

“You’re right.” He breathed, tension pulling harder and harder at the both of you. “I feel like you despise me. I don’t know how to make it right.”

His confession took you by surprise. Kageyama was never not confident, he never shied away from taking control of every situation. When he walked into the room, all eyes were always on him. You knew he was under an immense amount of stress and pressure because of it. But now it had taken a toll on your relationship.

“I’m not used to this… not knowing what to do.”

“You should be able to take comfort in the fact that I’m here for you. I should know things about you that no one else does.” You met his eyes again. “I thought you would have learned this after being together for three years.”

“Take comfort in the fact that no one has heard me say that before.” He leaned closer, an invitation. “You’re the only girl I need.”

Still upset, that comment made the corners of your lips curve slightly.

He was vulnerable for what seemed like the first time. That was a step in the right direction, a promising one. Now he knew you were serious. You wouldn’t tolerate his childish behavior any longer. You wanted something more with him, and he was going to have to work for it.

“I get so upset because… Because that’s how I feel too. That you’re the one for me.”

Even though Kageyama was sure you still wanted to scream at him, yet you held yourself with so much composure. It made his heart race. You looked beautiful just as you were, even when your eyes were red, hair matted to your face, and skin littered with cuts and bruises. He only wished this conversation happened sooner, because your injuries would disappear.

“I love you.” Kageyama repeated with glossy eyes. “For a moment I thought I had lost you.”

And with that, he closed the gap and pressed a kiss against your lips. His warmth enveloped you and you gripped onto him tight, as tight as you could without straining your weakened state.

“I can’t lose you, Y/N.” He whispered into your hair, holding your head to his. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize it.”

A few stray tears escaped your eyelids but he immediately wiped them away. His own were welling up, as he became unable to hold back any longer.

“You’re everything to me.” You tilted your head to kiss his cheek. You relished in the feeling of his hands grasping to you tightly, as if he might lose you again.

You hadn’t seen him cry in so long, longer than you could remember. He was always so strong, so secure. Most times it was because you thought he was emotionless when it came to you, but you had been proved wrong once again.

Kageyama opened his mouth to reply, but the door clicked open, signaling that Yachi was back to fret over you.

“Yay!’ She sang. “Everything is okay now?”

“Yes.” Kageyama replied, clearing his throat and refraining from showing any more emotion, especially in front of someone who wasn’t you.

“I’m great-" You gave her a thumbs up, chuckling as she started to unpack the food she had purchased. Well, Kageyama had. He had slipped her his wallet. “and starving.”

“Your wish is my command.” She handed you a plastic bowl of steaming ramen and packaged meat buns. Your mouth watered and you immediately reached to rip open the plastic.

"Um," You tittered, handing the buns back to Kageyama. "I need you to open it for me." Laughing helped subside the aches that came with every simple movement.

Your boyfriend snorted, and obliged. Unwrapping the snack, he held it to your mouth.

Food had never tasted so amazing as it did in that moment.

“Don’t eat too fast.” Chuckling, Yachi rummaged through the bag of snacks and handed Kageyama two milk pouches.

He smiled in thanks.

“I can’t believe after all these years that’s still your favorite.” You said through mouthfuls.

“Yeah.” Yachi teased. “You’d think he grow out of it by now.”

Kageyama rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

The rest of the day was spent watching movies and stuffing your faces full of unhealthy cafeteria food. Oddly, you wouldn't have wanted to spend it any other way.

#kageyama tobio #haikyuuwritersnet #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio imagine #haikyuu imgaine

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daybreak-academy-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Daybreak Academy: Chapter 74

Safely Mundane

Summary: In which picture day arrives at Daybreak Academy. Word Count: 1,506 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

“Picture day won't be so bad.” Strelitzia tried to tell Anora as the older smoothed out the younger's hair with a flat iron. “They tend to do us by house, then by year. So if we need to, you, me, and Affie can afford to be a little late, since we're in the middle Years.”

Anora hummed a little in response. Her head gently rocked as Strelitzia worked the flat iron against her hair. The warmth from the iron was nice, and the older girl was doing her best to be gentle.

“Vulpes will have their pictures taken in the auditorium.” she went on to ramble. “Leopardus is in the gym. Unicornis is in the cafeteria (which means we may have to eat off campus later). I'm not sure where Ursus and Anguis are having their pictures done. It should still be on campus, I think. I haven't been able to talk to Lauriam in awhile to be sure.”

Deciding she was finished with Anora's hair, Strelitzia gently placed the flat iron on her table before going to unplug it from the wall. The older girl then decided to go over to her dresser, humming a small tune to herself. Anora remained where she was at the table. For the first time, she was starting to realize just how long Strelitzia's hair was when it wasn't tied back. It reached well past her torso and, while thin, was soft enough that large pieces easily glided over her shoulder when she bent over.

“Should I use my red ribbon, or the black?” Strelitzia asked as she fished through her dresser drawer. “It won't matter for the year book- since it'll all be in black and white. But Lauriam likes to order the professional photos in color for safe keeping.”

“Why not keep it down?”

Strelitzia paused for a moment, then turned to face Anora. There was a small, pleasant smile on the younger girl's lips. The older blushed in the faintest shade of pink. “O-oh, I can't.” Stelitzia stammered. “I'd look too much like my-” She stopped herself to quickly shake her head. She turned back around to dig through her drawer again, pulling out the ribbon, then almost caught her hand as she closed the drawer. Now holding the ribbon up for Anora to see, Strelitzia once more asked; “Red or black?”

The younger one of the two made a funny little face as she thought it over.

“Red.” she officially decided.

It took the girls a few more minutes to decide they were ready before heading on out. Affie was waiting for them not far from the girls' dorms. His characteristic afro was a bit poofier than normal, and the suit he wore looked like it had been neatly ironed out some time before. When he saw Anora and Strelitzia come up, he immediately waved to them.

“It's picture day, ladies!” he cheerfully declared. “And both of you look absolutely picture perfect!”

The humble blushes on the girls' faces were equal. Affie laughed at them for a moment before turning his attention to Anora.

“Wow Anora,” he remarked, “After everything you've been through this past week -going into a coma, getting lost on the field trip-, getting school pictures done must seem so mundane.”

Anora quickly shook her head- indicating that the mundane was exactly what she needed right now. It earned another laugh from Affie. He trailed off when he noticed the sports tape wrapped around Anora's ankle- the rest hidden by a low cut sock.

“How's your foot?”

“Still sore...” she replied, even lifting her foot up a little to rotate it at the ankle. Her point was proven when she'd flex her foot, and the small shot of pain made her wince. Both Strelitzia and Affie flinched back in sympathy.

“I thought so.” the Vulpes boy told her. “You're still walking with a limp. Be careful, though; it's not like we can carry you across campus or anything.”

Anora gave Affie a bright smile. She was lucky that she had so many people that cared about her.

With the trio together, they started to head toward the auditorium. They did not have a hard time getting there. It didn't even take them long to find a spot near the middle rows to sit and wait in. Anora tried to relax as she looked around the auditorium. At this point, it seemed that a lot of the younger students had already gotten their pictures done. Everyone else that remained looked to be about her age or older.

Ava was sitting with crossed legs near the edge of the auditorium stage. The curtains were drawn- possibly because the camera was setup behind them. Every so often someone Anora didn't recognize would peek their head through the curtain and tell Ava something. The Vulpes headmaster would then nod her head before calling out the next student. In between those moments, she gently swayed from side to side, as if she were remembering a soothing song.

Beside her was Shelby. The turtle didn't do much other than hide in its shell- occasionally coming out whenever Ava called a new student, giving her a dark glare as if she had woken it from a nap. Some times he came out to just stare at the students crowded in the auditorium. Anora could have sworn that he looked right at her at some point. Suffice to say, a distinct chill ran up her spine.

