#it's easier to be angry. to pin everything on one person than to admit he might have been at fault too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Distance

Characters: Childe, Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,280

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: What other explanation could there be? Surely this is the one logical answer. Even if it hurts, even if it doesn’t make sense.

In which the reader’s s/o assumes the reader is no longer interested.

Author’s Note: This prompt is really fun to write so far but I feel terrible torturing the poor characters like this. Oops.

Childe

The warm wind tickled Childe’s hair, causing the Harbinger to bat a few orange strands out of his face, eyes still pinned on the harbor that was fast approaching. The balmy breeze of Liyue was refreshing – a reminder of all the things he had been missing on his long-drawn-out trip. Now Childe leaned against the railing of the ship, eager to touch land, unable to contain the excitement he felt at the knowledge of what was awaiting him upon the dock.

Though he didn’t like to admit it this trip had been a particularly harrowing one, not just for Childe but for you as well. The post was notoriously touch-and-go across the Seven nations, especially with the deep snows whirling into Snezhnaya this time of year. The fact that he was gone almost a month certainly didn’t help. If he had to admit it Childe had found himself worrying about the time more than usual, worried how it might affect you. Now he was eager to push all those thoughts away, to once more find himself next to you, all well with the world. As the crew bustled around him to prepare the junk for docking the Harbinger took a deep breath in. There was nothing to worry about. Soon all would be well.

The empty dock was a jarring sight. Though saying it was devoid of people wouldn’t technically be accurate, business was going on as usual after all, to Childe it might as well have been a ghost town. Stumbling slightly, suddenly unsure of where to go, Childe climbed up the ramp awkwardly. Finding no one waiting for him on the stone pier as well, anxiety began to coil in Childe’s stomach. Had something happened? Ignoring the thoughts that flurried through his mind he quickly wove his way through the streets of Liyue. Though the city was bustling as always, laughter and shouting echoing through the air as people haggled and joked and went about their business, Childe found himself disconnected from his surroundings. His only thought was to find you, hopefully safe and sound and happy to see him.

There was no sign of anything wrong as Childe approached the door to your shared apartment. Sighing softly he dug around in his pack for the keys. You’d probably just fallen asleep, having recently taken up the habit of afternoon naps, according to your letters. Childe couldn’t really complain if that were the case, after all rest was important and you could hardly be blamed for not being aware of the time while conked out. Yes, surely you were asleep. Then Childe could give you the surprise of waking next to him. A smirk graced Childe’s lips at the thought of it, and as he turned the key in the lock he reassured himself. There was nothing to be worried about.

Unfortunately the Harbinger’s genius hypothesis had proven to be a false one. A quick scouring of the apartment revealed that you were not there, and no signs of any abnormal activity could be found as an explanation. Anxiety seeping into Childe’s mind he barely set down his pack before bolting out of the door, trying somewhat unconvincingly to keep his pace to a fast walk. Had something happened to you? Surely not! Childe knew you, knew that you could very well take care of yourself. He shouldn’t worry.

Still the thought passed through his head, combined with an even more unpleasant one. Had you simply forgotten about him? What if you didn’t care? Shaking his head the Harbinger took in a deep breath. He was overthinking things, still stuck in the mindset of a Harbinger. Not everything in life was a battle, hadn’t you told him that many times, teasing his constant need to see an obstacle to beat somewhere? He really should take your advice more seriously, at least in this case. Slowly down slightly Childe walked to the city center. He was sure his answer would be here; and that it would be so mundane as to not bother a second thought.

His pulse jumped in his throat as you finally entered his field of vision. You were sitting around with a few people, coworkers if the Guild crest and weaponry didn’t serve him wrong, chatting and smiling and overall having a wonderful time. Emotions stirred through Childe, the urge to run up to you, to stalk away, to find the nearest fountain and jump into it; but he stayed put, staring at your laughing face, pain flashing in his chest. He supposed he should’ve felt angry, felt like he’d been stood up. Instead all he felt was sadness, sadness and guilt.

