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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

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it was all yellow

request from nonnie!!! “hi love, wanted to throw out this request before camping ;u; only if you're up for it, for either of the twins: i'd love something fluffy inspired by one of my favorite text posts on this site: she guessed my favorite color first try.. but between me and u.. i didnt even have a favorite color until she yelled out yellow! she was hella excited n smiling like a little kid, so i told her she was right and i havent seen yellow the same since, its in everything. i could probably live in it now. 🌻”

pairing: fred x hufflepuff!reader

word count: 3k

A/N: love me a good cheeky fred. also this prompt was FUCKING adorable and i did try to incorporate the actual quote into my writing but some of it didn’t flow.. so i hope it’s still as good as you’d imagined?? also def listened to coldplay’s “yellow” whilst writing this x

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic | message me to be added, loves!

“Mr. Weasley!”

Umbridge’s voice is shrill, and it immediately pulls Fred out of his daydream-like state, but not quickly enough for him to turn his attention toward his professor and avoid making incredibly embarrassing eye contact with you. The entire class, much to his dismay, turns to glance at him -- you included. It’s unlike him to feel so insecure, so embarrassed, but alas -- here he is.

“Yes, Professor?”

“Is there a reason,” Umbridge hisses, the edges of her lips curling into a rather evil smirk, “that you’ve chosen to completely ignore me during the lesson?”

Fred considers this for a moment. He could take this opportunity to explain to his professor that yes, now that you mention is, there is a reason. A huge reason. He could then proceed to tell you about all of the overwhelming feelings that have seemed to take over him the last few weeks. It could be a grand gesture, couldn’t it? Scooping you up into his arms, sliding a hand around the back of your neck, telling you just exactly what keeps him up at night -- that adorable smile of yours, and the pineapple scent in your hair. It’d be all the castle would be able to talk about, wouldn’t it? Plus, to be able to ignore Umbridge even more and do something so utterly abysmal in the middle of her lesson and have the rest of the students cheer him on, well -- it’s something Fred’s always dreamt of.

“I’d love to see the look on Umbridge’s face if I ever chose to cause mayhem in the middle of one of her lessons,”

“Easy there, Freddie. Don’t want to go getting any more detentions, do we?”

“Darling, mischief is my middle name. I need to prank. My life depends on it.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it? Just trying to look out for you, is all.”

“You’ve really got that Hufflepuff stereotype of ‘loyal’ down -- you know that, right?”

He supposes, when he thinks about it now, that you were right. You’re always right. He reckons it wouldn’t be such a good thing to cause such an uproar, especially since Umbridge is nearly always on his tail, and is one step closer to knocking Dumbledore out of his post as Headmaster. Fred doesn’t want to give her any more of an edge, does he?

Next to him, George brings Fred back, yet again, from another daydream with a quick kick to his knee. He grips the desk tightly and hopes that his face isn’t flushing bright red. Umbridge’s smirk grows even deeper, and Fred, ignoring his instincts to grab you and run out of the lesson right this instant, merely clears his throat. “No. There isn’t.”

“Good,” Umbridge hisses again, turning her attention back toward the board. “Now, to continue..” Fred relaxes a bit and slumps in his seat, feeling rather grumpy, but his spirits lift almost immediately, and his insides seemingly twist into a tight knot when you send him a soft smile from across the room.

-- -

Fred is shaken awake, only to be face to face with a very cheeky looking George, who then proceeds to throw a notebook straight into Fred’s cheek.

“Oi!” Fred shouts, coming to, bringing his hand to his jaw. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

“You do realize it’s the middle of the day and you’ve fallen asleep directly in the middle of the courtyard, yes?”

Fred kicks the younger twin with his foot, and George and Lee begin to laugh. Fred had been having quite a lovely sleep, thank you very much, and is now annoyed that his brother and friend had chosen to wake him. As he sits up from the bench, adjusting his loose tie and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Lee offers, “You talk a hell of a lot in your sleep, mate.”

Much to his horror, Fred freezes. This whole talking-in-his-sleep thing is relatively new -- he’d never, ever done that before. It seemed to have happened to him a couple of weeks ago, when he began repeating the days’ events -- ones that included you -- over and over in his mind before falling into a peaceful, and rather deep, slumber. It seemed to have happened when he started to look at you in a new light.

“And what exactly was I saying?” Fred asks, trying to shrug off his nervousness.

George and Lee both suppress a laugh and share a cheeky exchange, and Fred feels his heart leap into his throat. “Oh, you know.. mumbling on about lessons, and things. Bits of parchment you need to finish. Normal musings.”

Fred sighs rather dramatically before relaxing again. He hates this whole being-on-edge thing that comes with having a massive, over-the-top crush on you. “Oh,” George continues, his grin only growing larger, “and something about Y/N being the colour of sunshine, or something?”

As Fred’s eyes widen with embarrassment, George and Lee’s laughter only seems to grow louder and it echoes across the courtyard. This grabs your attention from across the way, and you smirk at Fred. You seem to be working on a bit of homework -- you’re leant against a large tree with your bag and robe next to you on the ground. Your hair is pulled back and you’ve got the end of your quill in your mouth, as if you had been pondering something right before you met Fred’s gaze.

“Thank Merlin she wasn’t over here, or you would’ve scared the poor girl away,” Lee says in a mocking sort of voice, which only seems to intensify Fred’s nerves.

Fred can’t help but fall into a bit of laughter with his friends too, even though the mere fact that he’d been talking in his sleep, about you, in the middle of the courtyard, makes his entire body hurt. ‘Thank Merlin’ is right.

-- -

The colour of sunshine. Ugh. How could he have been so painfully cheesy? Fred thinks about this all day long -- through every lesson, through every stroll down the corridors, through every bite of the evening feast. He can’t simply believe he’s said this out loud, even though it’s true. The truest words that have ever come out of his mouth, even. You are the colour of sunshine.

Simply bright and beamingly so -- the most beautiful of yellows.

You, he reckons, are pure warmth -- enough to soothe him on even the coldest of days.

“You know,” your voice, now closer than it seems, makes Fred jump and snap out of his own thoughts, much to George’s amusement, “this whole not-being-able-to-eat-with-your-mates-from-other-houses thing is simply stupid.”

“Why don’t you go and give Umbridge a piece of your mind, eh?” George asks you.

Your grin deepens, but you shake your head and begin to shovel dessert onto your plate. “It’s her own fault if she doesn’t notice a Hufflepuff amongst a group of Gryffindors. She’s supposed to be the Hogwarts High Inquisitor,” you say a bit stuffily, as if to imitate the woman in question, “is she not?”

“Brilliant,” Fred replies as he finds his voice. “An uncanny impersonation.”

You flip your hair over your shoulder and Fred notices a dimple appear on your cheek. He finds himself lost in your eyes as you peer at him softly over the top of your teacup, which you’ve brought slowly to your lips.

Fred’s happy to hear when you bring his all time favorite thing about the magical world into conversation and does his very best to hide his ever-obvious feelings. “Rumor has it McGonagall and Dumbledore have been pleading with Umbridge to let Gryffindor play Quidditch this year,” you tell the twins.

They peer at you with confusion. “What?” they ask together. Fred continues, “Why? What’s she going to do -- ban all teams except Slytherin? Then they’ve got nobody to verse,” he lets a laugh escape his lips.

George huffs a bit before sipping his tea. “She’s such a bloody idiot. No, I will say it louder, Ron,” George shoots his younger brother a look as Ron closes in on himself a bit, “she’s a power-hungry, egotistical toad who has no business running a bloody school.”

“The truest statement,” you point at him and then bite into your cauldron cake, “but no worry -- she’s apparently agreed to the whole Quidditch thing. Now you two’ve just got to smack the bludgers straight at Crabbe and Goyle’s heads. They’re certainly large enough -- should be easy targets.”

Fred cannot help the enormous laugh that escapes him due to your joke; in fact, he’s sort of surprised it’s only gotten the attention of half of the Great Hall, because it seems to have echoed throughout the entirety of the large room, reverberating off of the walls. Unfortunately, though, Umbridge notices and makes a beeline right toward the Gryffindor table. You turn to Fred and George, shrug your shoulders a bit and proceed to roll your eyes at the very pompous “hem-hem” that is too disturbingly sweet and high-pitched in your ears. “Miss Y/L/N,” she says in her most mocking tone of voice, “please correct me if I am mistaken but I’ve assumed by the yellow color on your robes that you are a Hufflepuff and not, in fact, a Gryffindor, as you’ve so decidedly claimed yourself.”

You turn toward her, a very large grin painted across your face, and simply reply, “No need for corrections here, ma’am.”

“Good,” Umbridge says curtly before turning on her heel. “Best return to your house table, then, before we slip you lot into detention, yes? I do hope it was worth the embarrassment, Miss.”

Embarrassment? Please. You stand up from your seat and chug the rest of your tea and pop the rest of your cauldron cake back into your mouth. You lean against the table, reaching across to the other end to grab yourself another pastry, and get as close to Fred as you possibly can. He notices a bit of a twinkle in your eye, something that’s suddenly driving him absolutely mad, when you say to him and only him, “Definitely worth it.”

A very cozy feeling sweeps itself through Fred’s bones.

-- -

The Gryffindors are lucky to have such two stealthy beaters on their team, because Fred and George know the ins and outs of the castle like nobody else. This comes in handy after a playful, late night match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, when the twins are able to sneak the entire Hufflepuff team, and even a few spectators, into the Gryffindor Common Room.

And as if he isn’t excited enough already at the pure theatrics of this entire thing, Fred finds himself smiling even more so at the sight of you, nestled in a corner with a few others, a Butterbeer clutched tightly in your hands, your cheeks rosy and flushed.

He’s reminded of a few weeks ago when he snuck into the Hufflepuff Common Room with you -- very late at night --

“Don’t you trust me?” you’d asked, taking his hand in yours.

His heart had skipped a few beats, if he was being honest.

“Merlin, it’s bright in here!” Fred had exclaimed when you’d both entered. The inviting colours had swirled around him. “How you people get any work done is beyond me. I’d never be able to focus --”

You’d laughed and shoved him. “Fred, you can’t focus, regardless.”

He’d just shrugged and sat down next to you near the fire. The entire room was empty except for the two of you. “I’ll give you that one. It’s just -- it’s so much different from our common room.”

“Well, it’s bright yellow. Plus, it feeds to all of the ‘Puffs' personalities. What did you expect, silly?”

He’d smiled at you, nestling himself comfortably against the edge of the couch. I haven’t seen yellow the same since, he’d wanted to tell you, especially because of the golden colour of your hair. “Nothing more, nothing less. Besides, I’ve got to say -- I’m rather fond of it, actually.”

His heart had nearly constricted at the feeling of you placing your head onto his shoulder. He’d been happy you couldn’t see the shock rising on his face in that of a crimson red colour, since you’d been so focused on staring into the flames. He’d suddenly felt warm -- incredibly warm. He’d willed himself to believe it was the fire, and not the feeling of your soft hair brushing against his neck. “Oh yeah? Yellow your favourite colour, and all?”

I could get lost in it, actually. Fred had to force himself to swallow over his own nerves a few times before he’d been able to say, “You could say that.”

Now, in the Gryffindor Common Room, he darts past a very confused looking Neville and plops himself down next to you, completely ignoring the fact that he’s interrupting your conversation with the others. “Hey,”

“Well hi,” you say, turning your attention toward him. He can smell the pineapple scent of your shampoo and is nearly sent into a dizzying overdrive, but he does his best to focus on the feeling of the cold glass in his fingers. “Great match.”

“Even if we did beat you guys?”

“Yeah,” you reply tersely, “Hufflepuff’s saving their strength for your actual match so they can kick your arses.”

Fred laughs haughtily and scoots a little closer to you on the steps as the others around you both disperse and head off in their respective directions. He can hear the steady pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears and decides to take a leap of faith. “Maybe. Although I will say -- you’ve got to be more careful with your leering, love.”

“Meaning?”

“Pretty sure you didn’t take your eyes off of me the entire time. You were full-on staring.”

Fred notices the pink on your cheeks seemingly deepen a bit, but you don’t let on to any embarrassment. He grins at you. “Perhaps I was. And if you’ve noticed, it means you were watching me back,”

His smile only grows at your mock voice. He replies with the same tone, “Perhaps I was.”

“You can’t do that during an actual match though, sir,” you tell him, bringing your goblet to your lips and sipping significantly, “otherwise you’re going to be distracted and I reckon you’ll be hit with a bludger, don’t you?”

Fred twirls his goblet in his hands, desperately trying to read your face and your tone. He’s having a hard time deciphering. “You do make a good point.”

“Besides,” you continue, a small smirk making the edges of your lips curl, “we can’t have you getting distracted. Although, I understand how difficult it can be -- considering I’m the colour of sunshine, and all.”

It takes a moment and a laugh before Fred’s registered what you’ve said, and you glance back down at your goblet, giggling into it a bit, and he shakes his head before turning to look at George and Lee, who seemingly have been watching you two this entire time, because they immediately glance away and immerse themselves in conversation with others around them.

“And we know how brilliantly blinding sunshine can be, don’t we, Fred?”

Someone’s playing very loud music and Fred wonders how Umbridge hasn’t caught you all yet. Or perhaps, he thinks, maybe the booming just sounds louder in his own ears.

“Almost as blinding as love, d’you reckon?”

Fred feels that warm, homely feeling take him over yet again -- but this time, he knows it’s not from the butterbeer, or the raging fire. He doesn’t even try to pretend. It’s all from you.

“Yeah, yeah -- tease all you want,” he says as confidence engulfs him. He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

You place your goblet down on the step next to you. “I wasn’t teasing,” you say very matter of factly, “so much as I was trying to get you to kiss me, actually.”

He purses his mouth into a very smug smirk and watches as your eyes dart down to his lips, and you bite down on your own. He leans in, the rest of the music and chatter surrounding you both seemingly drowned out by the steady pounding of his own heart, when --

“Oi, Freddie! C’mere, mate!”

Clearly Ron’s incapable of seeing that we’re in the middle of something, Fred wants to tell you. Instead, he pulls away slightly and whispers to you. “Want to sneak up to the Astronomy tower?”

“So late at night? How very scandalous of you.”

“Well it’s why you fancy me in the first place, isn’t it?”

He grabs your hand as you paint a very mischievous look on your face, and is about to stand up before you tug on the collar of his shirt with your free hand, pulling him back to you and pressing your lips to his in an electrified climax.

You try to part, but he pulls you closer to him and slides his hand down your leg. A soft moan emits your lips, and Fred wonders if he’d be able to sneak a Hufflepuff girl up to his own dormitory this evening. “Sorry,” you reply, biting down on your lip again, sending him into a complete tizzy. You whisper cheekily, “Just couldn’t wait.”

He smirks at you, hoping his giddiness isn’t blatantly evident in his exuberance, and pulls you to your feet. “Actually..” you say, playing again with his collar, “instead of the Astronomy tower, how about we head to the Room of Requirement?”

“No? Don’t want to look up at the stars, be all mushy, fall asleep in my arms?”

You actually snort through your laughter, rolling your eyes at him. “Yes, yes, of course I do, you sap. But I reckon we should save that for an actual date. Right now, I’d kind of just like to snog you for a few hours, if you don’t mind.”

He shakes his head at you with admiration. “What has gotten into you?”

Another hair flip from you sends warmth through Fred’s veins. “C’mon, Weasley,” you say, tugging his hand, the yellow fire reflecting in the light of your eyes, “don’t you trust me?”

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins fanfiction #weasley twins fanfic #weasley twins imagine #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #lee jordan

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beautifulterriblequeen · 3 years

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Road Trip

a tdp ficlet

cw/tags: Runaan and Rayla soft time, amputee Runaan, family feels, real assassin talk, role reversal

"Rayla..." Runaan held her gaze for as long as he could stand it, hoping that he'd have the courage to say it to her face, but he couldn't. His eyes sought refuge in the ambling swirls on the nearby door, pale blue on pink. "...I kill people."

His eyes tightened at the inevitable parade of images that flared brightly in his memory. So many last moments. Many of his targets were caught unawares, as he intended. But not all. Some died in rage, some in terror. But they still died.

Rayla's brows bent at his barefaced admission, so unlike the gentle euphemisms he'd trained her with all her life. "Runaan..." she began, in the hesitant tone one used for injured animals who had tucked themselves up in a den out of fear.

His eyes dropped to his fist, clenched tightly atop the blanket tucked over his legs. His missing arm tried to clench its fist, too. Runaan wasn't sure how to feel about its absence yet, but he'd already begun feeling guilty for not knowing how to feel.

Rayla's tone was exactly what he needed. And he felt guilty for that, too.

"My hands have seen so much..." he began, but his voice faltered when he could only show her one hand, open palm up. His eyes kept searching for the other one. It had been there just a couple of days ago. How could he make his point to her without it? His eyes sought hers again, in apology for his imperfect lesson. "I'm... sorry..."

"No, don't you start apologizing to me," Rayla said firmly. She took his remaining hand in hers and held his gaze.

"I tried to protect you," he blurted softly, mentally backpedaling from her attempted parenting. He was the adult, not her. Surely he could still hold onto that connection. "Perhaps I should've been more honest, more... truthful..."

Rayla sighed firmly through her nose. "Runaan, don't--"

"It's dark work, Rayla," he said, squeezing her hand hard. He tried to reach for her with his missing hand, too, to steady her, to make her hear him. Instead, his stumpy arm couldn't even stretch as far as her shoulder. Its shortened length caught his eyes again, and he stared, still confounded at this irreversible change to his person. His voice came out bitterer than he intended as he repeated, "It's dark work."

Rayla settled a hand gently atop his left shoulder, keeping her eyes on his. "Make it up to me, then."

His brows bent softly in confusion.

"Don't give me empty words, Runaan. That was never your way. If you truly feel you've hidden too much truth from me, then show it to me. Not the dark truth of the past." Her eyes flickered to his missing arm. "That's over now. Show me your new truth. I still want to trust you. I still want to learn from you. You were my earliest teacher, and, for better or worse, I learn best from you. So..."

Runaan found himself leaning forward. His heart managed a faint thrum of interest. "So...?" he prompted.

"So," Rayla said, offering him a sassy smile and an eyebrow lift she'd copied from him years ago, "show me what you got."

Runaan's mouth opened softly as he stared at her. His feelings pulled at him like twin moons. Relief at being free from his weighty, sacred duty warred with guilt for feeling that way. What kind of Moonshadow assassin was glad to step aside from his duty? But then, what kind of Moonshadow assassin only had one arm and lived to tell the tale? There was no one like him, whose footsteps he might follow in, whose tenets he might make his own. For the first time in his life, Runaan was pathless.

He met Rayla's intent violet eyes and worked up the courage to say, "Rayla... I don't know what I got."

But Rayla only grinned cheekily and gently nudged his good shoulder with a soft fist. "Then have I got a deal for you, Runaan. Maybe it's time that I taught you a thing or two! And I know just the place to start. Tell me, how do you feel about three-limbed wolves who get love and support from a sassy girl who won't take no for an answer?"

Runaan blinked. "I... Am I the wolf?" he asked.

Rayla laughed, and her soft confidence filled the room. "Funny you should make that connection! She lives just down the mountain from here. Her name is Ava, and her human's named Ellis. And I think you'll find that my good friends know a lot about dealing with unexpected changes. What do you say? Road trip?"

Runaan hesitated at the thought of listening to a human for advice, no matter how Rayla-esque she might be. But Rayla called her and the wolf friends... and she had actually proven that she knew a good human when she saw one...

"Or," Rayla continued, eyes twinkling, "if you're not ready for traveling yet, I can just send her a message to come back to the Moonhenge."

"I think I'm--what do you mean, 'back'?" Runaan blurted. "You brought a human to the Moonhenge? Rayla!"

But she only laughed. "Runaan, don't be silly. I'd never do such a thing! No, Ellis is the one who led us most of the way up the mountain."

"My point still--"

"And then Lujanne brought us all the rest of the way on Phoe-Phoe!" Rayla finished teasingly.

A hunted look crossed Runaan's features, and he closed his eyes and sighed. "Moon save me from illusionists," he muttered. "Very well... if you insist, then I will accompany you down the mountain as soon as I'm cleared for travel."

Rayla squeezed his hand encouragingly. "Thank you, Runaan. You won't regret it."

Runaan's expression turned tiredly sarcastic. "I assure you, I am already doing exactly that."

Undeterred, Rayla crowed, "Road trip!"

Runaan could only cling to her hand and smile in mute wonder at the amazing elf Rayla had become. He had taught her many things, but somehow she'd learned even more along the way. Things that, perhaps, he might enjoy learning from her for a change. Finally, he shook his head and smiled, surrendering once again to his fate.