When Ava called out Anora's name, the young woman slowly got up and started to walk to the stage. Sure enough, behind the curtain was the photographer and all of their expensive looking equipment. The area set up for the photos was the standard picture day setup; two softboxes were placed on opposite sides of the camera on its tripod. The backdrop was a generic soft gray and blue gradient, with a small stool placed not far from it. Anora awkwardly made her way to the stool and carefully took a seat. Whoever had been here before her must have been taller; her feet barely touched the ground. Or maybe the photographer had it that way for a reason? It's not like they were telling her that she could adjust it.

“How you doin' today, hun?”

Anora looked at the photographer and offered a nervous half smile. Seeing it made the photographer laugh.

“Well I hope that's not the smile you're going to give for your picture!” they noted with a chuckle. “Now, if you can, could you sit up a bit straighter for me? Yes, just like that. Turn your head a little to the left… Yes! Great! Stay just like that for me...”

The young woman tried to sit as still as she could while the photographer took their photos. She waited for the flash from the softboxes, but it never came. The photographer snapped away at their camera without a single light flash. After a minute or so, the photographer got up from their camera and gave Anora a smile.

“All done, honey. You did great!”

For a moment, Anora wondered if the photographer was just messing with her. There was no way they were finished already. But was she going took a gift horse in the mouth? Of course not! She got up from the stool, giving the photographer a small smile of thanks, before quickly making her way back over to Strelitzia and Affie.

Affie was the first to look up and notice her. “Are you all done?” he asked- a small hint of surprise was laced in his voice.

Anora nodded her head before taking a seat. It wasn't until she sat down that she felt a sudden wave of exhaustion pass over her. She quickly blamed it on picture day. When was the last time she had a professional photo of her done, anyway? Back when she was three?

“It's awful being put on the spot like that, isn't it?” Strelitzia wondered, giving Anora a small smile of assurance. “I'm sure your pictures will turn out beautiful.”

Anora lulled her head from side to side for a moment. Would they turn out nice? She wouldn't really know until they came in. A part of her realized that she'd have to ask her cousin if he wanted any prints. She'd have to ask him in an email- maybe closer to the time the preorders came in. And then, a smile started to appear on Anora's lips, which soon became a bubbly laughter.

Strelitzia and Affie looked at each other before turning back to Anora. With a small raise of his eyebrow, Affie asked, “You alright there, Anora?”

But all the young woman could do was laugh. Strelitzia had been right- so many eventful things had happened to her in the last month, even the most mundane of activities were like a breath of fresh air. Hopefully, the rest of October was going to be just as boring, and predictable, and just so normal as today. She deserved it.

#daybreak academy #chapter 74 #kingdom hearts fanfiction #Anora #Strelitzia #Affie #Season 2

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sugarfreecapsicle · 5 years

Text

neighborly 2/2

moodboard by the one and only @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan

moodboard by the lovely @ohcaptainmystan

part two of two for my submission to @buckygrantbarnes writing challenge! hope you enjoy!

warnings: so much fluff oh my god

NeighborAU

(gif credit)

A week ago Natasha had relieved Bucky of his cat-sitting duties. Sometimes he missed the little shit, but then he remembered all the rips in his curtains and holes under his sofa and the feeling all but vanished. The apartment was close to holding no remaining trace of Vlad the Impaler (not his actual name that Bucky couldn’t remember even if he tried) - but all he could think about in the aftermath was the tone in your voice the first and last night you’d spoken to him.

Sounds like it’s better I don’t.

Your dog hadn’t had a reason to bark, Bucky assumed - he hadn’t received another sticky note. Those he would readily admit he missed. You matched him in your short lived battle of wits, and you definitely didn’t look at all the way he’d imagined - no green skin, hairy wart on an angular nose, no peaked black hat. Alarmingly beautiful, in fact, and he wasn’t at all prepared for you.

Bucky sips at his beer and stares at the piano, still pushed up against the adjoining wall to your apartment. The floor creaks underneath his stride, new thoughts battling for the win of his ultimate decision.

The padding of the bench desperately needs replacing, but it’s an expense he can put off a while longer. The wooden cover squeaks away, revealing the tarnished ivory and ebony keys underneath. Tuning the piano had been necessary although unaffordable. The first note coursed from his fingertip to his chest, a comforting sigh against the chaotic ambiance of Brooklyn outside his window.

Beau’s ears perked, a small boof alerting you to something new. Music, piano specifically - and it sounded like it was coming from your neighbor’s apartment. A small indiscretion revealed to you that maybe the blue-eyed babysitter didn’t have a radio blasting but was actually playing.

Bowl of cereal in hand, you step barefoot over to the wall, eyebrows furrowed as you attempt to remember the tune. Familiar, maybe from high school lessons on classical pianists or even in the background of a LooneyToons episode. He started out a little unsure, tentative against the keys then gradually became reassured, confident into a beautiful rendition. All too soon, the song ended, and your heart sank as your legs bent, back sliding against the wall that once reverberated with sound. Your ears became so eager in hope for another song, you noticed the timbre of your breathing. Should you knock? Should you try to make a request through the drywall and paint?

You adjusted on the floor, setting the bowl down where Beau happily drank up the remaining milk. Pink notes danced in the artificial breeze from your oscillating fan.

Returning from another run in the park - this time notably without Steve who had taken up the mantle of team leader on a new project - Bucky wanted nothing more than a meaty breakfast and a quiet morning. He hadn’t bothered looking up from his keys until the lock turned over, and he grinned.

Talented Tenant,

Think you could play some Tchaikovsky tonight? Nocturne in C-minor is a personal favorite, if you happen to know it.

Thanks

Admiring Acquaintance

Late night television clips with canned audience laughter hummed through your otherwise noiseless apartment, Beau napping on the couch beside you. You’d been distracted at work, replaying the daydream over and over again of gentle piano music flowing into your apartment again, soon followed by your neighbor knocking on your door with variants of flowers, chocolates, something entirely corny that could only make sense in a teenage after-school-special. Being his neighbor wasn’t so bad with the cat gone, and even if Beau barked at the noise of the piano, it was nothing compared to his panicked yelping in the days prior. Even in the city that never sleeps, the sounds of the night muffled to a low din of generic noise like chatter in an office building.

And gently, lowly, you heard it - your request. Unable to hide your grin, you sink lower into your sofa, disturbing Beau only a little. He didn’t even make a noise, an eye open and single ear perked in mild interest. The melody sends you reeling, hand skirting the floor as you splay out, knees arching over your canine friend.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but thank any deity that might exist Saturday was upon you instead of a workday. Sunlight entered through the linen curtains, a soft glow filling your cozy space. Beau now lay on the floor, asleep and snoring lightly, and you allowed your body to stretch out your sore muscles from cramped sleep.

In your routine of coffee brewing and kibble for Beau, you wondered if the olive branch might reach further than one lullaby. Steaming brew in hand, you step on the balls of your feet to the front door and check.

A blue note flutters against the painted blue.

Beautiful Boarder,

I hope you enjoyed last night’s piece. Join me tonight for a private concert?

Bucky

Armed with a name and reassurance, you scribble your reply and place it by his doorknob. Your door is open when you hear the click and rattle of his and can’t stop yourself from shuffling inside quickly.

Brows knitted together, Bucky stares at your door momentarily then addresses the pink slip of paper.

Bucky,

Give me a time, and I’ll be there. Black tie affair?

He smiles, but sinks a little noticing your lack of signature.

Normally I’d say black tie, but since it’s Saturday, let’s settle for anything comfortable. See you at seven.

Maybe it’s too much that you’ve nearly emptied your closet in search of an outfit when the designation of comfort had been established. Nothing felt right, seemed right, for the occasion if it could even be considered one. First impressions long gone, but could this be considered new territory? Was it still some kind of apology?