Finally turning around Childe plodded back down the street, steps slow and sluggish. What did he expect really, for you to wait around for him forever? How was that fair? There was no reason you shouldn’t grow sick of waiting, shouldn’t want more out of your life. You were perfectly within your rights to want such a thing. Yet the pain continued, spreading throughout his chest until Childe felt like his lungs were on fire and his throat was crumpled in a fist of his own making.

Arriving back at the apartment a supernatural urge seemed to seize the Harbinger. Pack, he needed to pack. He wouldn’t burden you anymore, wouldn’t continue to strain your emotions by hanging around like a phantom. Luckily Childe wasn’t the kind of person to own a lot of things. Not that you really were either, between the both of you purchases mainly went into gifts for each other rather than personal buys. Childe now stood looking down at some of the things you’d bought or made for him. Scarves, books, a stuffed animal that had reminded you of his Delusion; all of these things lay peacefully on the shelf, giving the books behind them a slightly trapped looked. It was so homey and so comforting that Childe found tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

Wiping his eyes roughly the Harbinger collapsed onto the couch. What was he doing? Part of him wondered if he shouldn’t just wait for you to come home, wait and see where you two really were. But it seemed unfair to do that. After all, what kind of sleazy person left their partner for a month then begged for their love and attention right after coming home? It was completely within your rights to want more, hadn’t Childe already made that clear to himself? And yet it hurt, it hurt so much. How had he managed to mess this all up, to let the thing most precious to him fall out of his hands? He had been so careless.

Giving himself up to his emotions Childe let the pooling tears stream down his cheeks. Suddenly everything seemed so very heavy. Closing his eyes for a moment Childe sighed. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes before returning to his packing. Yet the familiar comfort of the couch beckoned to him, and soon fatigue overwhelmed him, dragging him down into the realm of sleep. Thankfully, he dreamt of nothing.

“Childe what are you doing?!”

Lurching up Childe glanced around wildly, hands automatically moving to summon his weapon. For a few seconds he found himself utterly confused, unable to comprehend where he was or what was going on. Soon enough however, the situation came crashing back to him and the Harbinger lowered his weapon. Glancing up at you he braced himself for whatever was going to happen next.

Well you certainly seemed upset, though not exactly in the way Childe might have expected. Instead of anger there seemed something more akin to panic in your eyes, and the red patches on your face certainly pointed to distress more than anything else.

“Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong, you tell me that!” You took in a few erratic breaths, but your tone remained panicky. “Why are you packing? Do you have another trip? Why are you leaving?”

“I, I thought that it would be easier if I just left.” Childe lowered his head, unable to look you in the eyes. “I figured that I would spare you the pain of having to kick me out yourself.”

“Why in Teyvat would I kick you out?” You sat down on the couch next to Childe, and he could feel your eyes piercing through him. “What’s going on?”

“I didn’t see you at the docks when I returned.” Childe paused, gathering his thoughts. “At first I thought that you’d just fallen asleep or something but you weren’t home. And when I saw you out with your friends, well it made me realize how distant I’ve really been; physically, emotionally, everything. I realized that, and I realized that you deserved better, that I hadn’t been doing enough. I realized that you deserve more, deserve a partner who will always be there for you, who you won’t always have to be waiting for.”

“Oh Ajax.” You whispered softly.

Raising his head Childe could see no relief in your expression. Instead sadness was plainly plastered upon your face. Reaching out your hands you let Childe slump against you, carding your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry my darling, I thought you were coming back tomorrow. That’s why I was out. I would never think such a thing as abandoning you,” you spoke softly, tone achingly soft, “I mean it. Our relationship isn’t conventional, that’s true; but I would never trade it for anything. I would never think that you weren’t giving enough, I know how hard you work and how much you put into everything you know. Believe me Ajax, I don’t begrudge you any distance, I’ve never lacked love from you.”

“But what if one day you want something more,” Childe couldn’t help but ask, “what if one day letters aren’t enough? What if one day, what if one day I’m not enough?”