He squeezed her hand again. "Road trip."

#tdp ficlet #rayla #runaan #tdp fanfic #my writing #tdp angst #tw amputation #tw injury #moonfam #tdp

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angelicmichael · 3 years

Note

Hey! What about 12 from the kiss prompts with Hawthorne!michael? If you like?

A/N: Thank you for requesting this 💖 I made it a little long (and added a slutty makeout scene lmao) so I hope you don’t mind! This fic kinda flip flops between fluff and angst also, so fair warning hehe. More thots will be in the tags! Enjoy <3 ALSO Michael is 18+ in this and so is Reader 😇 okay bye

You and Michael haven’t talked in weeks. You knew the new school he’d been attending, Hawthorne, kept him impossibly busy since he was basically considered a child prodigy there. You knew from the letters and messages he used to consistently send you that he was basically treated like some type of god; but it had been a while since you had heard from him at all. You just really fucking missed your boyfriend.

The anxiety of him not being in contact with you for so long seemed to only amplify your feelings of how much you missed him, and it had you worried sick.

At first you blamed him being unresponsive due to him being busy but it got to the point where it started to eat away you - you couldn’t think about anything else. All you thought about was Michael. You trusted him of course but, you knew due to his naturally clingy nature that something serious had to be happening for him to ignore and neglect you for this long.

So.. that led you to where you were now.

The air was cool and damp on your skin as you swiftly moved closer and closer to Hawthorne school. You had lost track of the exact time hours ago, but you knew instinctively it was probably midnight - maybe even past. The world was currently pitch black, the moon set high in the sky was your only source of light - which led you to stumble rather clumsily through the night. Hawthorne was isolated enough but not too isolated, Just far enough away from the city to let some of the stars peak through and shine bright through the evening sky.

You approached the talk, dark building - stealthily slipping inside; praying that no one happened to be awake.. except for Michael.

You knew there was a very good chance of him being asleep, he wasn’t expecting you after all. Fuck; you really weren’t even planning on seeing him until just a couple hours ago. This whole visit was unbelievably last minuete, but you really couldn’t help it. You atleast needed to see him, to know he was okay.

You heard the rumors of what was happening with Michael, who he was supposedly going to take the seven wonders test but you know he wouldn’t hide something that big from you.. right? You even came to terms with what to do if Michael didn’t want to see you; if him ignoring you for two weeks was some pathetic scheme to just break up with you - but you needed to know for sure. You wanted to make sure that you daydreaming about kissing him during the day when you had better things to do was foolish or all for not. You needed to know he was still yours.

The soft colored pallete of the interior of Hawthorne seemed to only agitate your pre existing anxiety. The bare, undesigned walls forced you to focus on what was at stake here - no pretty paintings or pretty colors to take your mind off of things. The bare ness and almost.. sterile.. atomsphere this place gave off almost reminded you of a hospital, which only sent chills down your spine.

You turned a corner, not sure where exactly to turn too - you didn’t think this part through, you’ve never been to Hawthorne before. Michael had talked about it to you plenty of times; boasting about his powers and how everyone treated him here but.. he never gave any details of the layout or where his room is.. there was no need for him too.

You felt your stomach drop once you heard echoey footsteps - immeaditly you whipped your head around, thinking it was someone behind you but.. there was nothing. Just the long empty, bare hallway.

You shook your head, feeling slightly disoriented before taking a couple steps forward - trying to shake this slightly unsettling feeling that seemed to sit in your stomach when your turned around and gasped. Loudly.

Seeing another human in front of you when there previously was no one made adrenaline shoot through your veins - but pure euphoria seemed to immeaditly chase the feeling once you actually registered who it was. The nearly combed blonde hair and the bright blue eyes gave it away; It was Michael.

You couldnt help but notice a gleam in his eye and how the way the corner of his mouth was slightly upturned in a smirk. Could he be happy to see you? However you reflexively took a couple steps back - you couldn’t help but feel that was a mistake when you noticed him wince.

“Michael, I was looking for you-“

“Shh”. Michael responsed, cutting you off.

Your eyebrows furrowed - immeaditly offended that the first thing he did when he hasn’t seen you in weeks is to shush you but he quickly grabbed your hand and led you off.

You stumbled behind him, trusting him as you followed him to god knows where he was dragging you too.

He didn’t take you too far; he quickly pulled you around the corner of the hallway before harshly shoving you into the wall. You gasped again, this time out of pain and embarrassingly a bit of pleasure.

Michael nearly immeaditly pressed his mouth to yours, resulting in a very wet open mouthed kiss. French kissing was rarely your forte, but; you hadn’t seen Michael in weeks so the last thing you were worried about was being gross. You were incredibly happy that he even wanted to see you - let alone makeout with you. You supposed this meant that you two were on good terms atleast.

You felt his hands roughly grip your arms, his nails slightly digging into your skin which should’ve hurt but instead only made you want him even more. His body was pressed tight against yours, leaving your back pressed up against the cool wall. With his arms around you and the way he hungrily kissed you, you almost felt trapped but you knew you were safe with him.

The smell and taste of him drove you wild; your hand went up to his hair, slightly tugging on his tousled blonde locks - not wanting him to stop. Too in bliss to even consider the reality of the situation. How you two were basically eating others face in the hallway of his highly prestigious school.

You barely even noticed when you felt one of his hands leave your arm and travel quickly down your side, gently slipping under your shirt. Just as you felt his hand start to travel up you broke off the kiss, immeaditly having to bite your lip in order to stifle a moan. His hand was only at about your stomach, close to your waist - you supposed it was the skin to skin contact that made you so needy. You missed this.

“Miss me”? You heard Michael say.

The way he seemed to pinpoint exactly what you were thinking was almost creepy at times but you simply blamed it on him knowing you so well.

“Of course I have, Michael”. You replied back quickly.

You felt kind of stunned that he would even question how much you missed him or your feelings for him and this started to send your mind into a state of panic. Were you never affectionate enough? Should you have came to seen Michael sooner instead of waiting two fucking weeks before doing anything but, again, as if he knew what you were thinking- he cut off your nearly manic train of thought by placing his hand on your arm softly; bringing you back to reality. Your gaze met his - and you nearly drowned staring into his cerulean blue eyes.

He didn’t even have to say anything at this point to calm you down; just staring at him and finally being in his presence was enough to make you feel safe and comforted.. almost in a serene state where no bad thoughts could linger in your mind. Even though no words really had to be spoken between you two he chose to speak anyway.

“Hey. Look, I’ve been really busy-“

“-your taking the seven wonders, arent you”? You cut him off.

You knew there was a high possibility of him having to take the test; and you really couldn’t think of what else would be keeping Michael so busy. It was painfully obvious he wasn’t cheating on you now.

You looked at Michael and you couldn’t help but almost laugh at his facial expression. He looked completly shocked; his mouth slightly ajar which quickly turned into a uncomfterable smile as he tried to laugh it off.

“Yeah.. I am actually. I take it tommorow”. He said.

“Tommorow? Are you sure your even ready? How could you not tell me sooner”?! You said, talking quickly.

You knew how your words could sound offensive but you didn’t really care; you were just in pure shock. How could Michael already take the seven wonders? The same test that was notorious for being dangerous and even claiming lives. The fear and anxiety you felt quickly morphed into anger.

You weren’t really sure what you were expecting Michael to do; maybe to storm off or to tell you to fuck off and leave - or something in between but instead he merely approached you. His arms wrapped around your frame and he buried his face into your neck.

You were speechless.

Out of all the reactions you were expecting him to have; it definetly wasn’t this. At first you just stood there; not really knowing what to do so you reluctantly wrapped your arms around him and stroked his back - one of your hands finding and tracing his spine. You felt him lean into your touch ever so slightly, and you couldn’t help but relish in this feeling of him again. His scent filling your nostrils, feeling his body against yours was incredibly comforting but this didn’t change the reality of tommorow. You felt your stomach start to drop again at the thought of what Michael taking the test really meant.

You knew how unlikely and irrational it was to imagine things that weren’t even a reality yet but.. you knew deep down that this could very well be the last time you would ever see Michael. Last time you would see, hold, kiss or even talk to him. You felt your throat start to tighten as you very poorly tried your best to hold back tears. You knew Michael was incredibly gifted when it came to his powers but you couldn’t stop being anxious and thinking about the worst. You know understood why he didn’t tell you this previously or contacted you in the past weeks. You supposed this way his way of saying how he was scared too for tomorrow and you couldn’t really blame him for that.

“Are you okay”? You asked.

You felt him suddenly pull away from you, his hands still lingering on your arms. You were half expecting for there to be tears in his eyes when he pulled away and sure his eyes looked a little wet but if anything.. pulling apart only exposed your state of being - not his.

The tears you were trying so fucking hard to hold in, pathetically spilt and ran hotly down your cheeks. You took in a sharp inhale, your breathing now incredibly uneven and rapid due to crying. The way Michael was holding you by your arms made it impossible for you to hide your tears, so instead you pathetically stared at the ground - too embarrassed to even meet his eyes.

“Darling.. look at me”. Michael instructed. His voice was soft but held a certain authority to it, enough to make you actually listen and look up.

“I’m going to be fine tommorow. There’s no need to be sad or worried, if anything we should be celebrating. I’m going to be the first alpha and by this time tommorow we’ll be celebrating. Okay? I promise”. Michael said, as he enveloped you into a hug.

You immeaditly reprocipricated it, not really wanting to let go because you knew how fucking foolish you sounded. Although, you still knew it was a valid fear and something to still be mindful of that could be a real possiblility. After all, even though he seemed completely confident about tommorow you knew he was scared too.

You were the first to let go of the hug. You knew it was already ridiculously late and that you should be going if you wanted Michael or yourself to get any sleep. You brushed off the couple of tears that still remained on the bottom parts of your cheeks before replying to him.

“I’m sorry I got upset, I didn’t mean to-“

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t see you (y/n), you shouldn’t be apologizing”. He stated.

Michael quickly stepped forward to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“No matter what happens tommorow I promise I’ll see you”. Michael said.

Your chest slightly tightened at those words but you quickly brushed the feeling off and blinked the annoying upcoming tears away.

“Bye Michael. Be careful”. You said before quickly turned around and nearly running while you wiped the tears off of your cheek with your sleeve.

You ran through the hallways of Hawthorne, knowing you would probably get lost in the never ending hallways that all looked identical but soon enough you found the door that led outside. You couldn’t help but feel kind of dissapointed that all that was left was to wait for tommorow for Michael to take the test; and to pray to god you would see him again.

Tags: @mina672 @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @thewarriorprincessxo @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable

#let me know if u wanna be added to the tag list!#I lowkey feel like this is shit but I’m uploading anyway cause fuck insecurity hehe #I hope Michael isn’t ooc 😶 I’ve never written Hawthorne Michael before haha #my fic #my work #michael x reader #Michael Langdon x reader #AHS #apocalypse #AHS apocalypse

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

An Unforeseen Future-Hvitserk Ragnarsson x Reader (Part 5/?)

(GIF credit to @honestsycrets)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Masterlist

Prompts

Tags: @littlemessyjessi @hains-j @cliffdidanelvis @satsuma-livewasp-nightmares @miss-artemis-wild @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @millie67 @absolutelynoregretsonlychoices @the-loud-and-crazy-rabbit-pirate @mysticalfairytales @snowblazeblack @darkwolfpeanutskeleton @thatchampagnebitch @thiahilmarsdottir @mzliterarydreamer @newlifeforus@x-valhalla @jazzycasino @blonddnamedhandz @enchantedbones @severewobblerlightdragon @sad-letter

Summary: Reunited from afar with Bo and the rest of his crew, (Y/N) realises that she can’t rebel against Hvitserk like before. However, she won’t give in to him, she will continue to find the new life she is desperate for, even if it means making an unlikely alliance.

Characters: Hvitserk Ragnarsson x Reader, Bo x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, violence, weapons, threats, arguing

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Walking into the tavern, I saw how busy it was, spotting familiar faces within the crowd. A lot of people stared at me, watching as I sat alone on a table, ironically the only one available being in the centre of the room. A thrall immediately served me a cup of mead, scurrying away as soon as I took it from her. Everyone’s conversations got louder once again, though I could tell that their topic had changed. Peeking over my shoulder, I made eye contact with some of the crew members. I had to speak with them somehow, though I had already seen some of Hvitserk’s guards scattered around the place. Before I could think of a plan, someone sat down opposite me, and I couldn’t believe who it was.

“You dare sit in front of me?” I hissed, my grip tightening around my cup.

Siv looked nervous, but sat up straight and tall. There was faint bruising on the left side of her forehead, as well as her left cheek, and I assumed it was what remained from when I attacked her. It was tempting to lunge over the table and do it all over again.

“Your highness, I-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then...what shall I call you?”

I hesitated.“Actually, keep referring to me like that. It’s better than having my name in your mouth.”

“I am not here to argue with you. I’m here to apologise.”

I scoffed.

“No, really! You know deep down that I have regretted my decision ever since I realised Hvitserk had lied to me.”

“It seems he does that a lot now. Apparently he’s now manipulative.”

“He told me that you two were so desperate for children that you both agreed to look out for someone you could trust to birth them. At first, it had been some fun for us whilst on the raid, and even then I knew it was obviously wrong. But he charmed me, and I was excited to be with a prince.”

“You were stupid.”

“Let me right my wrong doings, I can help you.”

“And if I I let you, how would you do that exactly?”

“I can tell that you’re restricted to who you can talk to here.”

“And how do you know that?”

“You’re sat here alone, whilst the men and women you sailed with are sat in the same tavern. Where’s the happy reunion?”

I squinted my eyes at her.“I don’t trust you.”

She sighed, starting to stand.“Well, if you change your mind...”

“Wait.”

Siv sat back down straight away.

“Prove to me that you can help me.”

“How?”

“Pass on a message for me. Tell Bo that he has to ignore me from now on, leave me alone.”

“Bo? Is that the leader of the ship you were on?”

“Yes. Do you know what he looks like?”

“Yes. I saw the spectacle of him being dragged away from the docks.”

“Good.”

“Can I ask-”

“No.” I downed the rest of my drink, rising from my seat.“One more thing.”

Quickly pulling my fist back, I swung it straight for Siv’s face, pleased with the loud cry that came from her as she fell to the floor. The tavern went quiet again, apart from some men cheering, encourage us to fight each other. I knelt down next to her, whispering in her ear.

“Don’t let me down.”

As I walked away, I noticed two of Hvitserk’s guards follow me outside, and to of Harald’s guards were already waiting on the other side of the door. Glancing between them, I lazily held my hands up in surrender as if they were going to arrest me.

“Go on then, take me to my husband.”

Two of them walked in front whilst the other were behind me. I was being treated like a prisoner, going to meet my captor. I noticed we were moving away from the main part of the town, there were less houses and only one thin path winding up to a cabin, though not as big as Harald’s. One of the guards knocked on the door, hearing Hvitserk call them in before opening the door. Staring at the man as he held the door open, I slowly walked in, keeping eye contact until he felt too uncomfortable and had to look away. Smirking to myself, I waited for Hvitserk, who was sat in a large chair by the fire, to say something. He simply waved his hand, dismissing the guards. Once the door was shut, he started speaking.

“I was worried about you.”

“Were you?” I said, pouring myself a drink.

“I need to speak with you, about that man.”

“Bo?”

His jaw clenched as I mentioned him.“Yes.”

“What about him?”

“You can’t see him anymore.”

“I know.”

“What?”

Although I didn’t want to, I got closer to Hvitserk, standing in front of him, but not too close.“I knew you wouldn’t want me to see him. So, I told him to leave me alone.”

A small smile appeared on his face.“Did you really?”

“Yes. I don’t want anyone hurt, Hvitserk. Do you hear me? No bloodshed will come out of this.”

“I promise.”

As he got out of his chair, stepping towards me, I created more space between us.“Not yet Hvitserk.”

“Can’t I just hold you?”

There was a tiny sign of the old Hvitserk, only for a second. It was sad really, my Hvitserk had been taken over by a jealous, cruel spirited man, he was unrecognisable. His arms were raised, expecting me to fall into them. Crossing my arms over my chest, I shook my head, the realisation of his wicked ways clicking in my head.

"(Y/N), I ask just one small thing of you."

"No Hvitserk. If you think all can be forgiven so quickly, you have grown stupid."

Letting his arms fall back down to his sides, he let out a small chuckle. I could tell he was frustrated, wanting things back to normal but having to deal with how stubborn I was. I stood my ground as he approached me, snatching my hand away as he tried to hold it, but he grabbed my forearms, not even struggling to hold me as I thrashed about.

He shook me.“I don’t understand you!”

My eyes widened.“You don’t understand me?”

“Yes! I love you, I want to be with my wife.” his voice was strong, but I could see the pain behind his eyes.

“You should have thought of that before you brought that whore back with you.”

“She’s gone, Siv means nothing to me now.” his grip loosened.“I realised the mistake I made, isn’t that enough?”

The door creaked open, grabbing our attention as it hit the wall. Standing in the doorway on his crutches was Ivar, an amused look on his face. He spoke as he dragged himself inside.

“I see the happy couple are getting along well.”

Hvitserk finally let go of me, I instinctively rubbed my arms, something he didn’t miss.“You never have been one to knock brother.”

“I have come to see if things are finally settling down between you.”

Hvitserk closed the door.“You could have asked tomorrow.”

“You might have been dead tomorrow.” Ivar stared at me.

“What are you talking about?”

“Has she not told you about her little plot with the sailor?”

Hvitserk’s head whipped around to face me. If I wasn’t scared before, I was beginning to feel the fear now.

“Plot?” Hvitserk reiterated.

“There is no plot!” I defended myself.“I told you, he is leaving me alone now.”

“Was that before or after you sneaked away with him. It looked very cosy between you two.” Ivar smirked, loving the drama he was causing.

“Hvitserk, he is lying to you.”

“Why so defensive?” Hvitserk snapped back.

I was speechless. There was nothing I could say to change his mind. The softness that had appeared was long gone, and I had been counting on that to use to my advantage.

“(Y/N), what exactly did you say to him?”

“I just told him to leave me alone. I did it out of sight because I didn’t want to be seen with him. I knew you would be angry, and I knew you had people watching-”

“I don’t believe you.”

I raised my voice.“What do you think happened then? Do you really think I’m that much of an idiot to do anything with him in public?”

“You’re going to stay in here until he set sail.”

“What? No!”

Ivar was grinning now, enjoying the show. It was extremely tempting to jump over that table and hurt him.

“You’ll be safe here, my men can guard you-”

Instead of arguing back, I sprinted towards the door, only to have Hvitserk grab me. With quick thinking, I stomped on his foot, managing to wriggle out of his arms. Spinning around to face him, I unsheathed my sword, growing worrisome when he did the same.

“I don’t want to hurt you (Y/N).” he breathed out.

“You won’t.”

I swung down my sword in the first attack, knowing he would block it. His attacks were as strong as mine, and we went back and forth, knowing each others movements too well. Luckily for me, I was starting to gain ground, pushing him back towards the fire. He tripped backwards over the chair he was originally sat on. Instead of fighting him further, I turned around to flee, only to also fall flat on my face. Quickly looking behind me, I saw Ivar, who was now gripping onto my leg, somehow sneaking up on me, as if he were a snake. Kicking back, I missed his face, yelling out as he pulled himself higher up my leg, axe in his other hand. Just as I raised my sword, he did so with his axe, a manic look in his eyes until Hvitserk grabbed his wrist, preventing him from hurting me.

“Grab her legs.” he ordered.

I screamed as Hvitserk abandoned his brother, easily missing my swings. He pinned down my arm with the weapon, kneeling on it so that I would release it. I fought against the pain, but had to cave in when it became too much. Sliding it away from us, he produced rope that I hadn’t spotted, tightly bounding my hands together.

“Don’t do this! Don’t tie me up like this!” I shouted.

“I need to know that you’re doing as I say. And if it means keeping you here, then I’ll do it.”

Glancing down at Ivar, who still had a hold of my legs, I spat at him. On instinct, he let go to wipe it away, giving me a chance to kick him in the face again. The pleasing sound of him in pain gave me brief happiness, but it went away when Hvitserk started dragging me along the floor. I made myself a dead weight, not having the desired effect. As we entered the bedroom, he hauled me to my feet, swiftly picking me up bridal style; this used to make me swoon, especially when he would throw me on the bed. Unusually, he laid me down gently, attaching the rope around something above me, something I couldn’t see. There was no use in moving, because I was tied up tightly.

“Hvitserk, please, this is the only thing I’ll ask of you, the last thing.” I pleaded.

He slowly turned away, and as he left, I heard him call out to his brother,“Ivar, come on. I need to track down this sailor.”