Ten minutes to seven, you managed a shower and brushed teeth but lingered by your bed with clothes piled around. Jeans would do, your favorite pair was soft enough, and a shirt you’d nabbed from Target’s men’s section french-tucked in the front would have to suffice. Beau sat obediently nearby and watched as you psyched yourself up in the half mirror by your dresser.

“I won’t be long, bud,” you say as you fuss with your hair. “Behave while I’m gone, okay?”

Beau gets a pat on the head as you walk out, mindfully slipping keys into your pocket. You knock on the door, painted the same blue as yours, and shift your weight heel to toe and back again. His lock clicks, the door opens, and oh, he’s grinning like the sun came out from behind rainclouds.

“Glad you accepted,” he says, leaning into a one-armed hug. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to step foot in here.”

He pulls away, and you can’t help but notice an absence on his left - an arm that had once been there now gone. Your glance had hopefully only been a flicker and hadn’t interrupted your shy grin. “Jury is still out on the want, but I’ll let you know if they approve after the show you promised me.”

Bucky ushers you in and revels in your gentle gasp. Candles illuminated the space entirely, low warm light spreading from his kitchenette where a meager dinner was plated to the mainstage of the piano.

“Too much?”

You turn to face him, still a bit dazed and smirk. “It’s very Phantom of the Opera.”

“That a good thing?” An eyebrow quirks as he leads you to the proffered meal of roasted chicken, assorted vegetables and wine.

“Very.”

Bucky is sure that if you keep drinking in his efforts like a kid in a candy store the dopey grin won’t leave his face all night.

“Good. I hope dinner’s -” he pauses, looking up at you impishly. You’ve already dribbled a little sauce down your chin, and Bucky can’t resist running his thumb over the streak to smudge it away. “ - alright?”

You both laugh, a pink flush over your cheeks as you chew the remaining bite in your mouth. A thumbs up is manageable given the circumstances, and after the bite is swallowed you divulge your passion for cooking. Bucky actively listens, teases you intermittently until plates are cleared. You insist on doing the dishes, but Bucky has his hand around yours when he asks to play for you first.

At dinner you’d forgotten about his missing arm - his sparkling eyes and supple lips had kept you distracted enough as you ate, but he gathered the metallic appendage from another room before walking out to his piano. You applaud, and he bows with a light laugh.

Bucky’s still a little apprehensive, muttering that it’s been a while, and you can’t hold back a quipped, “that’s what she said” that snaps the tension in his shoulders. It’s almost a shame he’s facing away from you on the couch until you watch as his body sways along to the full-bodied music filling the room. Shoulders tense and sigh like ocean waves obedient to the moon’s pull controlling the tide, hips rock to shift his weight as he needs to reach one end or the other. A dance, almost, you’re certain as beautiful as the music itself let alone the musician.

Quietly, you move to stand near him, watch his hands fly over the keys, feebly try to memorize the way his face pulls together in concentration. He’s in another world, maybe somewhere in the sheet music that he’s not even using. Bucky slows, notes fading into the diffused city noise when his fingers no longer touch the keys.

He chances a look up at you, hopeful and full of transported youth that morphs into worry. “You’re crying.”

Your fingers swipe under your eyes, collecting brimmed tears. Bucky stands and takes your hands, replacing them with his thumbs and palms your cheeks.

“If I’m that awful, I’m sorry,” he murmurs with a playful glint in his eyes. “I warned you it’s been a while.”

You chuckle and bite your lip. “You’re wonderful.”

“Me or the music?” he counters through a bashful smile, delighted you haven’t removed yourself from his hands.

“Both.”

Heat rises in his cheeks, and Bucky is all too aware you are close enough to taste, eyes darting down to the lip between your teeth. Soft orchid wafts to his nose, hinted with a few of the herbs from dinner. Warmth spreads to his palms that cup your face.

“Well?” he asks, a whisper that dances over your nose, eyes fluttering.

“Well what?” you match his tone, darting from lips to eyes and back.

“Can I get your name before you kiss me?”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fan fiction #bucky imagine #bucky drabble

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schtroumpf-a-lunettes · 6 years

Text

The Smurfs That Canon Forgot, Ch.2

AO3 link | FF.net link | Can also be read right here on this post!

Ch1 here

I’m posting this chapter late because I was busy nearly getting fully taken in and deceived by a Chinese company lol. It’s longer than the first chapter though, hope that makes up for it a bit. Also, chapter updates will be weekly from now on, at least for all the future chapters that are already written out. Enjoy!

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Everyone slept in longer than usual. Once Harmony was awake, he made sure to rouse everyone else with a blast of his horn, much to their chagrin. As the smurfs had awakened one by one, Father Time was bombarded with questions and he was burdened with the unpleasant task of informing them that there had been no miraculous return while everyone was asleep. This was quickly apparent to the smurfs who had slept outside and yet they asked hopefully after Papa and the others anyway, in the off-chance that they had slept through the return, and that the seventeen smurfs had come back and were currently catching up on much-needed rest in their homes where they belonged. A couple of smurfs came running out from their homes at different times, eagerly asking for updates and prepared to be angry if they had been left to sleep through the return.

Once Harmony’s horn blared, the remaining smurfs came quickly running out from their homes or sat up from their makeshift beds on the snow outside.

Actor Smurf got up as usual, hungry and ready for breakfast. To him, all that he knew was that a loud noise had woken him and in his sleepy state confused it with the breakfast call. He went outside expecting to be greeted by delicious smells but instead stopped short when he was met with many smurfs milling about aimlessly and – Father Time?!

The events of the previous evening all came rushing back to him and it hit him that they still hadn’t come back. There were seventeen smurfs unaccounted for right now, and he was thinking of breakfast?! He’d just assumed they’d return during the night.

The villagers were starting to exchange looks of concern and a muted kind of panic was beginning to spread among some. Everything was supposed to be sorted out yesterday, and barring that – this morning. No, they were probably getting worried prematurely. They could be back any minute, so there was no use getting worked up right now. Right?

“Th-th-th-they still aren’t back!” Scaredy covered his eyes and shook.

“Aw, that’s enough of that! It’s early in the day. They have all the time in the world to get back to us, yeah! Why don’t we give them the benefit of the doubt, huh? The last thing I want is for them to get back from a time-travelling adventure to a bunch of miserable smurfs!” called out Tuffy Smurf. “We gotta be a little bit more patient, that’s what we gotta do!”

“You’re right. Have a bit of faith, smurfs!” Harmony agreed.

Father Time stood up from his sitting position and all eyes turned to him. If this was his only reason for standing, it was entirely unnecessary considering that he towered above the smurfs even when he was sitting down.

“Yes, I don’t necessarily think we have cause for concern right now. After all, Papa Smurf is with them, and so we can rest assured that the expedition is in good hands – of course, you don’t need me to tell you that, heh. In any case, I think there may just be a slight delay in their return for some logical reason currently unknown to us, and so for the time being, all we can really do is continue to wait. I’m afraid that I do have some matters that I need to attend to today, but you can be sure that I will return here this evening to check up on the village, and if you need me before then you can come to my dwelling to find me. But I think that the chances are very high that all of your fellow smurfs will be back before sunset.”

The smurfs bid Father Time farewell and Nanny told him firmly to make sure to get some rest too. And once he was gone, it was a matter of consciously maintaining a positive atmosphere, keeping their spirits high, or distracting themselves. Some smurfs were better at it than others…

“I’m really hungry…” Sloppy Smurf announced, and was met with a chorus of agreement. None of them had eaten breakfast yet, after all, considering that there had been no Greedy Smurf around to make it.

“I should have thought of that...” Nanny muttered, “I should have realised someone would need to make breakfast… I could have done that, easy.”

“No, Nanny. We all expected Greedy to be back f’r breakfast. And we’ve all been busy thinkin’ about other things, no need to claim the blame for this” Woolly patted her on the shoulder.

“So... what are we going to eat?” Tracker asked.