“I promise that will never happen,” you let out a soft sigh, “really Ajax you hold yourself too cheaply. You shouldn’t underestimate yourself, or underestimate me for that matter. You will always be enough for me. There will never be a day I want anything or anyone different, and if need be I will remind you of that every. single. day.”

Punctuation the last three words with kisses to Childe’s head you smiled as he titled his face up to gaze into yours. Though the panic had evaporated from you there was still sadness, and for a moment Childe felt guilt wash over him, guilt that he had caused you so many trials and that he hadn’t even had the courage to face you about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Although I do appreciate you understanding that almost stealing out into the night nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Not my brightest moment.” Childe admitted.

“Perhaps not,” you laughed, “I mean really, you’d think that it was the second act of a tragedy or something, and not one I’d like to participate in.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! Just don’t do it again, or next time I’ll get genuinely angry, and then you won’t get off the hook so easily.”

Childe pressed his lips to yours, another unspoken apology. Though you let out a small huff of impatience you nevertheless leaned into the kiss, smiling against his lips as you let your hands drift from his hair to his shoulders.

That night Childe lay awake, listening to the soft cadence of your breath, indulging in the feeling of peace that lay over him. Though he knew that his worries and insecurities would never truly leave him, Childe nonetheless felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe one days his fears would come true, maybe one day this life wouldn’t be enough. But “ifs” and “maybes” weren’t guarantees, and until that day happened Childe would cherish the time he spent with you.

Besides, Childe trusted no one as much as he trusted you. If you said that such a day would never come to pass, then surely you were right.

Kaeya

You were working late again.

Kaeya supposed that it shouldn’t have bothered him, but then again he also supposed that almost anyone would feel somewhat uneasy if their colleague and partner was suddenly avoiding them like the plague.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much in Kaeya’s mind. Of course, if this were some sort of habit then he would hardly mind; but after months of making it a tradition to always walk home together, well, safe to say the whole thing didn’t sit well. Nor was it simply a matter of you staying to work late, even the days where you finished earlier than him it seemed that you were always dashing off somewhere, leaving him painfully out of the loop.

Now Kaeya stood across the room from you, fingers drumming on his arm, face carefully hiding the irritation and concern that rose up inside him, threatening to spill over.

“I’m really sorry Kaeya!” Your tone was sincere, and the apology in your eyes seemed genuine enough. “It’s just that Jean asked me to look over the ledgers for the infantry. You know the captain is out this week, but Jean didn’t want to have to owe the City and the soldiers in terms of late funds. I promise it won’t take that long, I’ll be done as fast as I can.”

“Why don’t I help you with it?” Kaeya could feel the sarcasm sweetening his tone, attempted to rein it in he stared at you silently.

“You’ve been working so hard, I wouldn’t want to bother you with extra work.”

“It wouldn’t be a bother at all. Anything for my dear partner.”

“Really, it’s fine!” You twisted your hands, a nervous habit that Kaeya had long ago picked up on. “I’ll be done in time for dinner. And then we can the new recipe you’ve been telling me about; okay?”

“Very well.”

“Thanks for understanding!”

Though you seemed happy enough by the proposition Kaeya noticed how fast your head moved to the papers on your desk. Closing the door behind him he heard you let out a loud sigh. Clenching his hands, as if to remind himself that he was still in a semi-public setting, Kaeya stalked out of the Knight’s Headquarters. The thoughts in his head felt like static, and he worried that if he remained still for one more moment it would swallow him up.

Walking the streets of Mondstadt, Kaeya tried to reflect back upon the past few weeks. Had he done something wrong? Wracking his brain for any serious disputes Kaeya came up frustratingly emptyhanded. If you had fought over something this whole debacle would be one thing. Kaeya had a temper of his own, and petty acts of anger was something he admittedly struggled with often enough. He could hardly fault you if you acted in a similar way, or at least not without admitting to his own faults.