#Hvitserk Ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson imagine #hvitserk ragnarsson imagines #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson one shot #hvitserk #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk imagines #hvitserk one shot #hvitserk x reader #vikings #vikings imagine #vikings imagines #vikings one shot #vikings x reader #vikings fanfic #vikings fan fic #vikings fanfiction #vikings fan fiction

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khoicesbyk · 3 years

Text

The Royal Romance.

Second Chance Romance.

A/N: I’ve decided to go into my own little TRR/TRH world and create an AU. This will be fun! So; Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Dawkins (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and certain original characters, created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 1,300 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Woo! Another Drabble from me! I’m starting to get good at this!

Prompt Time! Using @wackydrabbles Prompt #69 (hehehehe) I won’t forget this. It’ll be in bold in black.

Tag List: @txemrn @pixie88 @lifeaskim @hopelessromanticmonie @lucy-268 @choicesficwriterscreations @wackydrabbles @secretaryunpaid @shanzay44 @bebepac @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @glaimtruelovealways

As always if you’d like to be added to my tag list, just reblog or send me a DM and I will happily add you. 😁😘

I AM UNAPOLOGETICALLY NSFW! READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED!

Chapter 7.) Shattered Glass.

His majesty had been caught in a very precarious position. One he had no knowledge or realization that he was in at the time. All thanks to his very charged encounter with his ex Tanya.

What was meant to be innocent and comforting, could be seen as him falling back in with her and out of love with Shanelle. Or that’s how Damon was about to spin it to her. He was determined to stick to Marquise.

After securing the final travel plans, Damon was on his way to talk to Shanelle and hit her with a hard truth. He found her in her room going over her luggage. He knew this would hurt Shanelle. Which is exactly what he wanted.

“5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 and 12. Yup that’s all of them.” She said as he entered her room.

“What are you doing princess?” He asks her.

“Not worrying about you, dickhead.” She replies.

“Awww don’t be like that! I was only joking, your highness!”

“You are so annoying!”

“You know you love it!”

“I know I’d love to stab you and hide your body.”

“Stop it before you make my dick hard.”

“You pig!”

“Oink oink baby!”

“Ugh! What do you want Damon?” She asked him.

“I thought you’d want to see my handsome face, baby girl.” He replied.

“You mean the same face that got punched by a king? More specifically my future king?” She asks him.

“I refuse to answer that.” He replied.

“Awwwww that’s okay baby! Besides I already saw the aftermath of the ass whooping he gave you, so I’m good.” She said to him. She snickered as he rolled his eyes at her.

“I still don’t see what you see in him.” He told her.

“Let’s just say I see more in him than I’ll ever see in you.”

“You sure about that princess?” He asks.

“Yes I’m sure. I don’t have to question him. Unlike you. I know where I stand with him.” She replies.

He just smirks at her as he moves her luggage to the door. He was trying to get her all riled up just so he could break her heart.

“I’m sure you think you do, baby girl.” He said to her. She rolled her eyes at him.

“I know what you’re doing, Damon.” She said to him.

“What am I doing sweetheart?” He asks.

“You’re being cryptic. You always did that whenever you wanted to piss me off.” She replies.

“You think that’s what this is, baby girl?” He asks.

“With you it’s more than possible, so.” She replies with a shrug.

“You are still so judgmental, I see.”

“Am I really judgmental or do I just know when you’re trying to pull some shit? Which one is it?” She asks him.

“You’re judgmental! You always have been!” He replied with a bite in his tone.

“Angry already Damon? You know maybe you shouldn’t be here anymore. You don’t seem to really enjoy your job all that much.”

“Cute! Real fucking cute! You still think you’re just little miss perfect, don’t you?” He sneered at her.

“No. Not at all. I just know when to call you out on your bullshit.” She replied.

Damon lets out a dark chuckle then asks, “oh really? And what about your so-called Prince Charming?”

“This conversation has nothing to do with him.” She replies.

“Oh but it does, baby girl. Or at least it will.”

“What are you rambling on about?” She asks him.

“You treat me like I’m some kind of pariah, while you praise the ground your king walks on.” He sneered.

“It’s not my fault. If you had been the man you were supposed to be, I wouldn’t have to be here. I’m here thanks in part to you! If you had been a man when we were together, you wouldn’t have to see me with him now. I would’ve never met him if you hadn’t broken my heart!” She replies.

“And here we go! Here comes the victim act!” He said as he rolled his eyes at her. That infuriated her. She glared daggers at him before speaking what was on her heart.

“You know what? I have had enough of you saying I play the victim. I AM NOT A PLAYING A FUCKING VICTIM! What I tell the world is exactly what happened! YOU! WALKED! OUT! You threw us and what supposed to be our life together away! And you didn’t care what it did to me! You broke me! After giving you all that I had to give, you decided that it wasn’t good enough for you! What’s worse is you decided that I wasn’t good enough for you! You decided that you had to have more. So you went out and got it. You asked me to marry you, just for you to wind up fucking another woman! You decided to be a selfish, self centered bastard! You decided to smile in my face and tell me how much you loved me and how you couldn’t wait to marry me, all while you had the audacity to fuck her in my bed! You violated me! You humiliated me! I swore that I won’t forget this! So I make sure that the world won’t be able to forget it either!”

She was upset at this point and he knew it. He was getting to the point where he wanted her to be.

“And you think your prince is better, right? You think that he won’t hurt you?” He asks her.

“You know what? Yes I do! He loves me! He cares about me! He’s patient. He’s kind. He has a sense of honor, of decency and compassion! And you want to know what the best part about him is? The best part about him is that he’s twice the man and three times the lover that you will ever be!” She replies with rage in her tone.

“He’s twice the man I’ll ever be, huh? You sure about that?” He asks.

“Positive!” She replied.

“Poor little princess! She does the noble thing and defends her king, without realizing that she’s nothing more than a disposable bed warmer! That must be really nice!” He sneered.

That was when she had heard enough and slapped him. He was loving it. He knew what to say and do to set her off. And he was happily doing it to her.

“Ooh! Looks like I struck a nerve! You know? I forgot that you hit hard. I guess learning the truth about where you stand with his majesty stings.” He said to her.

“I fucking hate you!” She said as she seethed.

“That’s okay baby girl! You can hate me all you like. But at least I won’t be the only one.”

“What are you talking about?” She asks. Rather than answer her question, Damon smirked and pulled his phone out.

“A little something I recorded earlier. Consider it as a gift. Now while you watch I’m gonna get your bags. Happy watching!” He said to her as he gathered her luggage together and got it out the door.

She was still confused as to what he meant but she was about to find out. When her phone buzzed on the nightstand, she checked her text messages and saw the incoming text from Damon. It was a video. Which further confused her, until she opened and played it. And what she saw broke her heart.

“No! No! It can’t be! He wouldn’t! Not this! Not again!” She said as she continued to watch. She felt the tears well up in her eyes. It just couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. But there it was in black and white.

Her man and his ex. Together in each other’s arms.

#choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #khoicesbyk #choices fanfiction #fanfic #queen of cordonia #queen shanelle #king marquise #king of cordonia #the royal romance

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pagesofivy · 5 years

Text

San Francisco Flowers

Prompt: Commission for @theweepingvulcan91 for Spock x human!reader

Maybe it’s the first time Spock is seeing the reader out of uniform in something nice and flowy, if that makes sense. Them being on shore leave and Spock shows the reader one of his favorite places in San Francisco or wherever they’re located

Warnings: None, just lotsa fluff. This is a Star Trek fic, so if that’s not your bag of chips, please ignore it.

Beta: @arrow-guy

Word Count: 1758

Tagging: @meganwinchester1999 @calmjoon @quilliamfears @winchester-with-wings @mrswhozeewhatsis @myfand0msandm0re @feelmyroarrrr @danijimenezv @mogaruke @aikibriarrose @sea040561 @becs-bunker @letsdisneythings @gone-to-fight-the-fairies @autoblocked @ashengem @mysticalhood-main @haven-in-writing @emoryhemsworth @sassy-losechester

Spock seems almost excited for the upcoming shore leave, which is concerning. Spock doesn’t usually show emotions, but he was practically vibrating in the month leading up to it. It’s so unlike him that you discretely try to check his vitals to be sure he’s not sick or poisoned or something. He notices your attempts of course, but only arches an eyebrow, too amused by your concern to be worried.

It’s the first real shore leave since you two started dating three years ago, and it’s on your mother’s home planet, Earth. You’ve never been there, having been born on a Starbase in the Alpha Quadrant, and you’re excited to visit the home of your heritage. Spock’s done a lot of research and has already picked out where he wants to show you, he just won’t tell you. Jim’s keeping the secret too - hell, the whole Enterprise is keeping the secret, giving each other knowing grins when you walk in the room. At one point a random yeoman you run into tells you how lucky you are and that you’ll love where Spock is taking you, before scurrying out of the room to attend to some errands Dr. McCoy has him running.

You try to reason with Spock, ask him where you’re going because you’re curious, even lying and saying you don’t like surprises (which he calls you out on), but he won’t budge. You try the logical route, stating you need to know where you’re visiting so you know what to pack, but he just gives a vague answer, saying “It’s going to be humid, and will likely rain a lot. I’ve been advised we wear sun protection, despite the precipitation. We can purchase anything you might end up missing.”

The day before you’re set to leave, you pack, throwing in as much varied clothing as you can. Nothing for cold weather, but pretty much everything else on the weather scale, you’re prepared for - though you’re definitely still paranoid you’re forgetting something. You push that worry down though, saying your goodbyes to those staying on the ship or going places you’re not. You’ve been able to cross some places off your possible destinations list, like Chicago, New York City, and New Orleans, but that still leaves a lot of places open, and you have no idea if he’s planning to go to the big city or a small, rural town, or even somewhere in between. There are Starfleet bases everywhere that might be your stop.

The morning of your departure, you make sure you have everything, checking to make sure Spock has his stuff as well, though it’s pretty unnecessary. Never once has Spock been unprepared, not counting the crazy shit Jim pulls. Jim’s special brand of chaos can’t be prepared for. You go about finalizing your away messages and protocols until it’s time to go, and then you’re off to the transporter room.

Placing your suitcase on one of the transporter platform circles, you step onto your own and catch Spock doing the same in your peripheral vision. You face him fully and wink, to which he responds with a smile and then nods at the person manning the controls. You watch as Spock de-materializes before your eyes, and with a glance at the chief, your particles are making their way down to Earth.

The first things you notice when you’re fully materialized are the palm trees. There are potted ones everywhere in the giant transporter room, and you can see more outside. You immediately put the pieces together and realize you’re somewhere in California. The person there to run the transporter greets you then gets back to work, pointing to where Spock is before ignoring you completely in favor of bringing more people down.

Walking up to Spock, you briefly touch his hand and he smiles a little. “Welcome to San Francisco, (Y/N).” There’s no grandeur to his statement, but you can still see the excitement simmering beneath the surface and it’s contagious because it’s San Francisco! It’s been on both of your lists to visit for as long as you can remember, and being here is a dream.

“Really, San Francisco? You managed to keep quiet about us going to San Francisco? I’m impressed, Spock.” You tease him as he herds you out the door, shuddering as the heat and humidity of the city hit you. “Oh gods, humid indeed. Let’s get to where we’re staying asap. I need time to adjust after the climate-controlled ship.” Spock smirks at your complaints and hands you your suitcase before grabbing his PADD and pressing a few buttons.

“We’ll be there momentarily,” Spock assures, and a few minutes later a hovercar shows up to take you to the hotel. The ride there is mostly quiet, you and Spock both distracted by the sights of the city. Once there, he checks in and you head up, ready to relax for the evening and prepare for the adventure ahead.

The hotel isn’t very fancy, and the room itself is pretty basic, but it has a gorgeous view, a comfortable bed, and air conditioning, all for which you’re grateful. The humidity outside stuck to your skin in the most uncomfortable way, and the cool air is a welcome relief.

Spock puts his things away in the drawers and you do the same, pulling your PADD from your suitcase and sitting on the bed to read once everything is organized. He settles in beside you and pulls up a map of San Francisco on his PADD.

“(Y/N), where do you want to visit while we’re here?” he asks, and you lean your head on his shoulder, looking at the map with him. You point out a few places and bring up a few of your own, and a schedule of sorts is set up for the week before falling asleep beside each other.

The week is full of sights, from Alcatraz to the Fisherman’s Wharf, Chinatown and more. It’s overwhelming in the best way, so many sights and so much history taken in at once. Spock wants to end the week with the Golden Gate Bridge, so that’s where you end up.

On the morning of your last day, you make sure to wear something Spock’s never seen you in- a flowy dress. After all the form-fitting uniforms of Starfleet, it’s a welcome break, and you love how the occasional breeze moves it around your body like it has a mind of its own.

You definitely notice Spock staring for long periods unabashedly, and it makes you feel more confident in your choice. You’re pretty much unable to stop smiling the whole day, and you hold your head high. While Spock never makes you feel unattractive, him finding it hard to look away is a big confidence boost.

Standing at the vista point of the Golden Gate Bridge, your breath is taken away as the sun slowly begins to set, washing the water with a warm glow.

“Spock, this is beautiful,” you murmur, pressing your hand to his. Spock picks your hand up and presses a kiss to it, ever aware of the importance of small human gestures like that, then tugs, pulling you away from the railing.

“I have somewhere else I desire to show you, (Y/N).”

He leads you down a path, through trees and bushes and flowers, until you come upon a greenhouse. He speaks briefly with someone out front, then you both walk in, immediately enveloped by the scent of hundreds of flowers. You pause for a moment and just breathe them all in, eyes closed, trying to name the scents, but it’s impossible; there are too many, and you’re not a great botanist.

You and Spock walk through the flowers, hand-in-hand, with him being ever patient as you stop to look at and smell nearly every flower you pass. Eventually, you come upon one of your favorites and you drop his hand, moving to immerse yourself in the flower as much as possible. They’re so rare to see outside of pictures on the Enterprise that you want to savor the moment.

When you feel you’ve ignored Spock too long, you turn to find him on one knee, small box in hand, and your heart practically stops.

“(Y/N), as you know, I tend to rely more on logic than emotion. But you make me want to use my emotions. Correction, you make my emotions surface, far easier than anyone or anything else. After these three years together, I believe we know each other well enough, and I know there are no other beings out there for me; hopefully, I am the only one for you. I chose to propose by these flowers,” he indicates the nearby petals, “because I know they are your favorite, and aesthetically pleasing, and I wanted you to have a beautiful memory of this moment. I would like… (Y/N) I would like to enter into koon-ut-so'lik with you. As the humans say, will you marry me?”

You’re speechless, tears in your eyes, and you kneel down in front of him, nodding the whole time like a madman. Somehow you manage to choke out a “yes!” and Spock grins like he’s won an incredible prize. He takes your hand and slides the ring on your finger carefully, pressing gentle kisses to each fingertip, then rests his forehead on yours, allowing you to see his thoughts through your bond.

He shows you the joy, happiness, and love he feels around you, all the illogical emotions that surface without his control. Memories of the two of you flash through his mind, the first time you meet, your first “date,” moving into shared quarters on the Enterprise, and so much more. You’re once again overwhelmed, tears openly streaming down your face, and show him the same thing: the security and adventures he gives you, the rightness of being by his side, and your take on all the memories he showed you, plus a few of your own, admiring him when he wasn’t looking.

After what seems like forever of sharing - though it could only have been minutes - you separate and stand, though Spock holds your hand and won’t let go. Your PADDs begin beeping shortly after, messages from Jim telling you it’s time to return to the ship, and with a sigh, you realize how late it’s gotten.

“Let’s go home then, Spock.” You murmur, and he kisses your forehead before nodding and leading you out of the greenhouse.

“Home it is, (Y/N).”

#Spock x reader #star trek fic #fanfiction #twx writes #twx fanfiction #star trek #vulcan x human #fluff fic

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baronessblixen · 5 years

Note

Mulder promising that no one will hurt Scully again - it's a prompt for you! I have only the capacity to think of a few lines. Hoping you will honor me with fic using this little bit. Pretty please?

“He sat silently next to the bed, gently holding her handand letting his thumb stroke the tender inside of her wrist. His eyes closed asif in prayer but he was not praying. He was promising. Wake up Scully and Ipromise I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” - this is what this wonderful anon sent to me. Here’s the fic now. Tagging @today-in-fic

Fill-in for “Tithonus”

Scully was still in surgery when he arrived at the hospital.Flashbacks took him by the hand as he rushed along the corridor, asking for oneDana Scully. Her abduction on one side, her cancer on the other. Both memories werefirm in place at his side. This was different, he reminded himself.

“Dana Scully? Can I see her, please – I'm…” Mulderstopped, his mouth too dry and his legs too heavy. He was incapable of goingon. What was he? Who was he? The nurse stared at him expecting him to go on. Hehad called Mrs. Scully from the airport, promising her to bring her daughterhome in one piece, without a scratch. They both knew he was lying through histeeth. In many ways he was glad they had contacted him, not her. Like herdaughter, Mrs. Scully had been through enough.

“I’m sorry, Mr.-”

“Mulder. FBI.” He scrambled for his badge, hishand shaking as he finally flashed it. “Dana Scully is my partner.”She was so much more than that, though he doubted the nurse cared. Or evenunderstood. Right now he needed her to do her job and bring him to Scully. Hisbody ached to see her, to speak to her. He needed to see her. Touch her. Bewith her.

“She’s still in surgery, Mr. Mulder. That’s all I cantell you.” She shrugged, walking away. Not good enough. Mulder followedher, knowing he was too close and was making her uncomfortable.

“I need to speak to someone. I need to see her.” Therewas no Skinner there to stop him, no Mrs. Scully or Bill Jr. He wanted to bethere when she came to, when she woke up. There was no if; it was a matter ofwhen.

“You can’t see her, Mr. Mulder. She’s in surgery. I’lllet you know when they’re done.” He felt lost, standing there in the white,sterile hallway that stretched on endlessly. The flickering lights had nomercy; it could have been 1 am or 1 pm. Time, it seemed, didn’t matter here.“Sit over there,” the nurse said to him, her voice gentler. “Getyourself some coffee. I’ll let you know as soon as I know more.” Shesqueezed his shoulder in passing and Mulder surrendered to the waiting area andthe uncomfortable plastic chairs. He was the only one there, suffering alone.

One hour and 21 minutes, that’s how long it took until hesaw the nurse again. He jumped to his feet, his empty Styrofoam cup, the edgesmissing, toppling to the ground. Her face was unreadable until Mulder approachedher and saw her small, yet distinctive smile. A doctor followed close behindher, his steps swift.

“Mr. Mulder?” He nodded, didn’t want to waste anymore time. “Ms. Scully is out of surgery. She’s doing well,considering.”

“Can I go see her?”

“She’s still sleeping.” There must have beensomething in his eyes or in his whole attitude. The doctor looked him up anddown before he nodded at the nurse. Relief flooded through him. Mulder followedher, listening to all the precautions. He wasn’t used to being on this side.More often than not, it was him in the operating room, in the ICU. He made amental note to ask Scully to leave the near-death experiences to him in thefuture.

Seeing her like this, small and vulnerable as she was almostswallowed by the bed made Mulder pause. His hands grew cold, his lips dry.

“She’ll be out of it for a while.”

“I’m staying.” He was not going anywhere. Thenurse brought him a chair and he put it close to her bed. Her face was pale,but other than that she looked like she was sleeping. Wake up, he felt likesaying. You’ve been sleeping the day away, Scully. Wake up, wake up.

“She’s going to wake up. Give her time.” Muldercleared his throat, unaware that he’d been talking out loud. He heard thesliding doors behind the nurse close and he was alone with Scully. He satsilently next to the bed, gently holding her hand and letting his thumb strokethe tender inside of her wrist. His eyes closed as if in prayer but he was notpraying; he was promising.

“Wake up Scully and I promise I won’t let anyone hurtyou ever again.” The machines continued to beep in their steady rhythm andMulder watched the gentle slope of her heartbeat on the monitor. His hand heldon to hers. This was his fault. He should have been there. He’d had a badfeeling about Ritter, but Scully had said she was fine, had promised she had itunder control. He trusted her; he never should have put any trust in Ritter.Anger threatened to overwhelm him. But anger wouldn’t solve anything.

“I will never let this happen again, Scully. I promise.We’re partners. You have my back and I have yours. All you have to do is wakeup.” She didn’t even stir. He reminded himself that she needed the rest.This wasn’t like any of the other times. She would wake up. There was no doubtor question about it. Not this time. “I’ve never been very patient,”he told her as if it were a secret. He took her hand into his; it was lifelessand cool, so unlike her. He brought it to his lips, kissed it and put his otherhand over it. He watched her, kept vigil over her.