“Well, don’t be silly, we’re smurfs, aren’t we? And do we not have a huge stockpile of smurfberries? So what are we waitin’ for!” Nanny steeled herself and replied incredulously.

“Well… Of course, we don’t usually just eat smurfberries and sarsaparilla leaves for breakfast. Greedy, well, cooks us up something nice, normally…” Poet pointed out.

“Well, fiddlesmurfs!” Nanny laughed, “You smurfs’ve been spoiled rotten for far too long, don’t you know that food’s food? Now c’mon, let’s go get our breakfast!”

Everyone was hungry and so no-one was about to complain. Smurfberries and sarsaparilla leaves tasted just fine – it’s just that, it wasn’t the same compared to something like Greedy’s porridge or Greedy’s pancakes. It didn’t feel like breakfast, but then again, this was no ordinary breakfast under ordinary circumstances in the first place.

“Boy, I sure hope Greedy is back in time for lunch” Nosey Smurf said ruefully and garnered a few laughs.

“We don’t know what Greedy went through – er – is going through in the dinosaur ages, he could be really tired when he gets back! Would we really make him cook up our lunches right away?” Weakling Smurf objected, having taken the statement entirely at face value.

“Well, knowing Greedy… making a meal is just what would cheer him up and cause him to stop feeling tired!” Nosey grinned.

Weakling Smurf couldn’t help but smile, “More like eating a meal.”

Scattered good-natured laughs gave way to sighs. “I do hope we all get to see Greedy again today. And not just because he makes the tastiest meals you can imagine.”

***

Suffice it to say, Greedy was not there to make them lunch. All the smurfs had for themselves was a bowl of smurfberries for breakfast and a bowl of smurfberries for lunch. It was starting to look like they’d be having smurfberries for dinner too.

Some smurfs were torn between attending to their own matters or milling about in the main village to be at the ready for the return of the missing smurfs. Others took to passing their time in the village itself – two birds, one stone.

“Maybe they won’t arrive in the same place they left?” Poet wondered, “What if they landed somewhere in the forest?”

“Well then they could be anywhere! We can’t just go around searching the whole forest, especially in these kinds of temperatures!” Timber said in exasperation.

Poet sighed, “You’re right. Well I sure hope they arrive in the village, or that they’re making their way here right now.”

The sky started to grow dark, and everyone started feeling rather hungry. No one wanted to bring up the issue of dinner. No one wanted to concede to eating another meal without the missing smurfs.

Father Time returned to the village as promised.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I took an afternoon nap once my tasks were done and slept a bit through my alarm. Have Papa Smurf and the others returned yet?” He needed only to glance about at the glum faces before him to determine the answer to that question. “...I see. Well, that is quite troubling...”

He sat down heavily on the ground and the smurfs all gathered around.

“Just what is going on with them, Father Time, what’s up with those time crystals!” someone called out.

“Could they have landed somewhere else – say, in the forest, for instance?” Timber asked, echoing Poet’s earlier remark.

“I – I don’t know. Not unless there was a malfunction with the crystals or some kind of mistake was made, I – I just don’t understand it” he said softly, looking at the ground. Everyone fought to keep their panic and their despair at bay. Just one day, it had only been one day, it was nothing, it was no big deal.

Except when you’re time travelling, when you have the ability to go to any point in time -

No, there could be any number of reasons why they weren’t back yet – you have the ability to go to any point in time – except if something went wrong -

Father Time looked at them all.

“There’s no reason to worry too much just yet-” he began.

“Of course not!” Tuffy shouted, more anxiously than anything else, “I’m not worried at all. Those smurfs’ll be back soon. We can’t just…!”

“Yes, of course,” Father Time continued, “There’s many different possibilities here. I must admit that it seems not everything has gone according to plan, but it could simply be the case that the time crystals are malfunctioning somewhat, throwing off their time of arrival back to us or their destination. So their return could be off by a few days – a week – a few miles –“

Scaredy sunk to the ground, shaking all over. None of this sounded promising. So they could land somewhere dangerous? They could land right in the middle of Gargamel’s lair! They could-

Father Time went on. “The possibilities are... endless. But Papa Smurf is with them, it’s surely a minor setback they’ve encountered-”

And there was no guarantee they even survived the mission to return that little dinosaur back home.

“What do you suggest we do?” Nanny demanded, “You yourself stand there sayin’ the possibilities are endless, yet you tell us everything is probably fine?!”

“I’d continue to remain on the lookout over the next few days, with luck Papa Smurf and Grandpa Smurf will be able to get everyone back-”

“What do you think went wrong with the time crystals, Father Time?!”

“Everyone, please try to stay calm. As I said, it could be a problem with the time crystals malfunctioning. How they might have malfunctioned, I’m not entirely sure. Or – well, I’m sure, I mean the time crystals and their key are in good hands. I’m sure neither Papa Smurf nor Grandpa would have misplaced them-” Father Time didn’t sound fully convinced.

“But it wasn’t just Grandpa and Papa who were sent back in time like it was supposed to be… What if they did lose the crystals or that key you were so worried about?!” another smurf spoke up.

“Well...” Father Time hung his head. “If we are considering those as possibilities, then… It’s possible that they are all… lost in time...”

Some smurfs let out cries, some slumped, and others remained frozen where they stood.

“Without the crystals they wouldn’t have a method of travelling through time, without the key… They wouldn’t have a way to return to our specific point in time…”

“If I could just TRACK them!” Tracker yelled unexpectedly – he practically screamed the word “track”. “But no, they’ve travelled through time, there is no trail for me. But can’t you track them?! You’ve got to have some way! You’re Father Time!”

“I-”

“Couldn’t you just go after them? We know where they went – back to return that creature! We could just travel back to that point in time and find them!”

Father Time was shaking his head sadly. “The dinosaurs were around for… a while. I don’t know which specific point they went to, or the exact place they landed, nor do I know what crystal combination they used, we could search for forever and not find them...”

“But you’re Father Time” someone muttered bitterly, “Doesn’t that mean that you have all the time in the world?”

And how could they know the poor missing smurfs hadn’t simply had some tragedy befall them all soon after arriving back in time? Or if something went wrong and they had no way of travelling elsewhere, they would have lived for the rest of their lives surrounded by dinosaurs and be long dead either way. What practical difference did either of those scenarios make to everyone right here, right now?

“Those time crystals are just about impossible to track… I would need to have a very clear idea of exactly where and when to look. But at least we have some inkling of how far back they went… I will start making some investigations into it when I return back home, although I’m afraid that I can’t promise anything will come of it. As I said, I think we should all also continue to hold out hope for some time. If there are any new developments, please come and see me immediately, and I will continue to stay in close contact with all of you. I must be going now… I’m terribly sorry that you are all going through this...” Father Time took his leave with his head hung low.

Nanny commanded everyone’s attention once Father Time left.

“Alright smurfs, you heard what Father Time said earlier. The others may be coming back at any time, so there’s no use moping around for the time being. And Father Time just might be able to find some way to track them too, you never know! Until then, we all need to make sure that we keep this village running smoothly, y’hear me?”

Discussion broke out amongst everyone. The missing smurfs could be back by tomorrow, or they could be back next week. Or-

Waiting until tomorrow was one thing, but it was true that they all couldn’t afford to neglect their duties and their day-to-day lives until the other smurfs returned, seeing as they had no way of knowing exactly when that would be.

First thing’s first -

It was time to have a bowl of smurfberries for dinner.

#smurfs #the smurfs #Tracker Smurf #Nosey Smurf #Harmony Smurf

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thatswdgasterforya · 7 years

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Wip Fanfic

For those of y'all who want more backstory on this here Gaster, I made a little wip story for ya! This is before the accident happened, so he is still in the underground. Anyway, hope you all like!

Gaster lifted his head off of his arms, blinking wearily. Had he fallen asleep? He adjusted his glasses, his sight still blurry from his apparent nap.

Gaster had the unfortunate habit of falling asleep during his work, something he hoped his new pills would have helped. So far they hadn't.