And yet nothing had happened, nothing that might cause such a dispute. Clenching his hands one more, aware that his knuckles must’ve been bone white, Kaeya let his thoughts drift to darker waters. What if you were just sick of him? It was certainly plausible, or at least Kaeya thought so. It would certainly explain why you now seemed to be avoiding him like the plague outside of work.

The thought hurt, as it might well do, but surprisingly most of the pain didn’t come from the idea itself, but from the idea that you wouldn’t tell him such a thing. You falling out of love with Kaeya would be been incredibly painful. You not trusting him enough to the point you were simply avoiding him, well the thought was enough to knock the wind out of him. Did you really think so ill of him? The idea filled Kaeya with smoldering rage and indignation – fueled in no little part by the fact that Kaeya ultimately might agree with you. Usually thoughts like those were the kinds you hated, the kinds you chased away with a stick, assuring Kaeya that no matter his past decisions he was still worthwhile. But you weren’t here now, and those dark thoughts were now kindling for the fire that burned in Kaeya’s mind.

By the time he’d reached the apartment Kaeya was almost sure of his hypothesis. Though a small part of his brain reminded him that he was working of a diet of sleep deprivation and anger, such logical thinking was easy enough to shrug off. After all, the signs were there. You were evidently getting quite sick of him, it was hardly Kaeya’s fault that he caught on.

Throwing his equipment on the floor, not bothering to even put his sword up on its stand, the Cavalry Captain walked towards the kitchen. What he needed was drink, maybe even two. Really if it were up to him he’d spend the next hour or so getting as drunk as possible before passing out in the tub. Thankfully though his reason hadn’t completely left him, and Kaeya managed to limit himself to two and a half glasses of cider. He needed to be at least on the side of sober for the conversation that was bound to pass once you came home after all.

The lateness of the hour in which you arrived felt like a personal insult, though really it was only 21:00 or so.

“Kaeya?” You called out, whipping the Cavalry Captain out of his thoughts.

Stepping into the kitchen the grin on your face was a stark contrast to the emotions that swirled in Kaeya’s mind. Hands clasped behind your back you stood in the doorframe as if expecting something. You’d probably be in for a nasty surprise. Kaeya smiled sweetly at you, words burning in his mouth, mixing with the alcohol. This was a bad idea.

“How was the paperwork?”

“The paperwork? Oh! It was boring enough I suppose. I kept getting distracted though, I really should’ve had you there, you could’ve kept me from nodding off.”

“I’m sure I would have. Tell me something my dear, I have a question that’s been burning in my mind.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me why it is that out lovely Acting Grandmaster asked you to go over the ledgers when I was assigned to that exact thing yesterday?”

Ignoring the blotches of red that immediately spread across your cheeks Kaeya stood up. Carefully going to clean the glass he’d been using he stared into the sink, not trusting himself to look at you. If he did all the words he wanted to say would fly out at once, and something that probably shouldn’t be said with them.

“Did she ask you that? How odd! She must’ve wanted a second pair of eyes or something, I guess.”

“Are my eyes not good enough?”

“Kaeya, you know I wasn’t insulting your work.” A sort of shocked irritation ran through your voice. “You’re the best knight in Mondstadt after all.”

“Oh really? Well if you think so highly of me then why have you been avoiding me so much?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Then let me ask a different question; when was the last time we walked home together?”

“I don’t know, a week and a half ago?”

“Try two and a half.” Kaeya finally turned around, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!” Indignation shot through your words as you shook your head. “I’m just busy recently.”

“Busy with made up work.”

“It’s not made up!”

“Oh really, then tell me what was your work last night?”

“I had to oil the bow strings for my regiment.”

“They couldn’t do it themselves according to protocol?”

“Not the new recruits they couldn’t!”

“Then what about the day before?”

“Kaeya!” You finally burst out. “I don’t know why you’re so quick to find fault with me right now! Just tell me what you’re getting at, if you’re going to insult me you might as well do it head on.”