He grew tired soon, the adrenaline leaving his body. Hishead came to rest on her bed, his back uncomfortably curved. When a handtouched him, he startled awake with a gasp. It was the nurse from earlier.

“You have to leave now, let her rest.” Mulderlooked at Scully, ignoring the nurse. Her eyes were still closed and she wasstill hooked up to too many machines. None of it had been a dream; it was acontinuing nightmare.

“I’m going to stay.” They couldn’t send him away.The nurse sighed, considering saying more before she shrugged and left himalone again. Mulder stretched and reached for his phone. There were several newmessages, all from Kersh. He listened to a voice mail that made it clear thathe was expected back the next day. Mulder glanced at Scully as the man’s voiceboomed in his ear. As much as he hated it, he knew he had to return to D.C. andsoon.

“Hey,” he said softly, only half expecting amiracle. He pulled his chair closer, just to be nearer to her. “I need togo back. So if you could just… I know you’re going to wake up, Scully. But Ipromised I’d be here. Keep me honest?” He smiled at her, sadness tuggingat his core. For a second he believed he saw her eyes flutter, but it was justa trick of his mind.

“I’ll be back,” he promised, or threatened. Atthis point he was no longer sure. Yet, he didn’t move. Just one more moment.Just one more try. “I miss your smile. Do you know how long it’s beensince I’ve seen it? The day you left for this case. I should have been there, Ishould have-”

“M'ler?” No trick of the mind; he wasn’t imaginingthis. Her eyes fluttered and her mouth opened a fraction, her lips trying towork around his name.

“Scully, it’s me.” He squeezed her hand and sheblinked her eyes open like a newborn. Mulder grinned at her, tears forming inhis eyes. She’d made him keep his promise. “Don’t try to speak. I’ll goget the nurse. You just- don’t move.” Mulder stormed to the door, stoppedbefore he went through. He turned to her and her half opened eyes, love overwhelminghim. “Thank you, Scully. For waking up.” He left her alone, his heartaching to stay by her side, to get the nurse. By the time they got back, Scullywas fast asleep again, snoring softly.

“She was awake, I saw it.”

“I believe you, Mr. Mulder. She’ll wake up a few times,but she needs her rest.”

“She’ll be fine.” It wasn’t a question. The nursechecked Scully’s vitals, nodding here and there.

“She’ll make a full recovery, we’ve told you that. Doyou want to talk to the doctor again?” There was a hint of annoyanceapparent in her voice.

“No, thank you. I, uhm need to leave. Will you- whenshe wakes up, will you…tell her I’ll see her soon?” The nurse stared athim long and hard, then she nodded.

“I will,” she promised.

“Thank you.” Mulder grabbed his coat that he’dthrown haphazardly on his chair. He went to check on Scully one last time,waiting if she’d sense him there and open her eyes. Go home, Mulder. He heardher voice in his mind, could almost see the smile he knew she would have givenhim. He leaned forward, not even thinking twice about the nurse, and kissedScully’s forehead. His eyes closed as his lips lingered, unwilling to let go.

“I’ll see you soon, Scully.”

Mulder went home with half his heart left at Scully’sbedside.

#i hope the cut stays #and i hope the words don't run together #enjoy!#it's a bit melodramatic #apologies but this is what came out of me #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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pagsys-writings · 5 years

Text

Burning Tears

Pairing: Miyuki Kazuya/Narumiya Mei

Summary: Mei had never seen Kazuya cry. He didn't expect the day he did to hurt so much. (Based on dropkickwritersblock prompt: write a piece about someone who cries acid)

Words: 2468

Warnings: some minor burn injuries but no one is seriously injured; check AO3 for more tags that I suck at making

AO3

Not once had Mei seen Kazuya cry. Not through their childhood years when Kazuya had been beaten up by bullies. Mei remembered very clearly crying when the scratches he’d gotten burned. But Kazuya hadn’t. Not even when a dark bruise blossomed on his cheek. His eyes had remained dry.

There was one time in high school when he’d seen Kazuya close to tears. It was in their second year when Kazuya had lost, but the catcher had been resolute in his determination to keep the tears in. Mei had thought it both admirable and terrifying because there was no shame in crying. Hell, Mei had cried because he’d won once.

When Mei moved in with Kazuya, he’d almost made it his goal to see him cry. But the man was stubborn. So stubborn, in fact, that Mei worried Kazuya took the whole “boys don’t cry” saying a little too seriously. Mei always did hate that saying.

Me thought his first chance at seeing Kazuya cry was in the kitchen. He remembered peeking his head into the room while Kazuya cooked and grinning when he saw the other handling an onion. But even as he cut the damned vegetable, Kazuya’s eyes had remained dry. The onion had even made Mei’s eyes burn from feet away.

The second moment was when Mei forced Kazuya to watch movies known to be tearjerkers. It turned out that Kazuya was much better at detaching himself from characters than Mei was. And each time, Mei was the one crying into Kazuya’s chest and being comforted.

A multitude of failed attempts led Mei to believe Kazuya just wasn’t capable of crying. He was surprisingly okay with that because Kazuya had never been one to easily show his emotions. He’d known that when they’d started dating. He knew that when he moved in with Kazuya as well. He even knew that when he had started thinking about the next step for the two of them.

Then one night it all changed. Mei was late getting home from work. He’d sent Kazuya a message letting the other know he’d been held up by a meeting. He never got a response, but that wasn’t necessarily a surprise coming from Kazuya. The man was horrendous at responding to messages. Sometimes Mei thought he was purposely ignored. He probably would have had better luck calling, but Mei had been in a rush to get home.

“I’m home!” He called when he stepped through the door. He could smell food cooking in the kitchen, but it was oddly quiet. Kazuya always listened to music while cooking if Mei wasn’t home. When Mei asked about, Kazuya said something about how he’d gotten used to listening to Mei’s incessant talking so he had to find something to fill the silence. Mei still wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not.

This, however, was different. Mei didn’t know why, but he could feel that something was wrong. “Kazuya?” He asked while hastily pulling his shoes from his feet and dropped his bags.

Once free, Mei went straight to the kitchen. His hands were shaking against the door frame as adrenaline pumped through his veins. He found Kazuya on the floor. His back pressed into the corner of the room, legs pulled to his chest and phone discarded to the side of him. Mei couldn’t see Kazuya’s face hidden against his knees, but he seemed... okay. At least, physically.

Mei stepped into the room and checked the stove. Everything was off but the food in the pans seemed overdone. Definitely unlike Kazuya.

“Hey, Kazuya?” Mei asked and saw the way Kazuya flinched at his own name. It was then Mei noticed Kazuya’s shoulders trembling. “Hey...” He moved closer but Kazuya just pulled his knees in closer to himself.

“Go away, Mei.”

The words were muffled, but Mei didn’t miss the hitch in the other’s voice. Kazuya was crying. Mei always thought the moment he saw the other cry would be one of victory, but he had no idea why Kazuya was crying and seeing him like this was breaking his heart. “If you think I’m just going to leave you here, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.”

He knelt down in front of Kazuya, but he was being ignored. And Mei does not do well with being ignored. He forced Kazuya’s face up to see that he was, in fact, crying. What Mei did not expect when he went to wipe the tears away was Kazuya’s sudden panic.

“Stop!” He shouted, shoving Mei away from him.

“What the hell-” Mei sat up ready to give Kazuya a piece of his mind but pain shot through his hand, making him hiss. “Ah! What...” He at first thought he’d landed on his wrist wrong, but the pain just kept growing. “Shit!” He screeched in a panic greater than Kazuya’s. “What the fuck!” His hand burned uncontrollably. His skin was bright red and he could see blisters beginning to form.

He was having a hard time breathing. The panic and pain had him rooted to the spot and all he could do was curse and stare at his burning skin.

Then hands were pulling him to the sink. He stumbled to stand but Kazuya pushed him against the counter and shoved his hand under the running water. He could hear apologies falling from Kazuya’s lips but Mei could only focus on the burning sensation until it started to lessen.

The next thing he knew, Mei was sitting on the couch. Kazuya had disappeared somewhere into their apartment. His hand was horrible. The blisters didn’t look so bad, but it was an angry red. It still burned whenever his hand moved just a little, and his only thought was that work was going to be a bitch tomorrow.

But Mei still didn’t understand what-

“Stop trying to move your hand.” Mei looked up to see Kazuya holding something in his hands. However, what really bothered Mei was the insecurity in Kazuya’s eyes. He was scared.

Mei lifted his hand and smiled. He did his best to hide the wince at the pain that radiated through his hand. “I’m fine.”

Kazuya shook his head, unimpressed with Mei’s attempts. “You’re not fine.” He knelt down and gently took Mei’s hand.

He began by cleaning Mei’s hand and softly apologizing every time Mei flinched. Then he layered some sort of ointment on the blisters and Mei sighed in relief at the cooling sensation. This was one of the softest he’s ever seen Kazuya.

“We should probably go to the hospital...” Kazuya mumbled under his breath while he wrapped Mei’s hand in gauze.

Mei watched while Kazuya worked diligently. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He finally asked when Kazuya just held onto his hand as if just his touch could heal Mei. “After everything we’ve been through...”

Kazuya refused to look up at him, but never removed his hands. “I was scared.” Mei frowned. “And then you were trying to get me to cry...” Finally, Kazuya looked up at him. Mei could see the red lines going down Kazuya’s face and there were burned holes and marks on his shirt. “Do you know how difficult that was?”

“I’m sorry,” Mei whispered. If he’d known then what he knew now, he would have never tried to make Kazuya cry. His uninjured hand moved to Kazuya’s cheek. His thumb traced one of the lines. “You’re hurt, too.”

Smiling slightly, Kazuya shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. My body’s used to this. It just stings a little.” Mei frowned at the words. “I promise the red will fade in an hour or two. You though...”

Mei’s frown didn’t lessen. He knew many people like Kazuya. Itsuki would blush these little tiny flowers. Mei used to enjoy making the blush spread to his ears. It was always entertaining seeing the flowers pop up on his ears. He even knew a girl that made the room smell like the ocean when she was excited. This was the first time he knew of something that could hurt him and even Kazuya.

“It’ll heal,” Mei promised and pressed a kiss to Kazuya’s lips. Kazuya’s eyes still looked unsure like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “This doesn’t make me love you any less. I hope you know that.”

Kazuya’s eyes looked down at Mei’s injured hand. Mei wondered if Kazuya was more scared of himself than Mei wanting to leave. “I know that.”

“Hey.” Kazuya looked back up at him. “Why were you crying?” Through all their years, Kazuya has kept a tight lid on his emotions and tears. Yet here he was again... eyes turning misty. The whites of his eyes turned red with unshed tears. “What’s wrong?” He pressed again.

“M-my dad...” Kazuya’s voice broke. “He had a heart attack at the shop. One of his coworkers found him.”

His heart dropped. Kazuya and his father didn’t always see eye to eye, but he still cared about the man. He had already lost his mother. Mei couldn’t imagine what Kazuya was feeling now.

Gently taking his hand from Kazuya’s, Mei wrapped his arms around him. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered when Kazuya held onto him tightly. “Is he at the hospital?” He felt Kazuya nod against his shoulder.

“He was still unconscious when the hospital called.”

Mei hummed and rubbed circles on Kazuya’s back in comfort. He made sure to keep his injured hand at a safe distance. “How long ago was that?”

“I don’t know,” Kazuya admitted and pulled away. He had that scared look in his eyes again.

Before he could run off - probably to find his phone and check - Mei grabbed his hand. “Let’s go then.” Kazuya looked unsure. One of the biggest reasons he didn’t get along with his father was because of Mei. His father just couldn’t wrap his head around their relationship. “I won’t go in if you don’t want me to, but you should go. You want to.” Kazuya gave a slight nod. “Besides,” he held up his hand, “you did say I should probably get this checked out.”

Kazuya smiled sadly. “I really am sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Mei waved him off as he stood. “It’s fine. I get it.” But he was still a little sad Kazuya didn’t trust him enough to say something. “Let’s go.” He held out his hand for Kazuya to take and smiled when he did.

“You haven’t eaten yet.” Kazuya said while they got their shoes on and grabbed anything they would need.

“No one’s ever died from eating hospital food.” Mei stated and Kazuya chuckled. It made Mei smile.

On their way to the hospital, Mei refused to let go of Kazuya’s hand. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t afraid of Kazuya or his acid tears even if they burned like hell. Mei would just have to make sure Kazuya never needed to cry again.

“I’m sorry about always trying to make you cry.” They sat at the back of the bus. All the moving around was making Mei’s hand ache again. He could feel his pulse in his fingertips and it was starting to drive him a little crazy.

“It’s fine.” Kazuya massaged his uninjured hand. “I was pretty much expecting it from you. You can never just... let things be.”

Mei smiled. “Is it hard?” Kazuya looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Not allowing yourself to cry.”

With his eyes downcast, Kazuya smiled sadly. “It is.”

“You can, you know?” Kazuya laughed, but Mei squeezed their hands to tell him he wasn’t lying. “I’m serious. If it doesn’t really hurt you... in the shower with the water...” He breathed out. “It’s not good to keep your emotions bottled, Kazuya.”

“I know.” He smiled but his eyes still seemed sad. “I know, Mei.”

For some reason, he felt like Kazuya was taking five steps back. Like he was about to close himself off from the world and from Mei, especially from Mei. “I’m not going anywhere.” He’d kind of already said it, but he felt like he needed to drill it into Kazuya’s thick skull. “You’re stuck with me for life.” Kazuya snorted and Mei knew he wasn’t being taken seriously. “I mean I have been planning our wedding for like the last six months.”

That got Kazuya’s attention. His laugh got caught in his throat and he started coughing to clear his airway. “You... y-you what?!” His voice rose and a few of the riders glared in their direction.

“What?” He asked indignantly. “Is that so hard to believe that I’d want to spend my life with you? I mean, shit Kaz, we’ve been together for over two years. I’ve known you since you were a dumb ass kid and I still asked you out. I’ve even been thinking up cheesy ways to propose to you because I know you’d drag your feet until we were old. I’m literally in this for the long haul, so,” he leveled Kazuya with a glare, “if you plan on going somewhere, you better fucking tell me right now.”

Kazuya’s mouth opened and closed a few times with just a squeak here and there coming out. It felt good to make Kazuya speechless. He almost always had some kind of retort ready that it infuriated Mei to no end that he could never get the last word in.

Mei didn’t expect Kazuya to look so conflicted, but he had an idea as to why. “Newsflash, Kazuya,” he said after a moment of silence, “even though you can be really shitty, you can also be really lovable.”

“Even with...” Kazuya motioned to his eyes.

“Even with your tears.” Kazuya gripped his hand tightly and smiled. He didn’t respond, but Mei could see the fears beginning to lift from his eyes and knew Kazuya wasn’t going anywhere.

He sighed and relaxed as much as he could into the bus seat. Now that his ranting was over, the pounding in his hand was the only thing he could think of. Each bump the bus hit had him flinching and holding his breath.

“So what kind of wedding are we having?” Kazuya said, pulling his focus away from his hand.

“I’m glad you asked.” And he was because Mei would much rather focus on his pretend wedding plans than on his stupid aching hand. “It’s obviously going to be at a baseball field. Preferably Inashiro.” Kazuya laughed at that and Mei grinned. He spent the rest of the ride to the hospital going into detail about locations and outfits, even the color scheme. But what made Mei the happiest was the way Kazuya smiled as he listened to Mei ramble on about all these little things.

#miyumei #narumiya mei #miyuki kazuya #daiya no ace #narumiyu

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revwinchester · 7 years

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Rewriting Rev Y1K Challenge

Two awesome things are happening all at once! I’ve hit 1,000 followers and we’re approaching my one year tumblr-versary! Though I’d been writing for a while before joining tumblr, my first post here was on August 20, 2016 and I’ve posted 58 fics on this blog between my one shots and drabbles (and one series). That’s more than one a week, which is awesome and kind of surprising because I feel like I’ve had so much writer’s block this year!

To celebrate I’m hosting a challenge! Huzzah! The twist on this challenge is that I’ve taken my favorite line from 50 of my fics and I want to see what that line inspires YOU to write!

There are some rules under the cut followed by the prompts!!

Rules:

Send me an ask - not a message/reply/reblog, I’ll just tell you to send an ask - with your first and second choices for prompts.

Please be following me, this is a follower celebration (among other things) after all!

There is no minimum or maximum word count. However, if you’re writing more than 500 words, please use the “Keep Reading” function. Also, if this is going to be a series, I ask that you use the prompt in the first part of a new series.

All are welcome to participate! If this is your 1st fic or your 1000th, feel free to join in the fun. I would never have gotten this far without other people hosting challenges and inspiring me!

I don’t read RPF or Wincest/Incest Ships of any kind but, besides that, anything SPN goes! Reader insert, shipping, original characters, gen!fic… it’s all good!

I don’t post smut on this blog but you can write smut, just know that I will be reblogging any smutty entries on @impalasutra. Fluff, Angst, and Crack are all awesome and appreciated, too!

Entries must be posted by October 21, which is 2.5 months from now. (Note: Signups won’t close so if you’re finding this challenge in September or October, feel inspired by an available prompt, and feel like you’ll have the time to write, feel free to sign up! Just let me know your ask is about the challenge.)

Tag me, @revwinchester in your A/N and use the tag #RewritingRev when you post so that folks can find everything. And if I don’t like your post within 3 days, shoot me a message - my tags have been working on and off all summer and I don’t want to miss anything!

Prompts:

I’m not going to tell you which fic the prompts are from until I reblog your fic because I don’t want to influence anyone’s creativity :)

This is all a tequila induced hallucination @samwinjarpad

If you don’t mind my asking, Your Highness, what were you expecting?

You know which bones you need to burn, right?

So what are you “researching” with this Pixar movie? @lacqueluster

There will be plenty of time for apologies and self loathing later @mrspadackles

When have I ever striven to be normal, Dean? @masksandtruths

The next person to ask me if I’m alright is getting punched in the mouth @jpadjackles

What if I want that? What if I’ve wanted that for a long time? @roxy-davenport

This is not a courtroom, there are no grounds for objection here @theriverscribe

And remember to always practice safe sexting @impalaimagining

I basically invited myself and didn’t want to stick around long enough for you to realize it and change your mind

It worked for the two of you, though, and that was all that mattered as you took out one of the two remaining teams on the map @justanotherdeangirl

As he lit the contents of the bowl on fire, the tell tale sounds of another wrestling match broke out. @lucilepiewhiskey

A strong handshake and you baked a pie?

Tonight all three of you died because of me

This is ridiculous. I am an adult and I can handle this on my own @supernaturallymarvellous

If you hadn’t taken so long with that last lady, we wouldn’t be rushing right now

That was supposed to get you in the back of the head, but you turned around at the perfect moment

Dean wasn’t the only Winchester who didn’t care to talk about his feelings on the regular

Don’t be an idiot, get in the car @feelinthefanfiction

I definitely wouldn’t have untied my robe if I had known he was there @fangirlextraordinaire

That was, like, three apocalypses ago @queencflair

But don’t feel like you have to rush. Unless, you know, you want to @not-that-rude-but-very-ginger

Any holiday that was basically about getting drunk was on their list of “acceptable holidays to celebrate”

I should probably sabotage you so that you’re stuck with us forever

You’re allowed to know about my career but I can’t be a fan of yours? @nanika67

I’m an archangel’s soulmate, not a damsel in distress @archangel-with-a-shotgun

I don’t think it’s gonna be that kind of party @uniquewerewolfsuit

Promise you won’t say another word and I’ll start praying

He hit a particularly pungent pathway in the tunnel and smiled to himself as he imagined what his humans’ reactions would be

Unlike that song, this is irony. Situational irony if we’re being specific

You are not wearing the shirt that you used to disguise yourself as a hooker to go out on a date with some random guy

I promised to stay out of your head; please don’t make me break that promise. Tell me what’s going on @winchestergirl-13

God knows you’ve got the hair for it…

What the hell are you talking about? And how are you so damn chipper?

Her friend had always had that talent; perhaps it was why they had grown so close

That uniform covers way too much to be anything but standard issue @crispychrissy

Yeah, we didn’t really get too far into my magical training before I killed the assholes who killed my parents

Though, from the looks of things, we were probably next on the menu.

You’re the brightest, most promising technical mind in the immediate area and we have need of your skills

I want to help people, still but not… not like this

Love you too, little bug @thecuriouscrusader

So, how much was my total and complete mortification worth?

“I know who Sam is, I’m talking to the guy next to him

We’re already a family

Oh, good, he does have a personality @savvywrites

With the way he looked at her, like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, how could she not end up believing it?