One of his constructed hands rubbed his skull tiredly as Gaster attempted to look at his watch. He thought it said seven thirty. If it was, well....

The skeleton's head fell out of his hands as he let out a groan. He was supposed to meet Asgore right about now. What horrible timing. Another summoned hand reached into his pocket and fished out a pill bottle Labeled D-2B. Did he have enough?

Three pills.

If he stretched them out, he might be able to make them last three days. Might. He popped open the bottle and dropped one into his hand. Hopefully one pill would be sufficient.

He swallowed the pill without water, then put the pill bottle back into his lab coat.

Hope wasn't going to help anything. Action was. He knew that sooner or later, he would have to get more, or else things could get dire.

But the king had to be first priority. Gaster stood up out of his chair, stretching out his aching bones. He really needed to find better places to pass out on.

He looked at his watch again. If he wanted any chance of making it on time, he'd have to jump. But, at his current state, that could be risky.

He thought of the pills in his pocket again, then shook his head. No, one should suffice. As long as he didn't have to use any powerful magic, he should be fine.

Taking a deep breath, the skeleton jumped and entered a black nothingness. The void.

Gaster estimated around 20 seconds for his limit. After that, he'd need to leave before causing himself harm.

1 second.

Gaster walked forward 5 paces. Snowdin.

2 seconds.

He walked 5 more paces to the left. Hotland.

3 seconds.

He turned forward again. Something wasn't right...

4 seconds.

His magic shouldn't be burning him like that. No, he should still be within his limit. no, no!

5 seconds.

He sprinted without counting his paces, relying only on his instincts to guide him to his destination.

6 seconds.

He jumped out of the void, gasping as his soul glowed purple from within his ribs. He could feel his magic dripping from a small crack that newly formed.

He had landed on the grey path towards Asgore’s home, quite a distance away from where he had been trying to go.

The skeleton was shaking, his hands forming to hold up his head. He was wrong. Gaster doubted the pills in his pocket would last even a day at this rate. It was happening faster. Too fast.

He took a deep breath, calming his nerves. Ok, what symptoms had he been displaying? Sleepiness, though he had chalked that up to overworking. Forgetfulness. Sudden weakness...

He pulled out his soul, examining it. His magic was purple, for perseverance, making his soul slightly lavender under normal circumstances. A tiny fracture jutted out of a much larger crack in the middle of it, causing dark purple magic to gush from it. The magic dripped off his soul and through the holes in his hands.

Shit.

He had been so busy that he didn't even notice how large the crack had grown. The medication had numbed him instead of preventing further injury like he had previously thought.

This wasn’t right. He must have miscalculated.

"Dr. Gaster?" A growly, yet somehow friendly voice asked from behind him. Asgore.

Gaster immediately dispersed his soul, hoping King Asgore hadn't noticed him earlier. He quickly composed himself, then turned to face the king. Asgore seemed relieved, a warm smile on his face.

"Ah, there you are old friend! I had started to get concerned." He placed a paw on the smaller skeletons shoulder, "I'm glad my worries were misplaced."

to be continued

#asgore #undertale #fanfic #gaster #wd gaster #dr gaster #oh yeah #gaster has purple magic #and also technically a purple soul #but only when his magic is affecting it #its a complex headcannon ok #wip #king fluffybuns is here too #so fluffy #so pure

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lolbtsaus · 7 years

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Music (Composer!Yoongi)

Plot: #008: “I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.” + #025: “I’d like it if you stayed.“ with composer!Yoongi

Word Count: 781

A/N: so I’m working on pirate!Yoongi, it should be up within the next few days, I don’t know for sure whether it will be up tomorrow or not but I’ll keep you all updated on it!!! For now, hopefully something else involving Yoongi will suffice, I don’t really have a link for this, you could see this as idol couple!Yoongi (here) bc that was the original intent but I found myself writing more about yoongi and his composing so either just composer!yoongi or idol couple!yoongi will work!!

If anyone understood what a busy schedule was, it was Yoongi. He seemed to always be doing something, planning the next thing or rehearsing said thing. You knew how hard he worked, how much dedication and time went into the things he did, you knew how passionate he was about his work and you were beyond proud of him. And you knew he was proud of you, working just as hard with your own career. With the new ring on your finger that gave you the new title of “fiance,” the two of you had taken some time off to relax and enjoy the sights of Italy together, giving him the chance to gather more writing material while also being able to unwind.

“I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.”

It wasn’t rare for the two of you to bicker, all in playful sarcasm. One of your favorite things about him was his humor and his wit so it was only fitting that he would enjoy bantering about things that neither of you took seriously. You weren’t offended by his words, you knew he was joking and trying to get you to smile, trying to get you to bicker with him to help lighten the mood. He had to go back out to the studio to finish up the song he was working on, only coming home to eat and give you a kiss goodnight.

“Well maybe if someone wasn’t so late, they could help me make dinner.” you teased back, your arms wrapping around him as he tied his shoelaces.

“I know, I’ll come home early tomorrow.”

“And you’ll stay home?”

“I don’t know, depends on how far we get tonight. It’s so close to being done.”

“I’d like it if you stayed.” you admitted, letting your chin drop onto his shoulder. “A lot.”

“I’ll bring it home, how about that? I can load it up onto my laptop and maybe you can watch a movie while I work on it?”

It wasn’t a bad compromise at all. It was familiar to you, having spent countless nights curled into his side while he clicked away at his computer, your favorite shows playing on the television. He would press soft kisses to your forehead every now and then, his arm slung around your shoulders to keep you close to him. He would occasionally play the song for you, to get your opinion. He knew he could trust you to be honest with him, to point out any mistakes and suggest replacements.

It was always a fascinating process to you, watching him create music. Whether he was working alone or working with a team, working with one of the boys, your attention always remained on how he looked when he was focused. His brow would furrow slightly, sometimes deepening when he was trying to figure out where to go next. His fingers would move almost seamlessly, scribbling lyrics onto a page or creating a beautiful melody right in front of you. It had become one of your favorite spots, the couch in his studio. You would make yourself at home, normally showing up in your pajamas or at least something comfortable. Sometimes you would handle your skincare, sometimes you would get out your laptop and relax, sometimes you would nap. But sometimes you would sit next to him and watch him create a song that would take your breath away.

No matter where he was, whether you were held tight in his arms or were falling asleep on his couch, his music always lulled you to sleep. Hearing his calming voice talk to you about the creation process, his frustrations and how he was overcoming them, it made you feel closer to him. Music creating was an intimate process for him, you knew he poured his everything into it and that he took it seriously. You knew he loved it, he loved being able to express himself with his music, putting all of his passion into a project. And you knew that he loved it when you came to his studio or laid next to him while he worked.

“Why do you like watching me do this so much? It’s not that exciting, it’s just a bunch of clicking.”

“I like watching you do what you love. It reminds me of how lucky I am to be able to see this part of you.”

“Let’s not get cheesy now, you’ll make me cry.” he joked, his gummy smile lighting his face up at your words.

“Then maybe I just like staring at your back.”

“I’m not fully sure which one of those is better.”

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negans-network · 7 years

Text

Pull My Hair Part 3 - Step Into My Parlor

Summary: For @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash and her 2nd Negan Writing Challenge, this is for the hair-pulling kink prompt introducing OFC Susan.

Word Count: 5097 (Sorry, I got carried away)

Warnings: Foul language, Sexual References, Language, Imagery and Smut

Author: @genevievedarcygranger

Susan had deemed it prudent to take a nap while Negan was gone, that way she would be well rested enough for round two by the time Negan were to come back. What she hadn’t expected was to sleep through the night until the next morning in Negan’s bed, not even waking when he came back and then left again in the morning. He had thoroughly worn her out last night with that too-good orgasm. When she woke up alone, she was mildly embarrassed, but also chalked it up to catching up on the too few hours of sleep she had out on the word. On Negan’s bedside table, he left her a new bra, her panties, and the little black dress – and a plate of pancakes and eggs, which she devoured. Susan smiled at his thoughtfulness, happy that he kept his word and remembered to bring her a new bra. Hopefully, this one would fit her right.