I should have realized, should have known, that it was your voice but not your words @thinkwritexpress-official

I’m just so happy to have you back safe and mostly sound

Now, there’s the snark I’ve come to expect! @imaginesforthose-wholovefandoms

So, yeah! Yay! Join the challenge and celebrate with me! I’m tagging some people in the hopes of a signal boost :D

ALL THE TAGS! (forevers): @deathtonormalcy56 @supernaturalyobsessed @roxy-davenport @sumara62 @ginamsmith @gallifreyansass

Mooselings: @jared-padaloveme

Squirrel Scouts: @akshi8278

People who participated in my last challenge: @avasmommy224 @roxy-davenport @maximumkillshot @impala-dreamer @chaos-and-the-calm67 @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @buckysmetallicstump @supernaturallymarvellous @impalaimagining @paigeinastory

Some others who I hope will signal boost (or just ignore this post, either way haha): @atc74 @mrswhozeewhatsis @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nanika67

Anyone else who wouldn’t mind signal boosting, please do so!! And consider joining!

#Rewriting Rev #challenge #1000 followers #1 year anniversary

48 notes · View notes

lesbianlametron · 7 years

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BoKuroo Week Day 7

((I know this is super late. At first I didn’t have inspiration and my weekend was busy. Then I thought a model!Kuroo au? Yes please and I thought modeling clothes was close enough to the prompt T-shirt. This is predominately BoKuroo, but I sprinkled a few other pairing in there including some other rare-pairs that I’ve been loving recently. TsukiKage, HinaYama, DaiSuga, and IwaOi))

Prompt: T-shirt

Title: Connections

Rating: T

Summary: After months and months of trying to making his modeling career take off, Kuroo finally books a runway show. He’s super nervous but luckily, Bokuto is there for him. Bokuto doesn’t know what to expect, but as soon as Kuroo emerges on the runway in a crop top, he’s sold. Through a few connections, Kuroo meets his idol and lands a manager with a certain score to settle.

From Tetsu at 3:45p

Babe, don’t forget about tonight--invitation is on the kitchen island. You will need it get in.

Bokuto rolled his eyes at the text message, but it made him smile anyway. He wanted to leave the text for a while just to make Kuroo sweat, but decided that wasn’t the best idea. It was a big day for Kuroo and he didn’t really want his boyfriend mad at him now.

To Tetsu at 3:47pm

Geez, I got it babe. I’ll be there at 6:45

I am capable at some things, you know.

From Tetsu at 3:47pm

Eh, that’s debatable. You are quite forgetful and you get distracted easily.

Bokuto narrowed his eyes at his phone as if he glared could reach Kuroo through the screen. He decided to snap a selfie of that annoyed face instead of replying with words.

From Tetsu as 4:25pm

I love you! I fucking mean it. I’m nervous about tonight—it’s my first big show—and I’m glad you got off work to be here! You’re the best boyfriend ever! We’re doing a run through, just finished getting my hair and makeup done.

Kuroo sent him a selfie and Bokuto’s mouth suddenly felt dry. He had to thank whoever was in charge of hair and makeup. Kuroo’s hair didn’t look much different than it normally did, but the stylist managed to make Kuroo’s bedhead look like it was on purpose. That wasn’t the best part for Bokuto, the makeup artist had put eyeliner on Kuroo and It made his eyes look piercing and sexy. The light contour made his cheek bones more predominant and Bokuto kind of wanted to like his screen.

To Tetsu at 4:28pm

You look hella hot, my sex kitten! No way would I miss this.

From Tetsu at 4:28pm

STOP! You make me blush with your stupid nicknames. I just got weird looks! Oh! I left a suit for you at home on the bed, please wear it tonight, you gorgeous ray of sunshine. ;P

From Tetsu at 4:29

Gotta go. See you in a couple of hours.

Now it was Bokuto’s turn to blush. Kuroo could be just as cheesy as he was and Bokuto loved it to no end. He had planned on going in what he wore to work, but of course Kuroo would have other plans. He trusted Kuroo though, he had always had the better fashion of the two of them. He’d have to call the closing manager to see if he could come in a bit earlier. Tskuishima wasn’t going to be happy at being called in almost an hour early. He swallowed and used the office phone to call him.

He wasn’t answered with a hello, but an annoyed sigh. “…Let me guess, you need me to come in early?”

“Tsukki! Please! Tetsu wanted me dress up for tonight so I gotta run home and change.”

“Don’t call me that. And of course, he does, you should have expected Kuroo to do that and brought the clothes here, dumbass. He dresses better than all of us and he probably got you front row seats to his show. Of course, you’re supposed to be dressed up!”

“Please? I’ll cover your whole Saturday next week.”

“You better not back out of that. I’ll be there in an hour then.”

“Thanks, Tsukki!!! You're the best.”

He heard a scoff on Tsukishima’s side of the line and snickered a bit. “Yeah, I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing it to get my Saturday off.”

“Oh? Big date with Tobio?”

“No. I'm hanging up now.”

Bokuto chuckled as the line went dead. “They are the most Tsundere couple. Well I guess, Kageyama is straight forward, although he gets embarrassed easily.”

“Bo! Customer out front is looking for you.”

“I'm on it.” Bokuto called back and went to the front of the restaurant. He spied a shock of orange hair immediately knew it was Hinata who had asked for him. He rolled his eyes and approached the booth. “Hinata, you have to stop planning your dates when I’m on shift.” He smiled at Hinata’s boyfriend. “Hey Yama.”

Yamaguchi returned the smile and Hinata spoke up for both of them. “Hey! Tadashi loves this place and what's wrong with using my connections? So, you’ll give us a discount, right Mr. manager?”

Bokuto rubbed his chin and rocked back on his heels? Pretending to mull it over. “My shift is over in less than an hour now. Better take that up with Tsukki.” Bokuto smirked at Hinata.

“Nooo…” Hinata whined a bit. “Tsukki is super mean and doesn't even help his friends!”

Yamaguchi smiled and took Hinata’s hand. “Tsukki would do it for me, don't worry.”

Bokuto laughed, “Sometimes I think you're only dating Yama so Tsukki will be nice to you.”

“I am not! I love Tadashi, he's a super nice person and so determined to do well at all he does. He supports everyone he loves!”

Yamaguchi bit his lip, clearly touched by Hinata’s words. In his rush to defend their relationship, Hinata hadn’t even realized how sweet he was being. “Thanks, Shoyo! I love you because you have so much enthusiasm for life and you can talk to anyone. It's so endearing.”

Bokuto rolled his eyes. “You two are so sappy. Enjoy your meal and I'll see what I can do.”

“You're the best Bokuto!”

“Yeah, yeah, I have reports to go over.” He waved over his shoulder and walked back to his office to finish working until the end of his shift.

Tsukishima had been pissed as usual whenever he was called in, but Bokuto was glad Yamaguchi had been there. Seeing his best friend, always softened him up a bit. Bokuto was going to have work twelve hours next weekend and Kuroo would probably be mad about it. Then again, if he wasn’t dressed properly for tonight, Kuroo would also be mad. He had to pick the lesser of two evils. He admired himself in the mirror and sighed to himself. Of course, Kuroo would know his measurements perfectly so the suit fit so well, Kuroo probably had it specially made. It flattered his body in every way and the gold accents made his eyes pop. He grinned and sent a mirror selfie to Tsukishima as explanation.

To Tsukki at 6:25pm

See, this is reason I had you come in early.

From Tsukki at 6:26pm

You send this to me like a care.

…but Kuroo knows how to pick out a suit.

Bokuto grinned at the text. Tsukishima pretended to hate them, like he did with everyone, but Bokuto knew they were friends. He had probably only responded nearly immediately so Bokuto wouldn’t keep bugging him throughout the night.

To Tsukki at 6:28

So, are you telling me I look good? ;)

From Tsukki at 6:28

No, but tell Kuroo I said I hope he falls off the runway.

To Tsukki at 6:29

So, I’ll tell him you said good luck.

Bokuto chuckled and put his phone away as he got into a cab. He felt the buzz at his hip and he knew it was Tsukishima telling him something along the lines of “No, tell him exactly what I said. And if he does fall on his face, send videos”, but he ignored it. Now was the time to focus on Kuroo and his big break. Kuroo had worked so hard to book photoshoots and runway and finally landed one. He still remembered the days he would come home and find Kuroo crying in a corner over being rejected all day. Bokuto thought the modeling agencies were insane because Kuroo was the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. But competition was stiff for male models, and an agency may only have a few spots for those models. He bet that Kuroo had only missed the cut by a small margin. The fashion industry was about who you knew, more than what you looked like.

It helped that Bokuto and Kuroo knew the designer tonight. This was Sugawara’s first clothing line, but it had gotten tons of media attention. He supposed it had do with Suga meeting a certain photographer and catching his attention. Instagram had been a big part of the reason Suga’s line blew up. Bokuto had stopped for flowers on the way and walked in, past the lines of people begging to get in and presented his VIP invite. He was immediately given a glass of champagne and escorted to his seat by two gorgeous models.

The place was super modern and unlike most fashion shows, encouraged the views to post photos on social media as long as they tagged the videos or photos appropriately. The walls were draped with thin white chiffon and behind each panel, were fairy lights that slowly alternated colors. They started with red and cycled through the different colors of the rainbow. Bokuto grinned with pride and took his seat in the first row, right at the end of the runway. He thought this show was the best thing for Kuroo’s big break. Suga’s line heavily promoted the LGBT+ community and as part of it themselves, Bokuto was thrilled that Suga had accepted Kuroo as one of their models. He pulled at his phone and sent a cheeky reply to Tsukishima before texting Kuroo that he had just gotten seated.

“I’ve seen Kuroo in some of the clothes during our walk through earlier. I think you’ll like what you see.” Bokuto looked up and saw Daichi sliding into the seat next to him, his smaller camera hanging around his neck.

“Hey Daichi!” He returned the smile. “Oh yeah? Just make sure you’re not only taking photos of Suga during the show.” Bokuto winked at him.

“He’ll barely even be on the runway, he’s very involved backstage. Plus, I’ve got plenty of photos of him already.”

“Gross.” Daichi laughed at Bokuto’s reaction, but they were both interrupted by Kuroo calling out to him.

“Babe! Thank God you’re here.” Kuroo ran over, his hair and makeup done, but obviously was in midst of getting ready. Bokuto swallowed and couldn’t take his eyes of Kuroo. The selfie had not done him justice, he looked even more stunning in person. Kuroo tried to look calm, but Bokuto saw in his eyes, he was mildly freaking out.

Bokuto took both of Kuroo’s hands and gave him a quick peck on the lips, careful not to smear of his makeup. “You look amazing, honey, don’t worry. You’ll be great. And if you do fall off the runway, I’ll be here to catch you.”

“That isn’t very comforting.”

“Okay, then walk like you would for me at home.” Bokuto kissed Kuroo’s cheek, changing up his strategy. “I’m right here at the end of the runway. Look at me, I’ll be cheering for you the whole time.”

Kuroo smiled and finally calmed down enough to fully take in Bokuto’s clothing. “True, it’ll be hard to keep my eyes off you. He let go of Bokuto’s hands and quickly adjusted his gold tie and matching pocket square. “You even got the cuff links in right. You look incredible, Kou.”

“KUROO! We’re starting in ten minutes. Get your ass back here! We still need to dress you for your first look.” Suga was standing at the entrance to backstage and glaring daggers in their direction.

Kuroo winced and gave Bokuto a sheepish grin. “Yeah, I wasn’t supposed to leave backstage this close to the show. I kinda snuck out to see you, but I needed you.”

“Oh! I got these for you.” Bokuto presented Kuroo with a bouquet of orange, spotted flowers and Kuroo sighed dreamily.

“Babe, tiger lilies are my favorite! Thank you. Now I can have you with me during my set changes. You’re so sweet. I don’t deserve you.” Kuroo forgot that Suga was mad at him for a moment and just stared at his boyfriend.

“KUROO NOW!”

Kuroo grabbed the flowers and dashed backstage, accepting the full wrath of Suga with an apologetic smile.

“Your boyfriend is an ass. Koushi is already stressed enough as it is.” Daichi scolded with a little grin.

“He is, but I love him anyway because we’re asses together.”

Daichi rolled his eyes and walked away. “Enjoy the show, I’ll see you after.”

Bokuto sat eagerly and waited for the lights to dim. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a man with dark hair take the seat next to him. He recognized him right away and his eyes lit up. “Iwaizumi! You’re Iwaizumi, right? I didn’t know Oikawa was going to be in the show too! Damn, Suga booked a big name like that?”

Iwaizumi smiled a little, but rolled his eyes. “Tooru saw it blow up on Instagram and called Sugawara-san directly, asking to be part of the show. He’s obsessed with the line and what it stands for and of course, he totally loses himself when an obsession hits. He totally ignored the photoshoot I booked for him today.”

“That’s awesome though! My boyfriend is an up and coming model. He follows Oikawa on Instagram, that’s why I recognized you. I purposefully made sure I got off today. I’m so excited for him to be a show. I wonder if it would get old when Tetsu is as popular as Oikawa.” Bokuto gushed excitedly, losing himself in that same way, not realizing exactly what he had said.

Iwaizumi smirked at Bokuto, “Oh yeah? You really think he can get as popular as Tooru?”

Bokuto blushed a little, “Oh shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! He’s only been in small ad campaigns, but Tetsu is really good! Plus, he’s super-hot and works out a lot. He’s slender, but he has legs for days and a six pack.”

“I was teasing you. There are a lot of big names here tonight, so he just might. Tooru could be knocked down a few pegs. Hopefully for you, your boyfriend will be easier to manage. Tooru himself is a full-time job. As annoying as he is, Tooru’s good with his fans. Always makes us late for shoots or shows, but lucky for his ass, he’s such a big name now, that none of our clients care.”

“I’m uh, Bokuto Koutarou, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.” Bokuto offered his hand.

“Iwaizumi Haijame.” He quickly shook Bokuto’s hand, trying not to raise his eyebrows at Bokuto’s too firm grip. “It’s great that you support him and everything, but you should get a manager for him that knows the business. It only worked out for Tooru and I because dropped everything to follow his career. I hate it sometimes, but Tooru doesn’t work well with others. His personality often rubs other models or agents the wrong way.”

“You’re not looking for another model, are you?”

“And have Tooru whining at me that I’m giving your Tetsu more attention than him? No way.”

“Oh, it’s Kuroo Tetsurou. Well, if you have one in mind, let me know. He’s had it rough finding agencies on his own.” Bokuto bit his lip. “He’s so talented, but we’re learning this industry is more about who you know. We’re only here because Tetsu and I went to college with Suga and Daichi.”

“I do know one, but he’s very picky with his clients. They have to not annoy him too much, but he has a good relationship with many of the photographers and producers in town. He seems aloof sometimes, but he’s great at what he does.” Iwaizumi gestured to another dark-haired male across the stage runway. “Akaashi Keiji. He’s looking for another model since he last one quit. Don’t annoy him before the show and don’t even think of begging him to take on Kuroo-san. If he likes what he sees, he’ll come after him. He won’t waste his time on any model that he doesn’t think will go far. He knows how to read people and he infuriates me, but at the same time, I admire him.”

Bokuto was about to thank Iwaizumi for the tips, but the lights went down. The runway lit up with the same shifting color bulbs that were strung along the walls. The show started with Suga walking onstage as the screens behind him showed a slide show of his looks from Instagram. “Thank you all for coming tonight. I especially want to thank those who follow the Instagram account and made this all possible. This is a show about standing out, but it’s also about being who you are. We hand selected a group of models who are just as varied as my line, but I’ll let it speak for itself.” Suga waved again and smiled at Daichi as he lit up the stage with flashbulbs.

The music started and the lights started changing coloring and flashing to match the beat. Everything went dark and still for a moment until the first model walked out. Bokuto inhaled a sharp breath through his noise and his heart started pounding. He hadn’t Kuroo to be the first model on the runway, but that wasn’t what truly surprised him. It was his shirt, it wasn’t even a full shirt and stopped just short of Kuroo’s belly button. Never in his life did he think he would see Kuroo in crop top and never in his life would he realize how much he needed it. His outfit was paired with fitted black pants and a floral jacket. All the pieces were very androgynous and Bokuto guessed that was the point of the line. Either way, it worked well for Kuroo.

Iwaizumi must have noticed Bokuto’s gasp and fixed attention. “He’s first out. That’s a good sign. He’s the first impression that the audience will get. The opening model and closing models are usually the most memorable.”

Bokuto barely heard Iwaizumi because his eyes were fixed completely on Kuroo. His boyfriend was rocking it in his opinion and Bokuto’s heart stopped when Kuroo reached the end of the runway. He posed and gave the audience a smirk and a cheeky wink. Bokuto could tell that it was aimed at him more than anyone else. When Kuroo turned, and started his walk back, he finally looked at Iwaizumi. “How did you think he did?”

“That wink and smirk could either become a signature for him or it could turn people off. He must have asked Tooru for tips. Tooru has a thing for blowing a little kiss at the end of the runway. The girls go crazy for him. It’s risky, but in my opinion, it was well received. His walk is filled with confidence and has a certain sensuality to it. I think he’ll get an offer from this at least.” Iwaizumi nodded to the well-dressed people in the front row on the right stage of the runway.

Bokuto grinned and heard it throughout the crowd and all of them seemed positive. He heard a lot of, ‘who is that?’ and from the emphasis on the last word, he could tell that it was a good thing. He and Iwaizumi watched the show in fixated silence. The cheering for Kuroo got louder with each outfit he modeled and Bokuto was falling even more in love with his boyfriend.

He noticed Iwaizumi sit up a little straighter and a resounding cheer ripple through the crowd. If the closer was the most memorable, he was sure Oikawa was it. He walked out oozing confidence and sex appeal as he walked down the runway. The girls as well as some of the guys swooned and the flashbulbs went wild. Bokuto had to admit he was hot, but he was super biased to Kuroo. With more experience, he was sure his boyfriend could be hotter than Oikawa.

Iwaizumi was laser focused the whole time and it made Bokuto smile. He noticed it only because it was how he felt when Kuroo was walking. There was a certain pride in watching the room react to your hot boyfriend and knowing that he was all yours. Oikawa did his signature kiss to the crowd and Iwaizumi smiled at him. If Bokuto wasn’t head-over-heels, stupidly in love with Kuroo he might have swooned as well. Oikawa returned backstage and the whole cast of models returned for a final walk through. Kuroo led the group feeding off the crowd’s cheers and standing ovation. It made him more playful and he winked directly at Bokuto this time. Bokuto bit his lip and swooned. He felt like seeing Kuroo happy and confident could sustain him forever.

Suga stepped back stage when the models returned and took a bow. “Thank you all for coming and look for my line Mixed Media in stores soon. If you have a VIP invite, feel free to come to our after party and we’ll be checking invites so don’t try to sneak in.” Suga grinned and waved to the crowd. Bokuto followed Iwaizumi to the banquet hall and bar in the basement.

“IWA-CHAN!” They were immediately greeted by Oikawa who threw his arms around Iwaizumi’s waist. “Did you like it?”

“Your walk was a little fast at one point, but yes. You sold your outfit well.” He pulled away and gestured to Bokuto standing next to him. “Tooru, this is Bokuto Koutarou, he’s Kuroo’s boyfriend.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin until his eyes lit up with recognition. “OH! The newbie. He’s cute, but needs more experience. He’s still star struck by models like myself, he was asking me for pointers and everything. Totally adorable. How did a guy like that get the leading spot?”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at Bokuto as if to say ‘see what I mean?’. “We’re friends with the designer and lead photographer.” He said, crossing his arms and trying to look intimidating.

“KOU!” Kuroo ran over to them and hugged Bokuto who lifted him off his feet with his infamous, crushing hug.

“I’m so proud of you, my darling.” Bokuto set him down and kissed his cheek. He took in Kuroo’s outfit, he was wearing his opening outfit once again. Bokuto couldn’t help himself nor did he want to, as he slid his hands over exposed of Kuroo’s torso. “What’s with this, hm?”

“Suga said it looked so good on me that I could keep it. Do you like it?” He winked and posed for him.

“I was surprised when you first walked out in it, but, seriously, I love it.”

“Do you think I did okay?” Kuroo pulled away played with the hem of his shirt, suddenly self-conscious in the presence of Oikawa and Iwaizumi as well. His eyes were focused on Bokuto, but they shifted to the pair as well.

“For your first show, I think it was successful. I think you’ll get at least one offer tonight.” Iwaizumi reassured him in a calm voice.

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “You’re a total newbie, but I think you did a good job.”

“Better than Tooru’s first show.” Iwaizumi smirked and Oikawa glared at him.

“What happened?” Bokuto asked, trying to ease Kuroo’s nerves.

“He tripped in the middle of the runway, but he played it off pretty well because he still booked a job.”

“IWA-chan! You’re so mean. I’ve blocked that out of my memory.” Oikawa playfully pinched his boyfriend in the side.

“Don’t be so mean to other models, dear. Oh! Our client, you know the one we had to cancel on today, is here. We should go make peace. Have fun you two.” Iwaizumi wrapped an arm around Oikawa’s shoulders and lead him away.

“We should thank Suga and Daichi for tonight too.” Bokuto laced his fingers with Kuroo and led him toward the center of the room. Suga’s eyes lit up and pulled Daichi through the crowd toward them.

“Kuroo, amazing job tonight!” Suga gave him a hug and gave one to Bokuto too. “Did you enjoy the show tonight?”

“I loved it! Tetsu’s outfits were of course my favorite, but I loved your concept and the music and lights. And having Kuroo lead off was an amazing surprise. Thank you so much for having him in your show.” Bokuto gushed again, squeezing Kuroo’s hand.

“Oh absolutely, I’ll definitely have him booked for future shows. He did fantastic and amped up the crowd for the show.” Suga grinned at Kuroo who relaxed a little more.

“Well, if you do book him in the future, I’d hope you call me first.” They turned to see the owner of the new voice and Bokuto’s eyes widened. He elbowed Kuroo in the ribs who only gave him a strange look, not comprehending what was happening. “Let me introduce myself, Akaashi Keiji, I’m an agent looking for a new model with promise.” He pulled out a couple business cards and handed them to Suga and Kuroo. “Kuroo-san, please send your portfolio and resume over to my office by Monday, if you’re interested. Great show, Sugawara-san and Kuroo-san, I think you and I will have a successful future.”

Kuroo recognized the name once he heard it and his eyes widened. Akaashi was elusive and exclusive, but every model he’d represented booked the best shows and photoshoots for the top companies around the world. Apparently, he had his eye on Oikawa and that’s why there was bad blood between Iwaizumi and himself. “Sir, it would be an honor. Thank you. Really, thank you so much.”

Akaashi smiled and bowed to them, “I’ll see you soon, then Kuroo-san.” He walked away, sending a smirk Iwaizumi’s way who had seen the exchange. He didn’t say the words, because that would be too petty, but it was all in his expression. ‘You and Oikawa better watch your backs’.

“I sat next to Iwaizumi during the fashion show and he told me all about Akaashi. BABE! This is incredible! I knew it was only a matter of time before someone else realized how amazing you are.” Bokuto threw his arms around Kuroo and showered his faced with little kisses.

Suga and Daichi laughed at the two of them. “This is huge, Kuroo, but you’ve earned. Oikawa might have been the star tonight, but you did amazing. The crowd, for not even knowing you, loved you. Akaashi better know that you owe everything to me so my shows should be a priority.”

“I’ll make sure he does.”

“Go celebrate, you two.” Daichi waved to them and started pulling Suga away. “Oh, Kuroo, I’ll send the photos from tonight over to you so you can use them in your portfolio. They’re stunning.”

“Thanks, Daichi!” Kuroo watched them go for a moment before he turned his attention back to Bokuto.

“Want to get some drinks and go make out in one of those dark booths in the back?” Bokuto grinned at Kuroo, reading his mind.

“You know it, love.” He grabbed a couple glasses of champagne of a tray before pulling Bokuto into the booth. They accepted a few congratulations on the way there, but didn’t stop for long. They didn’t care anymore. This night was about Kuroo and Bokuto celebrating his boyfriend in the best way he could. They spilled into the booth and their lips connected like magnets, both filled to brim with giddy excitement.

((Bonus future rivalry between Kuroo and Oikawa, it’s kinda unnecessary to the story, but I liked it anyway.))

Kuroo was on set, getting the finishing touches done on his outfit when he saw the familiar quaffed locks of his rival. He waited until the wardrobe assistants stepped back and give him a thumbs up before he strode over to Oikawa. “Well, look who finally decided to arrive on set. Thank you for gracing us with your presence, your majesty.” He gave Oikawa an overdramatized bow.

“Oh. Look what the cat dragged in.” Oikawa stopped in front of him and smirked. “Your outfit looks nice, too bad they couldn’t fix your face.”

Kuroo glared at him. “Too bad neither they can’t fix your awful personality.”

He crossed his arms and glared Kuroo down. “Y’know, if I knew you were going being an annoying shit, I never would have given you those pointers at Suga’s show. You were such a fan boy then. ‘OH Oikawa-san, I’m a big fan! I follow you on Instagram and I’ve seen all of your ad campaigns. This is my first show, I’m so nervous. I feel like I’ll fall off stage’.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, not fazed by Oikawa’s taunts. “I’m sorry, who booked more events in the past year? And in Suga’s most recent show whom opened up for whom? Were you the closer? No? Oh. Right, that was me.”

“You can’t count that one because you’re Suga’s friend. Also, you’re still a new novelty. It’ll wear off and people will get bored of you.”

“Hm, I don’t think so. I think it’s more, in with the new,” Kuroo pointed to himself. “And out with the old,” He finished, pointing at Oikawa.

“How dare you call me old news. You only got recognition at that show because they were all coming for me. I—”

“Tooru, wardrobe needs you now.”

Oikawa turned toward Iwaizumi and gave him a warm, loving smile. “Coming Iwa-cha!”

“Hah. Whipped.” Kuroo mocked.

“Tetsurou, your husband is here, go say a quick hi before you get your make up done. He texted me, wanting to visit you on set and I’m only letting him stay if he doesn’t distract you.” Akaashi walked over giving Iwaizumi a challenging look before pulling Kuroo away.

“KOU! Hi!” Kuroo skipped to Bokuto’s side giving him a long kiss. Oikawa had just arrived and still had to get wardrobe as well as makeup.

“You look hot as always, Tetsu.” Bokuto said after pulling back from the kiss.

“Koutarou, if you mess up any of his costume today, I’ll make you pay for it.” Akaashi warned but smiled at Bokuto. “Tetsurou be ready for make up in five.”

“Yes, boss!” Today’s shoot was for a photographer who had seen the way Kuroo and Oikawa acted together at a runway show. He said he loved their dynamic and would only shoot them if he could do one with them together. Akaashi reluctantly agreed because even though they were rivals, Kuroo and Oikawa photographed really well together. He was still beating Iwaizumi for having booked the higher paying gigs this year so he was satisfied.

((I saw them getting married in celebration of Kuroo’s stable career and Akaashi becomes so close to the couple, he’s basically part of their family.))

#bokuroo week 2017 #bokuroo week #day 7 #super late #t-shirt #modeling au #will be uploaded on AO3 #my writing #bokuroo #mentions of tsukikage #mentions of hinayama #mentions of iwaoi #mentions of daisuga #ficsforvera

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the-roadkill-cafe · 7 years

Text

Throwing a Stone In a River Part 4

Summary: When Sakura graduates from the academy, she suddenly finds her head invaded by the ghost of Uchiha Shisui. Her inner is gone, but not forgotten, and she struggles with impulse control more than ever before. But also, Shisui gives a lot of unsolicited advice - useful and otherwise - and does not shut the fuck up. He’s not thrilled about current events.

Rating: T

Author’s Notes: First of all, I’d like to thank @tozettewrites for allowing me use of her prompt and for coming up with the idea. The story would not exist without her. This story would also not exist without @jaycrowind, who cheered me on and nagged me as needed in order to get the writing done, only to immediately beta it for me so it looked presentable. Thank you so, so much. Thanks also to @phoenixyfriend, who became an impromptu sounding board and whom I bombarded with many many questions. Finally, thanks to @surfacage, who was probably very surprised when a random stranger popped up in their messages asking about Shisui, but very graciously answered my questions. Thanks for helping me out, and thanks for all the artwork you do for the Naruto fandom.

Chapter Tags/Warnings: discussion of suicide, discussion of eye trauma/gouging, manipulation, hallucinations, loss of bodily autonomy

If you think I've missed a tag or that one should be added, please let me know. Thanks!

Many many thanks to @jaycrowind for beta'ing, @elenathehun, @phoenixyfriend, and @jaycrowind for their ideas and suggestions, and @beyondthemoor for her cheerleading. They're responsible for pushing me into finishing this chapter.

Previous Part: Part 3

In the end, Sakura decided to compromise with Shisui and ordered lunch at a tempura stall, gratefully consuming a full plate’s worth of fried vegetables and shrimp. She still spitefully ordered a small bowl of anmitsu for dessert though and savored every morsel. If he didn’t like being in her slow body that liked to eat anmitsu, he could get out.

‘I really, really don’t think it works like that,’ Shisui paused. ‘I don’t even know how I got stuck inside you in the first place! Trust me, there are more interesting ways to be inside someone else’s body.’

‘What?’ Sakura blinked out into space, her spoon held half way between the bowl and her mouth.

‘Oh, oh shit, you’re like, twelve, right? Pretend you didn’t hear that. I mean, it’s not like you even know what it is-‘

Sakura cut Shisui off. ‘Did you just make a sex joke?’

‘It slipped out! I swear I’m not trying to be creepy.’

Sakura let Shisui stew in silence for a few moments. It wasn’t like the joke had been about her. Still, if the only way she had to make Shisui watch his mouth was by letting him think she thought he was a creepy pervert, she’d take it.

‘I,’ Sakura began once she thought he had waited long enough, ‘am not an idiot. I do in fact know what sex is.’

‘Are you sure about the first part? Because I could’ve sworn that you forgot to check if you could cut yourself loose from some ropes,’ he replied.

‘If you don’t shut up about that I’m going to order some dango for the walk back.’

‘Fine, geez, can’t make a joke around here…’

Sakura ignored him for the sake of her own sanity. All she wanted to do was enjoy her anmitsu in peace and maybe drink a gallon of water. She definitely didn’t want to spend her lunch bickering with a ghostly voice inside her head. If he even was a ghost, which she still wasn’t entirely convinced of.

The rest of her lunch would’ve passed without incident, except that after Sakura had paid her bill, she decided to use the bathroom. As she locked the stall behind her, it didn’t take her long to realize her conundrum.

‘Can…can you actually see what I see?’ Sakura asked, facing the stall door awkwardly.

Luckily for her dignity, Shisui seemed to recognize the problem immediately. ‘I…yeah. As long as your body can perceive it, I can too.’

Sakura fingered with the zipper to her dress as her face gradually grew warm. It shouldn’t be that difficult to use the bathroom with her eyes shut, right…?

‘I’ve definitely seen worse things in my life than a girl using the bathroom.’ Shisui said dryly.

‘That’s not the point! How am I supposed to use the bathroom with a boy in my head?!’ Sakura wailed. She fought the temptation to stomp her foot.

‘Well first you sit down on the toilet seat,’ Shisui began with a snide voice.

‘If you weren’t already dead I’d kill you myself,’ snapped Sakura. She glanced quickly around the stall and then determinedly shut her eyes.

‘Ooh, yes, I’m so terrified of a twelve year old genin.’

Sakura managed not to screech like a tea kettle, but it was a close thing. Instead she pulled on the zipper to her dress.

‘Should I hum or something?’

‘Be quiet, I’m busy trying to pretend you don’t exist.’

Several awkward minutes later, Sakura left the bathroom. She knew her face had to be clashing horribly with her hair but she couldn’t bring herself to calm down. That was the worst experience ever.

‘Let’s just…pretend this never happened,’ Shisui said.

Well at least they finally agreed on something for once. Then again, Sakura supposed it had to be equally uncomfortable for Shisui to be in a girl’s body, and one several years younger than him apparently, as it was for her to have a boy in her head.

Having plenty of time left before Kakashi expected her back at the training grounds, Sakura ambled back. At this point the double layered vision she had walking through the village was no longer surprising. Given the apparently supernatural nature of Shisui’s possession of her, Sakura supposed this might be her new normal.

‘Is what I’m seeing…your memories?’

‘I think so. It’s reasonable; you’re already getting some kind of bleed over from me,’ replied Shisui.

Sakura observed the faded, ghostly images with renewed interest. Depending on when Shisui died and how much older than her he was, she could gain a new insight on what the village looked like before disasters like the Kyuubi. As that thought came to mind, Sakura flicked her eyes to the horizon again, hoping to catch another glimpse of the dreaded bijuu. It wasn’t like she’d get another chance to see the now dead Kyuubi, and without fear of danger at that. Unfortunately for Sakura, the terrifying mirage did not appear.

For a moment Sakura was tempted to ask Shisui about the Kyuubi or even the Third Shinobi War, but just as the intent began to coalesce into actual words in her mind, an image of her parents, waking up exhausted from the nightmares they still had over a decade later surfaced. She grimaced. Shisui probably wanted to answer those kinds of questions just as much as her parents wanted to, which was to say, not at all.

Instead she asked, ‘So if you weren’t a desk chuunin but a jounin, what were your specializations? How were you usually deployed?’

‘My specializations changed based on who you talked to,’ Shisui said with a chuckle. ‘If I were to describe it…hmm, probably a kenjutsu user supplemented by mid-range ninjutsu and genjutsu. I was a burst melee front line shinobi, usually deployed for either assassinations or sabotage, though sometimes I also accompanied intelligence gathering missions as well, either as a specialist or as the muscle.’

If he had been a burst melee shinobi, it was no wonder he emphasized speed so much. Burst melee shinobi were unlike sustained melee shinobi in that, despite their strong offense, they couldn’t keep it up for extended periods of time. Whatever they chose to specialize in, all burst melee shinobi dispatched their enemies as quickly as possible. Depending on the squad, they either acted as a secondary offensive force to sustained melee shinobi, or they remained behind with medical squads and other support shinobi.

‘But why would other people not describe your specializations the same way?’

Shisui hummed thoughtfully. ‘Based on certain abilities I had, there were assumptions people made about what I was and wasn’t capable of doing, and how I preferred to fight. Other people had a tendency to think I focused more on either ninjutsu or genjutsu. I was no slouch, of course, but I knew others who were true masters in those areas. I’m much more generalized by comparison.’

Sakura frowned as she continued to make her way to the training grounds. The topic inadvertently turned Sakura’s thoughts away from asking Shisui more questions and towards her own team. Her quick mind glossed over what she knew of Kakashi, which was more than she thought. Yesterday she only knew that he was a weird shinobi that, despite all appearances, was definitely a part of the elite. Now she knew he was a former ANBU member and in spite of his smaller reserves of chakra, was considered a sustained melee shinobi that specialized in ninjutsu.

It was too soon for Sakura to tell what Naruto was going to choose to specialize in, but based on his stamina alone he would also be meant for ongoing combat. Sasuke at this point could choose to either be a solid all around mid to close range fighter, or focus on improving his ninjutsu, of which she knew he did the best in amongst their class. Which just left her. Sakura clenched her fists.

If nothing else, today highlighted that Sakura didn’t have much of anything that was useable in the field. She was the least physically capable of her team, not just in speed and strength but also in taijutsu; she had no ninjutsu whatsoever; genjutsu was a mystery…Sakura was becoming mortified to realize that the only thing she was good at was memorizing things and battle strategy and tactics. She was a paper ninja.

‘I’m…a terrible shinobi…’

‘Yeah,’ Shisui replied. ‘But a lot of genin are. That’s what training and your jounin instructor is for. Not everyone gets to start out as a talented genius.’

‘But where do I even start? I need to fix everything,’ Sakura said.

‘Well, you start with physical conditioning.’ Shisui paused. ‘Like getting faster.’

Sakura huffed out loud. ‘Ugh, how did I know you were going to say that?’

‘A strong body is the foundation to being a strong shinobi.’

She sulkily seated herself at the base of a tree in the wide training grounds Team 7 had trained in earlier. Naruto and Sasuke weren’t back yet, and if Kakashi was, she couldn’t sense him. Now that she had eaten and rested for awhile, she felt significantly better, though her legs still felt a little like jelly. It was as good a time as any to work through what direction she wanted to take her shinobi career. She flicked her thumbs back and forth while she thought.

As much as Shisui’s suggestion rankled, it was probably the best solution for now. Sakura didn’t have any idea what she wanted to be, as a shinobi. There was more to it than just taking missions and completing the objective. There were all the administrative shinobi, usually semi-retired or with career ending injuries, peppered with able-bodied shinobi to help defend the village in case of an attack. There was the medical corps, where she would have her choice of becoming a hospital medical ninja or a combat medical ninja. ANBU, the Academy, Intelligence, Research and Development…there were plenty of places for shinobi other than on the front lines.

‘It might help if you remember why you want to be a shinobi in the first place,’ said Shisui.

Sakura scowled at the air. ‘Can you not listen to my thoughts for five minutes? And why can you hear mine but I can’t hear yours anyway?’

‘Probably something to do with the Yin chakra. It’s the chakra of mental and spiritual energy. I’m not really an expert on it, like some fuinjutsu specialists, or the Yamanaka or Nara,’ Shisui answered. ‘I don’t exactly go looking through your memories or your thoughts, you know. They just appear. Especially your thoughts. Try meditating or something, maybe that will fix it.’

She dropped her head back against the tree. Physical training, meditation, none of that mattered if she didn’t also pick up a few jutsu along the way. Both of her parents had earth nature chakra, so she probably did too. Doton jutsu were good. They were mostly defensive, which would complement the offensive nature of her teammates. She should learn a few genjutsu too. She didn’t know if her parents knew much in the way of genjutsu, but they’d probably teach her some Doton ninjutsu if she asked and proved she was taking her shinobi training seriously.

But before she could follow that train of thought, she heard the faint sounds of bickering. It was soon followed by Naruto and Sasuke walking down the path. Sakura felt her brows rise. Did they actually eat together, or had they met each other on the way back? Either scenario was surprising. The fact that they were arguing was at least familiar to her.

Naruto waved when he saw her. “Oi! Sakura-chan! Are you ready for the mission?”

‘Mission?’ Sakura blinked. She reviewed the events before lunch and realized she didn’t actually know why Kakashi had asked them to return after lunch. At the time, Shisui had been criticizing her performance during training.

Naruto didn’t seem to notice her confusion. “Heh, this will be so easy. We won’t even need Sasuke. Between you and me, we’ll have this done in no time!”

“All you two would do is slow me down anyway. I’m better off doing it alone,” Sasuke said.

Sakura ignored her two teammates. She was sure at some point it’d get hammered into their skulls that they needed to work together as a team; no need for her to remind them.

‘I wonder what kind of mission we’re going to have.’

‘Something boring and awful. All missions for genin are terrible, it’s a fact of life,’ Shisui answered.

‘Oh yeah? What are they like?’ Sakura asked Shisui.

He made a non-committal noise. ‘Oh, you know, body retrieval, trap and bomb dismantling, chasing cats, that sort of thing. Just stuff that’s a pain in the ass but needs to be done.’

‘One of those things is not like the other, Shisui,’ Sakura said dryly. ‘You’re just messing with me, right? We’re not even in the middle of a war, there are no bodies to get from anywhere. Besides, Kakashi-sensei wouldn’t send three green genin out into an active battle zone, right? Shisui? Hey, I’m talking to y—’

Her internal tirade was cut off by Kakashi’s sudden appearance. Thankfully, he had foregone the chakra smoke this time. “Well, I see we all managed to get here on time. Hopefully you’ve had a full lunch, because we have quite the mission today. I made sure to get an extra special one, for our first time as a team.”

The three of them crowded a little closer to Kakashi. Naruto and Sasuke seemed excited, Naruto moreso than Sasuke, but Sakura found she couldn’t be with Shisui’s answer still weighing on her mind. She kept going over what she knew about various kinds of traps and how to properly disarm them, along with proper storage techniques for corpses.

Kakashi held up a scroll. “Today...” he paused dramatically, “we have been asked to finish roofing someone’s house.”

There was a beat of silence as they processed his words. Then almost as one their shoulders slumped, though Sakura’s did for reasons different than her teammates’.

“What? That’s crap!” Naruto shouted. “We should be doing something like defeating a corrupt daimyou and his army of samurai, or rescuing a princess! Not roofing someone’s house!”

Sasuke didn’t say anything but his expression clearly communicated his disgruntlement.

For her part, Sakura was relieved. Roofing sounded a little disappointing and not at all what she had been expecting but it was a better option than what Shisui had said.

‘I knew you were just joking,’ Sakura told Shisui.

‘You say that now,’ he replied.

“Maa, well, everyone needs to do their part, and sometimes your part is helping to repair someone’s house,” Kakashi replied. “A local construction crew has a few members out sick or otherwise unavailable, and they need more people to finish a client’s house. That’s where you three come in.”