And fit her, it did. Susan was pleased and felt very sexy, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Making up Negan’s bed, Susan found that she had missed this mundane chore from her old life. Wandering to the bathroom, she looked for a hairbrush but only found the comb that Negan used for his own hair. It was greasy with product, and Susan remembered how his hair felt in her grip and curled her toes at the thought. A knock at the bedroom door started her out of her thoughts, and she hurried to answer it, knowing it probably wasn’t Negan anyway since why would he bother knocking on his own door.

She was right, it wasn’t Negan. It was a brunette in a black dress: another wife, she supposed. “Hello Susan, I’m Sherry.” The two women stared at each other, comparing each other obviously, and Susan felt woefully inadequate. Sherry was taller, thinner, skin fairer. Susan felt like a mess. After a moment, Sherry continued, “Negan asked me to introduce you to the others.” There a pause, and nothing but silence. Sherry sighed.

Briefly, Sherry stepped into the room, invading Susan’s personal space. Susan had to strain her ears to listen to Sherry’s lowered voice as she whispered, “Look for your sake, I’m hoping you did this for protection, not out of selfish desires, because now that you’re a wife you can never leave. Ever. Don’t even try. He will find you, and it will not be pretty.” Sherry stepped out of the room, walking away. “Please follow me to the parlor,” Sherry called back over her shoulder.

Head-spinning, Susan had little choice but to follow, padding on bare feet after her. Sherry’s steps were more confident with the click-clack of high-heeled stilettos, and Susan found that she didn’t like Sherry. There was just something about her that decidedly irked Susan. Even the way she said parlor – who even used the word parlor – deeply bothered Susan. It was like that old nursery rhyme.

“‘Will you walk into my parlour?’ said the Spider to the Fly.”

Why would Sherry tell her those things? Why was she so unhappy? Was it because she was jealous that there was another wife taking up Negan’s time? What was her deal? Why did she had such a chip on her shoulder? Did she suspect that she was planning to leave? Was it that obvious?

Once they reached the parlor, Susan felt like she was dipped in ice as soon as she stepped in. There were four other women and all of them were definitely more beautiful than she was. Susan was starting to suspect that it was her ballsy nature that earned her the position as wife. There were three other white women, besides Sherry, and one black woman who remained aloof, flipping through her book and generally not paying Susan any mind. Susan appreciated that. After all, she wasn’t here to make friends. The three other women, though, openly stared at her.

Sherry announced her, “This is Susan.” Sherry gestured to the other wives as she introduced them. “Susan this is Amber,” she pointed to the blonde and youngest-looking woman “Frankie,” she pointed at the bottle red-head, “Tanya,” she pointed at the last white woman, “and Michaela,” she pointed at the black woman.

Frankie, Tanya, and Amber were all sitting on one fancy couch together, drinking wine and dining on fresh fruit. “Why don’t you go and join them, Susan?” Sherry suggested, a bored look on her face.

“Well, where are you going Sherry?”

Sherry’s look was frosty, mean. “I’m going to go get a smoke.” With that, she left, and Susan was glad that she was gone.

A little shy, Susan walked over to the three women, unsure of herself. At her approach, Amber looked up and looked smug. She finished off the rest of her wine, and left soon after Sherry, waving goodbye to the two other women. Wondering if it was something she did, Susan looked over at the two remaining women for answers. “Don’t mind, Amber, she’d just going to get a snack,” Tanya assured Susan. For a moment, Susan was reassured, but then Tanya and Frankie looked at each other and snickered, and Susan was back to square one.

“Well, aren’t you going to sit down?” Frankie asked her. She patted the space that Amber had just vacated. “Sip some wine and talk to us. We’re bored.”

Susan now remembered one of the benefits of being alone; that is, she wouldn’t have to deal with catty group dynamics like this. Still, she did as Frankie suggested, and reminded herself not to make lasting friendships, though that didn’t seem like it would be a problem.

“So, tell us about yourself. There’s hardly anything new to talk about.”

Susan glanced between the two women and decided that drinking was going to be a must when she was with them. “Well, there’s nothing to tell. I lived a normal life like everyone else before the Dead rose. I was an advocate for protecting the environment. Since the end, I’ve kinda been on my own, surviving. Now I’m here and this is nice.” Susan shrugged.

Neither woman seemed to care that Susan’s life story was so lacking. They both just took dainty sips of their wine and followed it up with popping grapes and strawberries in their mouths. “I was a licensed massage therapist,” Frankie continued proudly, tossing her hair. Susan couldn’t help but notice that the color obviously wasn’t natural, and she wondered if it was a special request to find her particular hair-dye.

“Hey, I bet Negan likes that,” Susan commented and used Amber’s abandoned glass to pour herself some wine. “Your license isn’t going to expire anytime soon since you’re putting it to good use.”

Frankie laughed, though her eyes betrayed how she really felt, which was a little shocked. “Yeah, you’re right. Negan loves it. You know, it kinda makes me wonder, though, why he would want you.” From where she sat, Susan stilled, and then grabbed a bundle of grapes for herself to eat and to busy her hands. “You wanna know why I became a wife? Well, it was originally just me and Tanya. We were the first two. We couldn’t stand each other and we were constantly fighting for Negan’s attention until he finally decided to have us both. He gave us the terms and conditions, and we said why not share him so long as there were two of us.”

“But then,” Frankie interrupted, “He brought Michaela home to the parlor. We had known Michaela, she was one of us here in the Sanctuary. In exchange for being a wife, she gets treated like a queen and no longer has to work for points. Once he brought her home, he broadcasted job openings to all the other women here. Amber joined us so that she would be able to take care of her mother comfortably.”

“When her mother died, though,” Tanya picked the story back up, “Amber didn’t stop being a wife. She loves to live in the lap of luxury. She likes being spoiled like a princess. She hated living on the point system. Even with Mark – ”

“She doesn’t have to know about Mark,” Frankie butted in again, shooting Tanya a dirty look.

Susan blinked rapidly, trying to process everything. “Okay, what about Sherry?”

“Sherry?” Tanya giggled, and Susan wondered if both girls had imbibed enough wine to get tipsy. “Well, she’s different. She’s here because she loves Dwight, not because she loves Negan.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t love Negan like we do,” Frankie spat and then shot her dirty look at Susan pointedly.

“I’m sorry,” Susan found herself apologizing under Frankie’s unfriendly glare. “I don’t understand, though.” Faintly, Susan remembered hearing about Dwight getting his dick bit. She wondered if this had anything to do with Sherry’s earlier behavior, too.

“Dwight and Sherry ran away. Negan got upset with them for stealing. They came back and begged for forgiveness, but Negan was gonna kill them.” Tanya freely shared the gossip, explaining everything away. “You know, he has to make an example of thieves. To save their lives, Sherry offered her hand in marriage, and Negan saw that she was pretty enough and said yes.”

“But not until he has burned Dwight’s face, permanently marking him in shame and dishonor.” Frankie said the words as if there were performed in a speech, and Susan didn’t doubt it.

Sitting back in her chair, Susan took a larger gulp of her wine, trying to process everything. She knew this community had to be a little screwy since it was under Negan’s management – and Negan had multiple wives and didn’t seem like a Mormon. But this took it to a whole new level. Just another reason for her to leave, though, now she had to be doubly sure to never be caught. But love Negan as a wife? He is a great fuck, but she doubted she ever would fall for him. Still, she could pretend well enough and that should suffice.

“Ladies,” Negan greeted them as he stepped over the threshold and into the parlor. Susan sat up straighter for him, feeling like shit next to the other girls. Michaela seemingly ignored Negan, but Frankie and Tanya immediately simpered their hellos at him.