“This is really a mission that genin take?” Sasuke asked dubiously. His brow furrowed as he crossed his arms. As Sakura glanced at him, an image of a small, slightly chubby, sulky Sasuke superimposed itself over her teammate. Her lips twitched and she felt a sudden swell of affection and nostalgia. She had the vague impression that he had hardly changed at all.

“It’s not just a mission genin take – it’s the mission you’re all going to complete.” Kakashi’s mask shifted as he smiled. She didn’t trust it for one second. There had to be a catch.

Fifteen minutes later, and Sakura found out that the catch was that the construction crew wasn’t just missing a few people – everyone but the manager had skipped out of work for the last few days and Team 7 had to do the majority of the work and have it finished by the following day. The house in question was a typical home of Konoha, with one flat section of roof for shinobi to run across and the rest gently sloping towards the ground for rain runoff. They learned this in between the manager’s profuse apologies and angry side comments about his unreliable crew.

“I’m sorry for such short notice, shinobi-san,” the craggy-faced manager said. “You just can’t trust those lazy Wave bastards that have been flocking here lately. My apologies for the language, sweetheart.” The last bit he directed at Sakura.

“It’s no trouble at all, Iwase-san. My team is ready for the work; they’ll have it finished in no time,” Kakashi reassured the man.

He bowed in response. “You shinobi are a bit pricey, but I hear great things about you lot. Finish it up today, and you’ll be getting my crews’ paychecks.”

“We’ll be sure to do an excellent job. You heard Iwase-san, kids. Get to work,” Kakashi said.

The three of them began to fasten the tool kits that were scattered around and nimbly climb up the ladders to the roof of the house. Just as Sakura was nearly at the top, she heard Iwase-san talking to Kakashi.

“Are you sure that little miss should be up there?”

Kakashi, however, had already pulled out his book and was reading it without a care in the world. “Hm?”

“I mean, shouldn’t she be doing more delicate work? Like bringing the boys some refreshments?”

On the roof, as Sakura pulled off sections of old tile, she felt her blood boil. She had gone through the same exact training as Sasuke and Naruto at the Academy, and had passed the same test. She was as much of a shinobi as they were. As she pulled up a particularly stubborn piece of tile, she imagined it was Iwase’s face.

‘I’ll show him delicate work!’ Sakura scowled down at the roof.

‘Easy now. You can’t actually kill your client. Calm down and work out your frustration later; save your energy for the mission,’ said Shisui.

‘I don’t need you to tell me that!’ She snapped.

The internal exchange caused her to miss Kakashi’s response, if there was any, but she didn’t miss the way Naruto looked from Iwase to her.

He shuffled closer. “Oi, Sakura-chan. That roof guy is right; it’s okay if you don’t want to help us fix this stupid house. I know girls get tired faster and you’ve trained hard already today. You can just relax because I’ll have this done in no time!”

Sakura flushed with shame and embarrassment. ‘Even Naruto thinks I can’t do this!’

She glanced at Sasuke to see his reaction. There was no way he hadn’t heard Naruto’s words. Naruto’s lowest volume was only just short of a full yell after all.

But Sasuke only started working on his section of the roof, ignoring them entirely. She bit her lip. Did that mean Sasuke agreed with Naruto? Or was it that he thought she could work on her own? Sakura wilted.

‘So you’re just going to give up?’ Shisui prodded. ‘I thought you were going to prove your client wrong?’

Sakura gritted her teeth and gripped the tool kit hard between her hands. As much as she hated to admit it, Shisui was right. She was tired, true, but she hated giving up even more than she wanted to skip their ridiculous mission.

“That’s okay Naruto,” Sakura finally said, smiling a poisonously sweet smile. “If you can manage not to let your stupidity stop you from being a shinobi, I’m sure being a girl won’t keep me from finishing this mission.”

She leaned in close and dropped her smile as she grabbed his jacket. “Now if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll throw you off the roof.” Then she shoved him away from her so she could start roofing.

As she worked, her foul mood only increased. The respite given to her from lunch only lasted her so long. Before Sakura knew it, she was exhausted and her limbs were trembling with strain. It turned out roofing was really hard work. Not only that, the temperature peaked as the sun reached high overhead. There was no breeze to provide relief and Sakura refused to be the first to ask for a quick break. Sweat dripped down her face and arms, causing her to stop every few minutes to wipe it away.

Nearby, it seemed Sasuke and Naruto had similar thoughts. Both worked relentlessly, and every few tiles they pulled up, they would glance up to check the other’s progress before throwing themselves back into it at a seemingly faster pace than before. Sakura huffed to herself. Boys. She couldn’t deny that their rivalry was going to help them finish the mission faster, but they were also going to exhaust themselves. On a real mission, they’d get themselves killed.

‘Now that’s the way you should be thinking during a mission.’

‘That’s enough out of the peanut gallery.’

In short order, the three genin were collecting small stacks of new tile to nail into the roof. Their collective poor mood had only grown as Kakashi and Iwase both sat in the shade, one drinking from a canteen of undoubtedly icy water and the other reading and occasionally giggling to himself. It was with this cloud hanging over them that things finally came to an explosive head when Sasuke brushed into Naruto, causing him to slip on the roof and drop his stack of tiles.

“Hey, bastard! You did that on purpose!” Naruto shouted as his tiles clattered to the ground below.

Sakura rolled her eyes and knelt down to start hammering in the wood tiles. It was about time they started fighting; they could hardly go a few hours without it.

“Don’t blame me for your incompetence,” Sasuke snapped. “You can do that all on your own.”

Naruto stepped closer into Sasuke’s space. Sakura eyed them warily. An argument was one thing, but they weren’t actually going to have a fist fight on a roof, were they?

“You bumped into me and made me drop my tiles because I’m beating you. I’m not stupid!” he insisted.

‘That’s debatable,’ Sakura thought uncharitably.

‘No need to be so mean, Sakura.’

Shisui sounded awfully amused for someone who was telling her not to be mean to her teammates. In the background, Naruto and Sasuke continued to argue.

Sakura diligently hammered in her tiles one by one. Even though it was beginning to cool at long last, she was completely covered in sweat, making her job difficult. She cursed as the hammer slid in her slippery hand and she hit her thumb.

She sucked her thumb and hissed when she pulled it out to peer down at it. It was a bright angry red and throbbed in time with her heart beat. As she finally considered stopping for some water and to ice her finger, the voices of her teammates crescendoed.

‘Sakura, duck!’

‘What?’

Sakura looked up instinctively at Shisui’s warning. She had just enough time to take in Sasuke dodging a tile that Naruto had flung at him before it hit her squarely on her accursed forehead.

Sakura reeled almost drunkenly, stars bursting across her vision. She tipped backwards and began to slide down towards the edge of the roof. Only some reflexive instinct had her flailing and grasping at the roof until her balance recovered enough for her to ensure she wouldn’t fall off.

There were twin surges of anger inside her and she was caught between the urge to clutch her head and do something about her teammates. A barely coherent impression of ‘those damn brats!’ and the burning desire to hurt them decided it for her and before she knew what she was doing, Sakura grabbed one of her own tiles and threw it with unerring accuracy at Naruto. He yelped when it connected with his chest and the force of it knocked him on his behind. A nasty part of her wished he had fallen off the roof.

In her head, Shisui was a fuzzy, static ball of irritation that made her aching head feel that much worse, which was compounded by her still throbbing thumb. Her other hand twitched with a need to punch her teammates that was not entirely her own.

“You moron!” Sakura’s voice was ragged as she struggled not to scream. “You hit me in the head!”

Naruto staggered to his feet. “H-hey, Sakura-chan, it was just an accident, I didn’t mean to—”

Sakura cut him off. “What did I tell you about leaving me alone?” She too climbed to her feet and started stalking towards Naruto.

Down below, Iwase was watching the exchange warily.

“Hey, shinobi-san, I think you need to do something about your kids. That little miss looks like she’s ready to murder someone,” he said.

Kakashi hummed a bit, unconcerned. “I’m sure they’ll sort it out. These sorts of things happen all the time with new teams.”

Back on the roof, Sakura seized Naruto’s ear. She twisted it roughly as she pulled him towards the edge of the roof, her temper lending her strength.

“No, Sakura-chan, don’t throw me off the roof!” Naruto squealed, his voice breaking on the high pitch.

“Too bad!” She snarled.

As she strode towards the edge, her foot kicked Sasuke’s tiles.

“Hey!” Sasuke jerked as his tiles went tumbling down the roof to the ground below.

‘This is going to be such a disaster.’

‘Shut up, I’ve had it with everyone!’

“Don’t get me caught up in your stupidity,” Sasuke continued.

Sakura stopped. “This wouldn’t have happened if you two weren’t so stupid.” She insisted. She tightened her grip as Naruto tried to squirm out of her hold.

“Don’t blame me because you’re too slow to dodge a brick.” Sasuke’s hands clenched and unclenched reflexively. He didn’t seem to know if it was appropriate to grab her the way he would Naruto. Or maybe he was just trying to keep himself from shaking her. Sakura bared her teeth. The way she was feeling, she wished he would. She would throw him off the roof too.

And then his words registered. For a moment, all seemed to go silent. And then she heard Shisui snicker in her head.

“I’m not slow!” she roared.

She lunged towards Sasuke with her free hand. She should’ve known better; he was far more agile than she, and dodged her easily. What he failed to account for was the slant of the roof. As he tilted backwards dangerously, his arms began to pinwheel. At the sight, Sakura momentarily forgot her anger.

“Sasuke-kun!”

His hand grabbed her shirt. The three of them only had a split second to stare and realize the coming consequences before Sasuke’s weight pulled them all over the edge of the roof.

The three of them lay tangled together, wheezing and groaning in a pile of limbs. Sakura had been lucky; she landed across Naruto and Sasuke, both of whom had taken the brunt of the fall, along with her weight.

“I think you ripped my ear off,” Naruto whimpered.

“You deserve it, moron,” Sasuke snapped back.

Sakura kicked her foot without seeing who she was aiming at. “Both of you, shut up.”

‘I told you this was going to be a disaster.’

‘You can shut up too.’

A shadow fell over them. Sakura looked up to see Kakashi staring down at them. “Now what have we all learned today?” he asked them brightly.

The three of them stared at Kakashi, all simmering with resentment and loathing.

“If you don’t learn to work together as a team,” Kakashi said, “you’re going to fall off a roof.”

Sakura rolled off Naruto and Sasuke and left them to figure out how to untangle themselves. She had a roof to finish and she planned on going home sometime today. Sasuke and Naruto soon followed her, and they resumed their work in stony silence.

By the time they finished, lunch was little more than a daydream and Sakura’s stomach was a gnawing pit of hunger, desperate for dinner. But the house was completely roofed and their client was pleased. Sakura might have felt more of a sense of accomplishment when she was handed her cut of the mission pay if her body weren’t aching everywhere.

Kakashi clapped his hands with faux cheer as he considered them all. “This has been such an illuminating day, hasn’t it? I think we’ve all learned a lot.”

‘I learned a lot about how much I want to punt my teammates all the way across the continent,’ Sakura grumped to herself.

“You’ve all worked very hard today and I look forward to seeing the same effort tomorrow,” Kakashi said, his solitary eye crinkling. In it, Sakura swore she saw the depths of hell. “So I will see you tomorrow at six am sharp.”

He reached out to ruffle hers and Naruto’s hair. As his hand reached towards her, panic suddenly spiked in her throat. She saw an image of someone else’s fingers moving towards her, grasping at her eye. Or was it her own hand? Blood was dripping down her face and she could hear water and she couldn’t stop the hand she was going to lose her eye no no no no

Sakura broke out of her paralysis and slapped away Kakashi’s hand. It hovered in the air for a moment and she could clearly sense his surprise. And then he let it fall away and acted as if she hadn’t done anything at all.

“Bye now.” With a wave, Kakashi disappeared.

Naruto and Sasuke were staring at her. She swallowed hard underneath their scrutiny. “It’s just been such a long day, and I didn’t want him messing up my hair,” she laughed weakly, trying to play off her sudden panic.

“Your hair is already a mess from sweating all day,” Sasuke pointed out bluntly.

“Well it’s not like I know where his hands have been or anything!” Sakura said as she grasped for excuses. “So, I have to get home now. See you tomorrow, Sasuke-kun! And you too, Naruto,” she added as an afterthought. With that, she dashed off into the darkening night.

Her jelly legs and bone deep exhaustion made the trip home longer than usual, but when Sakura came home, the house was filled with the smell of dinner. Her mouth watered in response.

Shisui chanted an unending litany of ‘food food food’ as the smell registered for him as well. She rolled her eyes. He was awfully concerned about food for a guy who was dead.

‘It tastes good,’ he said defensively. ‘I don’t need to be alive to appreciate the finer things in life.’

‘You are going to be murder on my weight loss plan,’ Sakura said.

Thankfully for her sanity, Shisui quieted down again when she sat down for dinner. She was able to make it through the meal and some conversation with her parents peacefully, and in fact she was almost able to forget that there was a ghost in her head. Instead, she got to be a normal twelve year old, complaining to her parents about her awful team and her weird jounin instructor.

After dinner, Sakura trudged upstairs for the bath. One of her parents had already drawn it earlier, so all Sakura had to do was wash herself off before she could relax in its soothing warmth.

Of course, once she was in the bathroom, she found herself facing the same dilemma as she had earlier that day, but even worse.

‘How am I supposed to take a bath with you in my head?’

‘Try closing your eyes again?’ Shisui suggested. Sakura groaned into her hands.

‘I can’t just close my eyes the entire time I take a bath.’ Sakura dropped her head against the wall.

‘Well, you can either get over it and take a bath, or just never take one ever again and reek for the rest of your life,’ he said.

Sakura shifted in place. It wasn’t that different from public bathhouses. There were some that didn’t separate by gender, even in Konoha. And she really wanted to soak before she went to bed.

‘Fine. But don’t you dare make fun of what I look like, or I’ll eat anmitsu for the rest of this week.’

Sakura stripped off her clothes and Shisui remained blissfully quiet. She paused while she folded her clothes, feeling suspicious of his obliging silence, but nothing was forthcoming. A few seconds later she was seated on the low stool and scrubbing away the day’s grime and sweat. Underneath the warm spray, her muscles loosened gratefully.

Once she was properly washed off, Sakura climbed into the deep bath tub and let herself relax and start to contemplate the day’s events. She stared unseeing at the pale islands that were her knees. Water dripped down her back from her pinned hair. The combination of water and her lowered guard resulted in a deluge of thoughts that weren’t her own.

-the clan never had a chance to begin with, he had been working against them the entire time-

-his hand ripped out his eye while he used the other one to brutally beat his body-

-he wasn’t one of the prized shinobi of the clan for nothing, and he needed to get away to warn him-

-no one could have his other eye, it was too dangerous-

Suddenly the impressions seemed to jerk inside her head and then Shisui’s presence seemed to expand in her head.

‘What did you just see?’ his voice was dark and heavy with intent. Sakura pulled her legs close as she processed the mental images. She had known all along, hadn’t she, that someone had hurt Shisui very badly before he died.

‘I said, what did you see? Tell me now Sakura,’ he demanded.

Sakura ignored his words. ‘Who…,’ she swallowed. ‘Who ripped out your eye, Shisui?’

His mental presence seemed to break in an odd way that Sakura instinctively associated with shock. It solidified again and this time was a nearly impenetrable wall that hid thoughts behind it which Sakura could not discern.

When he spoke again, his voice was hard and even, and for the first time she really believed he was a jounin. ‘What makes you think someone took my eye?’

‘I saw it,’ she answered in a small voice. ‘And then… and then you gave the ANBU boy your other eye. You…’ She furrowed her brow as she recalled her nightmare.

‘You told him he was your best friend and that you were giving it to him for safe keeping.’ Sakura’s voice became shrill as her horror mounted. ‘You gave him your eye! And then you jumped into the Naka River! I saw it!’

‘You saw how I died?’ Shisui pressed.

‘It was a little confusing; I had a nightmare about it, it was so awful, I couldn’t move at all except to pull my left eye out and give it to the boy. But I didn’t see very well what happened before then.’ Sakura hesitated a little. Shisui sounded slightly calmer. It was no wonder that his death was a sensitive topic. ‘Shisui… would you like to talk about it? Is that why you came back? To get revenge on the person who took your eye?’

Shisui’s presence remained impassive for a long time, so long in fact, that Sakura thought that maybe he hadn’t heard her or had fallen asleep. And then she felt him sort of shudder, or maybe ripple, and then she felt grief begin to emanate from him as his mental presence shrank in on itself.

‘I… forgive me, Sakura, I just can’t talk about it. It’s too difficult. Please, let it alone.’

‘Oh.’ There was a part of Sakura that wanted to keep pushing. What about the ANBU boy with Shisui’s other eye? Why did Shisui feel the need to commit suicide? And surely he would want to confront the person responsible for hurting him in the first place? Then again, the only way Shisui could do that was through her, and if this person could maim a jounin and escape, then killing her would be too easy.

Shisui’s plea struck a chord in her. It was clear his death was too new and he hadn’t come to grips with it. It probably bothered him that she was reliving it. It seemed like it was a private, intimate thing, and here was Sakura, watching it and picking at the scabs with hardly a care at all for how Shisui might feel about it.

‘I’m sorry,’ she offered lamely.

‘It’s fine. How about you just go to sleep now. You have to wake up early tomorrow, after all.’ With Sakura’s acquiescence to Shisui’s request, his voice became normal again and no longer the oppressive thing it was before.

Sakura made a noise of agreement. She climbed out of the tub and proceeded to finish her nightly routine.

Eventually she made it into her bed, collapsing into it with a grateful sigh. She could only imagine what kind of awful training and missions would be in store for her tomorrow. And that was before Naruto did something stupid to make things worse or Shisui started in on his nagging comments. She curled up beneath her covers and closed her eyes. But for now, sleep.

Not long afterward, the nightmares started.

#roadkill writes #throwing a stone in a river #haruno sakura #uchiha shisui #sakura ft shisui

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freudensteins-monster · 7 years

Text

Bella Notte

@cinnaatheart said: Heya! For the promt meme! Enamour me, with either Darcy x Natasha, Darcy x Bucky or Darcy x Sam :D :D up to you what you wanna do ❤️❤️❤️

I defaulted to Wintershock because I don't feel like my Natasha or my Sam are up to snuff. Hope that's okay. Also... it's definitely not a drabble per the original fic prompt post :/

** In this fic, instead of JARVIS or FRIDAY, I have used an AI called TADASHI. During Age of Ultron, when Stark is rebooting his suit's AI following the creation of Vision/loss of JARVIS, Tony is seen to have a number of AI programs on his desk. He picks FRIDAY as his new AI but there was also one called JACOSTA and one called TADASHI. And being the Big Hero 6 fan that I am I really wanted to use that one, not that he's got much of a personality in this fic. :/ Maybe next time. **

Bucky was happy to learn upon waking that the Sokovia Accords had been dissolved, pending a major overhaul, and that Steve and Stark were on speaking terms again (nothing like another alien invasion to get everyone on the same side) but he was still surprised to be invited to join the Avengers at Stark’s upstate facility. It wasn’t until the man himself called and told him ‘to get your ass over there already. Rogers won’t stop sulking,’ and ‘No, we don’t have to talk about it. You’re sorry, I’m less sorry. Let there be no further talk of feelings,’ that Bucky finally agreed to return stateside.

Per an agreement his Wakandan lawyers had made with the UN, and various military bodies around the world, Bucky would be on house arrest at the facility, unable to step outside the boundaries of the property until such time as his prolific assassination record had been sifted through and he was finally cleared of all charges (his lawyers were optimistic and very, very good). Bucky hadn’t minded as he was tired of running, and the glorified prison would be bearable if he got to properly reconnect with Steve, but when he landed the punk was nowhere in sight.

Bucky blinked in the sunlight as he walked down the quinjet ramp, his grey- blue eyes quickly scanning the large hanger for a familiar face.

“Sergeant Barnes?” a female voice called out. Bucky turned and saw a young woman with wavy brown hair and black-rimmed glasses making her way over to him. “Hi, I’m Darcy,” she smiled, offering him her hand. He took it hesitantly, his eyes still darting about to locate Steve. “I’m sorry, Captain Rogers isn’t here right now. The call came in to save the world early this morning, you know how it is,” she rambled apologetically.

“Not really,” Bucky murmured.

“Okay, well,” the girl, Darcy, sighed. “Since my time is the least valuable of anyone here I have been tasked with showing you around,” she said with a hint of bitterness, though not directed at him. “Do you want the full tour or just the CliffNotes version?”

“I don’t wanna waste your time, doll.”

Darcy’s mouth quirked at the outdated endearment as her eyes dropped to the tablet in her hands.

“You’re not,” she assured him. “Stark is. He thinks I ate all his blueberries, so this is my punishment.”

“Did you eat all his blueberries?”

“That’s between me and my legal counsel,” she replied vaguely, a smile playing on her lips. “Speaking of… I’m supposed to go over the terms of your house arrest, but I’m sure you’ve already read this,” she said, holding up the tablet to show him a screens worth of fine print.

“Basically don’t go anywhere and don’t kill anyone.”

“That does seem to be the jist of it,” she nodded, closing the document. “Come on, I’ll show you where the food is,” she said, leading him away from the hanger to the main building. Along the way she described the function of the other buildings and showed him where the Avengers trained. The residential building was definitely designed by Stark, far too sleek and minimalist to feel homey, but he had been welcomed to stay – free of charge – and it was a hell of a lot nicer than most of the places Bucky had ever laid his head, so he wasn’t about to turn his nose up at it.

“So this is the common area, communal kitchen and dining area. Help yourself to anything in the fridge, and let TADASHI know if we’re running low on anything.”

“Who’s Tadashi?”

“TADASHI is an AI that Tony set up for the facility. JARVIS was absorbed into Vision, and FRIDAY has her hands full looking after Tony, so he left TADASHI with us. But he’s just a baby program, he’s still learning and definitely isn’t at JARVIS’s level yet, not that means anything to you, because you never met JARVIS,” she added, waving a hand dismissively. “Hello TADASHI,” she called to the ceiling and Bucky couldn’t help but follow her gaze.

“Hello Miss Lewis,” replied a stilted voice through the ceiling speakers. The voice spoke English with the slightest Japanese accent, but it was most definitely a digital creation.

“Yeah, he’s a little creepy at the moment,” Darcy whispered, seemingly reading his mind. “But don’t worry, before the year is out I’m gonna have him sounding like George Takei.” Before Bucky had a chance to confirm who that was (pop culture knowledge had not been a priority during his time under HYDRA’s thumb) Darcy had turned her attention back to ceiling. “TADASHI, this is Sergeant Barnes. Sergeant Barnes, this is TADASHI.”

“You can call me Bucky,” he advised both of them.

“Welcome Sergeant Barnes. I’m afraid I cannot update your name in my system without an administrator’s assistance.”

“Thank you, TADASHI,” Darcy said to the ceiling before turning her attention back to Bucky. “Don’t bother,” she advised. “Only Tony can update Avenger files, and if you bring his attention to it he’s going to change it to something stupid. Steve’s only just got Tony to get TADASHI to stop calling him ‘Capsicle’.” Bucky smirked. “So, unlike JARVIS and FRIDAY, TADASHI can’t really predict our needs. His main function is to monitor the security systems and the energy readings from the arc reactor that powers everything. He can relay messages across the facility, and if you let him know when we’re out of milk or if you need a new pair of shoes or something, he can place the order you.”

“Amazing,” Bucky murmured as he glanced up at the ceiling, trailing behind Darcy as she continued the tour.

“Down there is a conference room and some offices, Steve and Maria are the only ones who really use those though. And these here are the apartments,” she announced, rattling off the Avengers names, tapping on the doors, as she passed by. “And this is your room,” she said, pushing open the door. “Steve is just across the hall.”

Bucky stepped inside, surveying the generous if bland space, unconsciously noting access points, defensible positions, and decent hiding places for a go bag or weapons cache. Not that he was permitted any weapons outside the firing range, per his agreement.

“Do you live on site?” he asked conversationally, trying to take his mind off the slightly claustrophobic feeling the empty space was giving him.

“Yeah, downstairs on the south corner. Closer to the science building so I don’t have to walk too far after a science bender.”

“What exactly is it you do here?” Bucky asked, his brow creasing in confusion.

“Umm, I’m kind of like the manager of the science department,” she supplied awkwardly, averting her gaze.

“You run the science department?” Bucky asked, her answer surprising him.

“Not really… sort of…” she mumbled, hugging her tablet to her chest.

“You’re what? Twenty? And you’re running the science department of the Avengers facility? That’s pretty damn impressive,” he added sincerely. “How’d you end up here, if you don’t mind me asking?

“I’m twenty-five, first of all, and, um, I actually majored in Political Science,” she winced, expecting further questions, but Bucky just let her talk. “I was interning for Doctor Jane Foster to earn some hard science credits when Thor crash landed – you know Thor, right?”

“Not personally.”

“Yeah, well, he’s amazing, and his arrival kind of revolutionised Jane’s research. I stuck around after I graduated, because where the hell else would I go? I mean, Asgardians, aliens, portals to other worlds… that’s not the sort of thing you can just forget about, you know?”

“Sure…” Bucky nodded. He had always been a bit of a geek, and not even all the time he spent as a science experiment could dull his interest.

“So when Tony asked Jane if she wanted take up some lab space here, I tagged along. I was supposed to be Jane’s assistant but Tony found her a few lab tech’s who actually understood her work, so I focused on the caretaking aspects of the job, because Heimdall knows that Jane and scientists like her can totally forget about basic human needs when they’re in the zone. Before I knew it I was looking after half the building, making sure they all ate regularly, got some shut eye, and socialised with other humans – I couldn’t get them to talk about anything other than science, but I tried,” she smiled. “And then Pepper Potts herself came up just to talk to me about giving me an official job. So now I look after the entire science department and have a few assistants of my own to help me feed and water the scientists. I also work with TADASHI to keep all their research secure, field correspondence from outside parties, and ensure they have all the resources and equipment they need to do their work.”

“That’s… that’s amazing. It sounds like it’s a huge job… and I’m keeping you from it,” he realised, rubbing his hands against the pockets of his jeans self-consciously.

“It’s fine, really,” Darcy waved dismissively.

“No, it’s not. I’m really sorry, Darcy. Please, you can go back to work. I’ll be fine.”

By the look on Darcy’s face she didn’t believe him but she decided to take him at his word and began backing out of the room. She turned back at the doorway, her expression softening as she watched Bucky fidget nervously, unsure what to do with himself in the strange space.

“Hey, did you… Did you want to maybe come with me?”

“To the science building?”

“No, to the moon,” she teased. “Yes, to the science building. I mean, I’ll be pretty busy but you can check out some of the work going on and I can introduce you to some people.”

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky replied bashfully. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

When Steve and Sam returned to base later that night they trudged wearily to the residential building. Well, Sam trudged. Steve bounded towards it like a puppy, excited to see his friend again.

“Bucky!” he called the moment he stepped into the building. He was about to ask TADASHI to locate him but the smell wafting from the kitchen held his tongue and made his mouth water. “Bucky?”

“Hey punk, took you long enough,” Bucky smirked from his position in front of the stove, stirring something that smelled absolutely delicious.

“Buck… what are you doing?” Steve wondered aloud. “That smells like…”

“Your mom’s stew?” he smiled. “That’s what I was aiming for. I think I remembered the recipe correctly,” he mused.

“What brought this on?” Steve queried, unable to wipe the smile from his face as he pulled Bucky in for a hug.

“Well, I was helping out in the cafeteria, peeling potatoes and what not, when I remembered my mom’s cooking, and your mom’s cooking, and I thought it’d be nice,” Bucky said with a shrug.

“What smells so good?” Sam asked, appearing behind Steve.

“Bucky’s cooking,” Steve answered.

“No kidding. Barnes,” he nodded in greeting.

“Wilson,” Bucky replied, the oven timer distracting him from the urge to start bickering with the man. “That’d be the bread,” he said, pulling the tin out with his metal hand.

“You made bread too?” Sam asked in amazement.

“I had time,” Bucky shrugged again.

“Buck, what were you doing helping out in the cafeteria?” Steve pestered, still not quite getting his head around what he was seeing and smelling.

“Darcy was showing me around the science building, but she was busy so I thought I’d help out her assistants with the lunch run. And I noted that Michel, the chef, was understaffed so when I was finished in the science building I offered my services.”

“That’s… Buck, we don’t expect you to earn your keep, you know. Tony’s not going to kick you out,” Steve assured him.

“Let the man cook!” Sam chided, eying the bowls Bucky was spooning stew into hungrily.

“What was I supposed to do? Wait quietly in my room for you to come back?” Bucky asked irritably, passing a bowl to Steve. “Sit down, punk. Enjoy your meal. You too,” he added, placing a bowl into Sam’s grabby hands.

Bucky cut several slices of bread and placed most of them on the table between the two Avengers, along with a tub of butter. He took the third bowl and two slices of buttered bread and put them on a tray and made to leave the room.

“You’re not going to eat with us?” Steve asked, almost felling Bucky with his puppy dog eyes.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he promised. “Just going to take this to Darcy.”

“Darcy?” the pair asked, amused smiles playing on their lips.

“Only here a day and you’ve already found yourself a girl,” Steve laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It’s not like that,” Bucky griped, ignoring their teasing. “She’s working late, and it’s my fault; she wasted her morning showing me around. I wanted to apologise… and thank her,” he said, turning to leave the room.

“I’m gonna be best man at your wedding, right?” Steve called after him.

“Make sure there’s an open bar,” Sam added before the pair burst out laughter.

Bucky dropped off the meal to a very grateful Darcy and then reluctantly returned to the dining room to endure another half hour of mockery while he ate his own dinner. Once Steve and Sam had stopped laughing they called it a night, both in need of a shower and a good night’s sleep. Bucky did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, taking his time as to delay returning to his empty room.

He sat on the end of the bed, deliberating about what to do next. He didn’t want to sleep, not that he was tired, and wasted several minutes inspecting his room from top to bottom. The wardrobe had been stocked with some basics, and when Bucky spied the pair of running shoes in his at the bottom of it he changed into some sweatpants and pulled them on.

He’d been running laps around the facility for about an hour when he slowed to a jog and made his way back to the residential wing.

“Bucky?”

“Hey, Darcy…” he puffed.

“What are you doing? It’s late.”

“I could ask you the same thing?” he deflected.

“I had work to do. Got caught up and then got a head start on tomorrow. What’s your excuse?” she asked, deliberately putting the spotlight back on him. “You don’t like your room?” she ventured cautiously as they headed into the building.

“It’s nice… but it’s just… It’s too empty, too bland,” he admitted, ducking his head. “It reminds me of every other empty room I’ve been stuck in… just waiting for orders.”

“I’m sorry,” Darcy murmured, rubbing his arm in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. “Just… try and get through tonight and tomorrow you can decorate it however you like, make it a home.”

“With what?” Bucky asked bitterly. “I ain’t got nothing to make it a home, doll.”

“You’ll think of something,” she said soothingly. “And I’ll help you out on the weekend. We can do some online shopping.”

“Don’t put yourself out on my account, doll. You don’t need to go wasting your free time on me too.”

“I want to,” she swore. “Besides, I’m an excellent interior designer,” she declared, throwing open a door that Bucky hadn’t been aware they’d stopped in front of. Darcy walked in and flicked on a light, ushering Bucky inside.

Bucky’s jaw dropped. It was a mess. The unmade bed was a mess of colour, the floor was a mess of clothes, the walls were covered in posters, and books littered every other available surface.

“Well,” Bucky swallowed. “It definitely looks lived in.”

Darcy laughed, “I know, right? Does that mean you’ll let me help?”

Bucky closed his mouth, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Sure, doll. I’d appreciate it.”

“Alrighty then. Sunday, 11am. You make brunch and I’ll bring Tony’s credit card.”

“It’s a deal,” he smiled, shaking Darcy’s outstretched hand.

He smiled all the way back to his own room, but delayed sleep just that little bit longer by taking a long shower. Eventually he ran out of excuses and lay down on the bed. Immediately he noticed that something wasn’t quite right with his mattress and after a quick search he discovered a housewarming present from Natasha, who was away on a mission in parts unknown; a Glock 26 and an anodized Gerber Mk II knife. Bucky put them back, ensuring they were still in easy reach, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

Bucky kept himself busy the next day, which was easy between catching up with Steve and helping out in the cafeteria. When the end of the day drew closer Bucky got a bit anxious but then Vision and Wanda returned from their own mission and Bucky decided to make dinner again (lasagne and garlic bread). Afterwards Wanda and Vision excused themselves but Steve and Sam invited him to join them in the common room where they spent a few hours watching movies from Steve’s “things I need to see” list. Eventually they called it a night as well and Bucky reluctantly headed to his room. It was too late to go for a run without looking like a complete weirdo, not to mention worrying Steve, but there was always the gym downstairs, he mused as he reached his door.

He flicked on the light and froze. His plain white bedding had been replaced with a dark blue duvet and light grey sheets, and a silver and grey knitted blanket had been draped over the end. On the wall beside the light switch was a poster from the 1943 Stark Expo, on his bedside table was a framed photograph of him and Steve, and hanging over the bed was a huge photograph of the night sky. He wandered over in a daze, peeling off a folded piece of paper that had been taped to the corner of the frame.

Hey Bucky!

We’re still on for Sunday, I swear, it’s just this was so much more fun than doing a stocktake of lab supplies. :P I hope you like it and I really hope that I didn’t overstep. :(

P.S. Jane printed this out for me. She assures me that this is what the stars looked like the night you were born.

P.P.S. I put your weapons in the top drawer of your bedside table. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to put them back without hurting the mattress, or myself. :P

See you Sunday, if not sooner.

- Darcy

Bucky smiled, turning in a circle to admire the new additions to the room and huge difference they made.

“Uh, TADASHI?” he asked the ceiling, hoping it worked and that he wasn’t just talking to himself.

“Yes Sergeant Barnes?”

“Can you tell Darcy ‘thank you’?”

“Of course, Sergeant Barnes. … … Miss Lewis asked me to tell you, ‘You’re very welcome’.”

Over the next couple of days Bucky developed a comfortable routine, splitting his time between helping out in the cafeteria and the labs, training with the Avengers, and hanging out with Steve. Sunday came around quickly and Darcy stumbled into the common area in plaid pyjama pants and a band t-shirt, tablet in hand, just as Bucky was plating up a frittata.

“That smells amazing,” Darcy murmured as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“If you had a late night, doll, you could’ve slept in. I would have understood.”

“It wasn’t that exactly,” she mumbled, practically worshipping her coffee cup. “My assistants were having trouble getting Jane out of her lab so I went down to try and drag her out. All it took was a promise to split a tub of Ben & Jerry’s and a bottle of wine with her.”

“This is you after half a bottle of wine?” he teased, herding her towards the dining table.

“It might have been a bottle each. Or a bottle and a half, I’m not sure. Shut up,” she whined as Bucky laughed at her. “I’m not hungover. Just… blah.”

He went to sit across from her but Darcy insisted he sit next to her so they could browse websites together. The smell of the frittata drew out the rest of the residents and soon a quiet discussion on desks and armchairs turned into a very loud discussion on the merits of record players and lava lamps. Lava lamps had been Scott’s suggestion, the fledgling superhero had turned up early in morning to steal something from storage - his words - which rubbed Sam the wrong way for some reason and made him determined to win the argument. Bucky couldn’t properly remember the last time he’d had such a great time. He particularly enjoyed the moment when Darcy had almost climbed over him to steal her tablet back from Sam before he ordered a set of overpriced vintage action figures, deeming them utterly essential. Steve had noticed, of course, and broached the subject as they walked to their respective rooms that night.

“So… Darcy’s nice.”

“Shut up.”

Days turned into weeks and with a fully furnished bedroom the facility was feeling more and more like home. The only thing that made him doubt it was when the Avengers were called out, reminding Bucky that he was still on house arrest and a verdict on his many crimes was still pending.

“The mission shouldn’t take more than a week,” Steve assured him, as they walked out to the quinjet together.

“Yeah, yeah. I ain’t a kid, Steve. Just go already, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I swear to God, Steve. I will strap you into that damn plane myself. Go.”

Steve smirked, his eyes looking over Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hey, here comes Darcy. Maybe you can ask her to keep you company while I’m gone,” he teased, hightailing it to one of the waiting quinjets before Bucky punched him in the face with his metal fist.

“…and you’ll email Eric about-”

“The readings from Hawaii. Yes, Jane.”

“And make sure that Dr Walcott calibrates-”

“The thingamabob in Lab 3. Yes, Jane.”

“Oh! And water the plant in my office.”

“Jane, honey, I replaced your dead husk of a plant with a plastic one six months ago.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Jane. When is the last time you remember watering it?”

“Uhh…”

“Exactly. Now, hurry up and get on the plane. Your pilot wanted to leave ten minutes ago and you’re going to hold him up for another fifteen while you do your pre-flight safety check to make sure all your doodads are secure.”

“But it’s important-”

“I know, Jane. Get on the plane, Jane,” Darcy begged, pushing her former boss towards the second quinjet, loaded up with her homemade equipment and two nervous assistants. “Bye Jane!” Darcy waved as the loading ramp closed behind the astrophysicist.

Bucky watched as the first quinjet took off but waited beside Darcy while the second one idled on the lawn. He watched as Darcy’s exasperated expression softened into one of longing and Bucky repressed the urge to reach for her.

“Are you okay, Darcy?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. Just one of the drawbacks of my new position; I don’t get to go on fieldtrips anymore,” she lamented. “But I don’t miss it, not really,” she said unconvincingly. “Even when we weren’t living out of her van, we were still living on top of each other. My diet consisted of poptarts and coffee, and I threw my back out hauling Jane’s equipment around. And let’s not forget the couple of times I almost died,” she added dramatically.

“But you miss it.”

“Yeah,” Darcy sighed. “I miss the nights when we’d camp out - no beeping machines, no results to record. Just me, Jane, a couple of drinks, and an entire galaxy over our heads. I miss the stars. I mean, out here it’s pretty great, there’s not that much light pollution, but it’s nothing like being out in the desert or Tromsø. Have you ever seen the Northern Lights?”

“A couple of times.” He’d seen them numerous times in fact, travelling in and out of the HYDRA base in Siberia, but he’d never been in a state of mind where he was able to appreciate them. Not that Darcy didn’t need to know that.

“Jane and I got sent to Norway for an ‘urgent consult’ before the Battle of New York, for our own protection or some bullshit. When Thor appeared on the news Jane was angry, worried but angry. And the longer she watched the news the more angry, worried, and determined to get drunk she was. I left her to sleep it off and took a walk outside. There were just all these green lights dancing across the sky. It was so beautiful,” Darcy whispered, gazing up at the sky as if she could still see them despite the sun at her back. It made Bucky’s heart ache. “Anywho,” Darcy muttered, shaking off the daydream as the quinjet engine roared into life. “Back to it, I suppose. See you ‘round, Bucky.”

“See you…”

Bucky wandered back to his room, deep in though. He stood at the end of the bed, glancing up at the stars above it. His mouth curled into a smile as an idea occurred to him.

“TADASHI?”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“I need your help with something.”

Darcy headed back to the residential building at a respectable hour. Without Jane corrupting the other scientists with her obsessive hours shutting down the labs for the night was a lot easier. She was still plagued by nostalgia but Darcy was sure it was nothing a bubble bath and her emergency bottle of tequila couldn’t fix. Until she flicked on her bedroom light and screamed.

“Um… TADASHI?”

“Yes, Miss Lewis?”

“Who the hell has been in my room?” she demanded, glancing about the spotless space like she’d just stepped into the Twilight Zone.

“Sergeant Barnes took the liberty of cleaning your room.”

“Why?!”

“I cannot say. Though he did leave an envelope on your desk.”

Darcy crossed her room, which was so much easier now that the clothes had been cleared from her floor. A quick glance at her wardrobe showed that they had been laundered and hung up. She tore open the envelope and tipped a small remote into the palm of her hand. On the back of it, in Bucky’s precise handwriting, were written the instructions, “Turn off your light and then press me.”

Curious, and more than a little freaked out, Darcy did as she was told. She turned off the lights, pressed the button, and gasped as ribbons of green light were projected onto her ceiling. She moved to the centre of the room, staring up at the dancing lights in complete awe. When her neck began to ache, snapping her out of her reverie, she pulled the duvet off her bed and spread it out on the floor so she could comfortably lie back and enjoy the light show.

“TADASHI?”

“Yes, Miss Lewis?”

“Would you ask Sergeant Barnes to join me?” she smiled.

The Avengers arrived back at the base six days later in the predawn light. Steve paused outside his apartment, worn out from the mission, but still alert enough to notice that Bucky’s door had been left ajar.

“Buck?” Steve called, peering into the darkness, but no answer came. He flicked on the light and found the room empty and the bed unmade. Steve tamped down the instinct to worry and asked for help. “TADASHI, do you know where Bucky is?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers. He is currently located in Miss Lewis’s rooms.”

“Oh really?” he grinned, flicking off the light and moving across the hall.

“Would you like me to contact him?”

“Nope,” he replied quickly, unable to wipe the smirk off his face. “Definitely not.”

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