Walking over to where the three women sat, Negan smiled at them all, though his eyes lingered last on Susan. “Frankie, Tanya, how are my #1 and #2 girls?”

“Much better now that you’re here, Negan,” Tanya batted her eye lashes at him, and Frankie twirled her red hair around her finger. “Are you in the mood for a massage, baby? Or just some company?”

“You know, I am in the mood for some quality time, but that will be with #6 here if she’s agreeable to it.” Negan winked at her. “But where is #4 and #5?”

“Sherry stepped out to smoke,” Susan answered him, and she saw his eyes darken. Frankie and Tanya shook their heads, burrowing their noses in their wine glasses to hide their giggles. “Oh, did I just get her in trouble?”

“No, not exactly, Susan.” Negan’s voice was soft. It was a nice change in pace to have a wife that didn’t try and deliberately sabotaged the others. “I don’t approve of smoking. Makes you taste like shit and I don’t like it. Besides, if she goes and develops lung cancer, we don’t have the medicine to treat her, now fucking do we? But she can fucking smoke if she wants to, I just won’t fuck her.” Susan formed the connection in her mind then on just why Sherry smoked. “What about Amber, Susan? Did you see where she went?”

“Um,” Susan’s eyes sidled towards her compatriots, but they avoided looking at her. She knew that dropping Mark’s name meant nothing good, so she went with what they told her. “She went to go get food?”

Negan hummed, seeming to approve. “Well, would you like to get out of here then and go fuck the shit out of each other?”

This time Susan didn’t bother to hide the fact that she glanced at the other wives. Similarly, they ignored her, and she took note that Frankie’s fist was squeezing the wine glass so tightly that her knuckles were white. “Okay, Negan, let me ride you then.” She looked up at Negan just in time to catch his proud grin before he took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. He practically dragged her out of the parlor after that in his eagerness, and Susan didn’t bother waving goodbye to the other women. They weren’t her friends, so why should she care?

On their way back to Negan’s bedroom, they didn’t meet anyone, and Susan tried to pay attention to the route so she wouldn’t get lost. If she was going to leave, she needed to know her way around. Negan looked over his shoulder at her and Susan guiltily started. He only smiled at her, though, and she immediately calmed, though her heart did beat faster for much different and altogether more pleasant reasons. “Remind me to get you a pair of heels,” was the only thing he said. Then he dragged her inside his bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them.

Alone at last and again, Susan wasted no time in slipping her panties off and kicking them across the room. They landed somewhere on the couch, but she didn’t care. She immediately moved in to get another kiss from Negan, though she had to restrain herself from digging her fingers into either his beard or hair again or she would never stop tugging and yanking so needy-like. Instead, her demanding fingers unzipped his jacket, and she shucked it off his arms in one fluid movement. Negan was laughing into the kiss, the chuckles more like sharp breaths from his nose as he continued to kiss her, allowing her to undress him.

She did continue to undress him since she didn’t get to see him bare last night. Her hands yanked his shirt free from his pants and she skipped his shirt in favor for his belt immediately. Unbuckling him blindly made her fumble a bit, but soon she heard the satisfying hiss of his belt sliding out of the pants’ beltloops. She popped the button free, and unzipped his pants, part of her tempted to go ahead and reach in and feel what she would be working with. But part of her wanted to be surprised, so instead she pushed his pants down as far as she could without breaking the kiss. Negan obediently kicked his pants the rest of the way off.

Pleased that he was letting her do this, Susan continued to push her luck. She gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged, impatiently. For once, she broke their shared kiss, ordering him, “Lift up.” Negan snorted, but did as she said, and Susan pulled his shirt up, exposing his flesh from stomach to chest. Halfway through taking off his shirt though, she got distracted by his alluring happy trail. More importantly though, she had to stop halfway through because she lacked the height to complete the movement and get the shirt up over his head. “A little help please,” she bashfully asked this time, and Negan shot her a knowing look before he grabbed the collar of his shirt at the base of this neck and pulled the shirt off over his head.

“Remember how I told you to remind me about the heels? Well, make sure I also get you really fucking tall heels,” Negan joked, standing shirtless before her. Susan ignored his teasing in favor for examining him. She was right to think that he was slim, and though he didn’t ripple with muscles, she liked how deceivingly strong he was. He could lift her effortlessly after all. For another, though, seeing him so slim she realized that he was a wiry kind of muscle, lacking clear cut definition. That didn’t bother her, though. In fact, what she liked best was the generous sprinkling of chest hair over his pecs, swirling temptingly around his nipples she’d love to kiss, before forming a strip of hair that pointed straight to the prize that was his blooming erection hidden in his boxers. She hummed appreciatively, but she did have one concern. Back in the parlor, she had been showing off the other wives as she promised to ride him, but now she was scared. Negan was such a slim guy, and she was more than a little worried of crushing him.

“As much as I love being admired for the fucking magnificent fucker I am, I think you’re a little fucking overdressed for this occasion.” Negan stepped forward, and – in a movement that was quickly becoming customary between the two of them – tugged her hair to tilt her head back for eye contact.

Catching his eye, Susan bit her lip, still mulling over if he was going to make her keep her promise for a ride. So far, he had kept his promises to her, so it would be unfair for her to do otherwise. “Well, unzip me then.” She turned her back to him to show him the zipper, and she moaned and melted when he took her hair and swept it out of the way so he could reach the zipper. Negan had such a way about him, the way he twisted his wrist so that her hair was wrapped around his hand, and the tug so sensuous for being just enough pressure – well, Susan was glad that she had went ahead and tossed her panties away since surely, they would be soaked by now.

When he had unzipped her enough, the black dress loosened from its form-fitting mold around her body and slipped off like shedding a second skin. Unrestricted, Susan lifted her arms back to unhook her new bra, but Negan gently pushed her hands away. “I take it this fucking bra gets the job done then?” He snapped one of the straps before he fluidly unhooked it.

Pulling the bra off and tossing it in the same general direction as her panties, Susan answered him, “Yes, thank you for getting me another one, Negan.” She carefully stepped out of her dress, turning back around to face him. Since this was the second time he had seen her naked, she was a little more confident now.

“Well, you’re fucking welcome, Susan.” Negan used his grip on Susan’s hair to pull her closer to him, and he embraced her, going again for another kiss. Susan briefly wondered how she could stand here and kiss a man who was going to kill Sherry and her husband – who burned Sherry’s husband’s face. But then she remembered everything she has done, and was bitterly reminded that she was no saint. Pushing that unpleasantness aside, Susan instead decided to focus on how sweet Negan could be with her, so caring and generous. Sure, he wasn’t a Prince Charming, but this was as good as it gets at the end of the world. And it was good enough for Susan since she knew there would be no love.

Breaking their kiss again – one of Susan’s new least favorite of Negan’s new fasted growing habits with her – Negan trailed his lips down her neck, finally going to leave hickies. Again, he used the grip he had on her hair to pull her head to one side, providing easy access to her neck where he could reach this one sensitive spot just behind and below her ear. Moaning wantonly in his ear, Susan’s hands finally came up and gripped his hair, stroking through it and petting him softly rather than yanking. Her passion levels weren’t quite at the yanking stage yet. “Mm, now who’s wearing too many clothes?” She reminded him about his boxers.

Straightening up, lips leaving her neck from where he had laved deliciously wet kisses, Negan pulled away just far enough to look in Susan’s eyes. Mischievously, he tugged a little on her hair, and Susan moaned immediately, pupils dilating wide. “You’re fucking right, Susan, though, I seem to fucking remember that you made me a fucking promise. You promised you would fucking ride me, huh? So, we gonna fuck each other’s brain out or what?”

Nervously, Susan gulped, searching Negan’s eyes to see how serious he was. “Okay, Negan, go sit down and take your boxers off then.” For courage, she stole a quick kiss before bossily pushing against his chest in the direction of the couch. Looks like they would break the bed in another day it seemed.

Susan was more than a little envious of Negan as she watched his stumble back to the couch to take a seat. Despite his lankiness and long limbs, he still managed to make falling back into the couch look elegant and sexy. Eagerly, she watched as Negan hooked his fingers around his boxers and shoved them down his legs without preamble, kicking them aside without a care.

As soon as his member was freed, Susan’s eyes were glued to it. Zeroing in on his erection, she stepped closer for a better examination. Though Negan himself was slim, his erection was decidedly thick, thicker than she expected from someone like him. It was long, in proportion to the rest of him, and if she could give an approximate measure, she’d say that he was about ten or so inches. Without thinking, she grabbed the erection, taking note of how she was only able to enclose her fingers around it because she had as her mother dubbed ‘piano fingers.’ Experimentally, she gave him a few tugs, enjoying how his skin was like velvet and extremely hot. His erection was hard yes, but pliant to her movement as she bent and twisted her wrist, smoothing his beaded precum over the rest of him to make the ride easier. There was one particular vein that throbbed on the underside of his erection from base to head. If she were to taste him, she’d never stop licking that vein – but she would save fellatio for another day.

“Damn it, Susan,” Negan impatiently groaned, watching her play with and pleasure him equally, “are you gonna fucking ride me to hell or not?”

Startled out of her thoughts, Susan blinked up at him before she remembered herself. “Sorry, it’s just been a while since I’ve seen such a pretty cock,” she honestly admitted to him. She gave him a rueful sort of smile, still apologetic, though her hand didn’t stop tugging on his member. Susan yanked cock as well as she yanked hair it seemed.

Now Negan had heard his dick be referred to in many ways. It was hard, it was big, it was too big, it was salty – pretty standard stuff. But pretty? That was new. Was he necessarily opposed to the compliment? No, but in his mind, he didn’t think that cocks could ever be called pretty. But he just found another reason he liked Susan. He took ahold of her by the waist, urging her to clamber onto his lap. “Come on and ride my huge fucking pretty dick, then, Susan. I know you want to. Shit, don’t I fucking want you to.”

Thrown a little off-balance by Negan’s urging, Susan clumsily straggled his lap, nearly knocking her head against his. Well, not exactly nearly – she did bump her chin against his forehead and he hissed. It didn’t hurt her as much, but in apology she kissed the spot. Carefully, she balanced herself on him, one hand gripping the back of the couch while the other hand held his cock steady as she rubbed herself up and down him, liberally spreading her juices over him so he would slide in so much easier. Panting, Susan momentarily forgot just why she was rubbing him as she instead deliberately humped her engorged clit against the head of his dick, seeking her pleasure.

Beneath her, Negan groaned and writhed, thrusting his hips up into her hand and beating his dick against the sensitive outside of her pussy. “Come the fuck on, Susan, lemme get inside of your pussy.” One of his arms wrapped around her back, pulling her down and closer, and one hand buried itself in her hair at the back of her skull, fisting the brown tendrils and pulling until her head was tilted all the way back, preventing any more possible concussions between the two of them.

Finally, Susan quit her teasing and sunk down onto him impossibly slow so that she would have time to adjust. Immediately, her hand shifted to his hair, and she twisted it in her fingers, giving as good as she got. For every time he yanked her hair, she would yank back and fuck him harder as she bounced on his lap. His grip on her hair made her a slave to his touch. So long as he kept pulling, she would do whatever he wanted, and with every tug she bounced on him, and moaned louder.

Of course, Negan loved this as much as Susan did, and quickly set a fast-paced rhythm for her to follow. Yanking her head back, she was entirely exposed from throat to chest, and Negan took his freehand and formed it to one of her breasts. “Finally, I get to fucking touch and suck these glorious fucking tits.” He swiped his thumb over her nipple and slammed up into her at the same time, loving the combination of hot pussy on his dick, soft tit in his hand, and silky hair wrapped around his fingers. “I can’t wait until I get to ping-pong my dick over your titties, Susan.” He yanked one breast to his mouth and laved the nipple, sucking hard as he maintained the staccato rhythm of his hips and yanking her hair with his other hand.

Meanwhile, Susan moaned, tears developing in her eyes as the tugging at both her breast and hair brought delicious pain. Her neglected breast ached for his attention, needy and wanton, but her pussy was being filled and stroking that one spot so right that it was a paradox of feelings. It felt so fucking good to be fucked, but there was a sting developing inside where Negan was bottoming out against her cervix. She loved it all, though. Every time she slid down his cock, her clit slammed into his pubic bone, his pubic hair an added rough texture that was like striking a match to get it to burn. There was this fire building, and she was almost there, but not just yet. Almost, almost.

After torturing one breast long enough, Negan switched to the other managing to keep his grip through his teeth as he cruelly tugged on it, Susan not helping due to the force of her bouncing. He snaked his hand back down to her rear and gripped her hip, fingers pressing hard into her ass cheek to leave bruises as he made her move even faster and harder. He steadily pulled on her hair, not relaxing, and it felt like she was tearing his own hair out by the root – but he enjoyed it nevertheless because he knew he was doing this right and encouraged to do more.

Continuing to kiss her bouncing breasts, Negan knew that she was going to develop a burn from his beard, hickies on her neck from his kisses, bruises form his hand, and she’d probably not be able to walk properly. God, did she bath his dick in pussy juices as she was so wet that she gushed, creating a suction. At the back of his mind he wondered where he should put his cum, insider or outside of her? Maybe she would like to swallow him up or wear him proudly on her face? The thought of a facial alone made him even more excited and he planted his feet hard on the floor and pushed up to meet her stroke for stroke. He knew that if he slipped his hand forward and pressed his thumb against her clit while simultaneously yanking hard, she would cum for him beautifully. Lifting his hand to do just that, he impetuously smacked her ass while he yanked her hair again – and Susan immediately coiled around him so tight and orgasmed that Negan nearly did, too, hips stuttering.

Susan’s orgasm surprised her as well, her moan more like a shout of his name. The force of her climax pushed his dick out as she was in mid-stroke upward, and though Negan was left bereft of pussy, he came also by surprise, spraying his seed over her stomach in three or four quick bursts.

Climbing down from her high, Susan sat back on his knees, shaking and quivering from aftershocks. Negan collapses backwards against the couch, releasing his grip on her hair. He threw his head back, sighing, groaning appreciatively. Well, that had never quite happened before – climaxing from being spanked just once. Susan’s hands fell from his body, grabbing at the couch to keep herself study. She didn’t seem quite as surprised as him, just overall satisfied. “Fucking wow, Susan, you are kinky as shit,” Negan informed her when he could speak.

Eyes glassy and sated from her orgasm, Susan collected his cum on her stomach before it could dribble down on him or his couch. “I guess,” she sucked the cum off of her fingers. “You like that, though, don’t you, Negan?”

He laughed and gave her a sleepy sort of smile, cock already stirring at the sight of her licking up his cum. “Of fucking course, Susan. What kinda fucking dumbass question is that? You are hot as shit, kinky as fuck, and you’ve got huge fucking lady nuts like goddamned volleyballs. What’s not to fucking like about you?”

Though she knew it was a rhetorically question, Susan thought of all the stuff she hated about herself, and then shrugged. “Plenty, but I’m glad I please you, Negan.”

Negan chuffed at her, “Nonsense! Fuck me if you’re not fucking perfect, Susan. Tsk, tsk.”

“Well give me two minutes and I will fuck you, Negan.” Susan teased with a half-smile, one of the first she’s given him. Now the tables were turned as Negan admired her smile for once, and as a first, Negan had no smart come back. He could do nothing but smile back at her with all of his teeth and sincerely with his eyes.

#negan #negan's thirst squad #ash's negan writing challenge #NTS #NTS fics #negan fanfics #fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #submission

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