A part of him admired you for wanting to look at the problem right in the face, another part of him thought of how well you knew him, how attuned you were to his moods. Just as he had figured out that you were avoiding him, so could you tell that his jabs were a misdirection. It was almost funny really, seeing the things you both had picked up about one another now used at the end.

“Fine.” Kaeya crossed his arms, hoping his expression was at least somewhat neutral. “It seems obvious to me that you’ve been avoiding me, and that you no longer want my company. What I am getting at is the fact that you want to break up, and that you evidently trust me so little with that fact that the only solution you’ve come up with is to avoid me.”

Your face went slack with shock, pupils turning to pinpricks as you stumbled backwards. Finally letting your arms fall to your sides you grabbed the side of the doorframe, as if unable to process what he just come out of your partner’s mouth.

“What?”

“Do you really trust me so little?” Kaeya pressed on, feeling his emotions begin to spill over. “Am I really so untrustworthy that you can’t even tell me you want to end things? Am I, am I really that untrustworthy?”

Everything seemed to be going all wrong. Kaeya had expected you to immediately fess up, had expected guilt and relief and then the end. Instead all he got was incredulous silence, incredulous silence and a look that screamed utter and total disbelief.

“Do you really think that I would do that to you?”

The question was a simple enough one, one that anyone might ask during a conversation of this nature. Still your tone was so dispassionate that Kaeya couldn’t help but pause. Did he really think that you would do such a thing? His anger certainly thought so, helped a great deal by his current buzzed state. All that aside however, did he really think that? When he woke up tomorrow, would these thoughts still be swirling through his head, these angry thoughts that threatened to burn through his happiness.

“I don’t know.” It was the best answer he could give.

“Then why would you accuse me of something you weren’t even sure of?”

“I…”

“Kaeya have you really thought so little about what you just told me?”

He almost wanted to apologize for how stupid his words seemed in retrospect.

“Would it help you if I told you where I actually was?”

Your voice was still quiet, but not entirely closed. Nodding stiffly Kaeya felt his fingers still.

“Very well. You were right about one thing, I wasn’t actually checking the ledgers for Jean; and I wasn’t oiling bowstrings all day either, I mean our troops should know how to do that at least. But you made one mistake in your judgement Kaeya, the idea that I was avoiding you. In truth I was gathering materials, I wanted to make a new sword for you. Your current one is so brittle and since I know you don’t want to use the sword you were given as an heirloom, well I thought that I wouldn’t wait for your current one to break and that your new one would be a present.”

“…I see.”

It was all Kaeya could get out; how else could he reply? Shame and guilt mingled within his mind, quickly dousing any anger that he might’ve felt. He really fucked up this one didn’t he. He let his emotions slip once more and now he had made a fool of himself. More than that he had refused to trust you, had ended up doing the exact thing he had just accused you of. Now what was there to do? He couldn’t exactly slink away with his dignity; even if he had managed to retain that, there weren’t many places to go.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Kaeya jerked his head up from the spot he’d been examining on the floor, confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. You stared into his eyes, shrugging slightly.

“I said I’m sorry. I’m sorry Kaeya, I should’ve come up with a better method. I didn’t mean to make you worried, or to make you feel like I wanted to no longer associate with you. Believe me that’s the last thing I want to do. So I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”

“I was the one who accused you of all those things that weren’t true.”

“You did. I’m not very happy about that to be honest; you’re going to be doing some serious penance for the next week. I just figured that before that I would apologize. Then we could be even. Okay?”

Reaching out your hand Kaeya finally noticed what you’d been hiding. The windwheel aster was slightly limp, the breeze that gave it its beauty nowhere to be found. Nevertheless it seemed at the moment the most beautiful flower in the world. Walking over to you Kaeya tentatively took the flower in his hand. Smiling softly he leaned down to kiss you.

“I’m sorry.”

Tomorrow he’d start making it up to you. Tomorrow he wouldn’t listen to his demons, wouldn’t let his own lack of self-worth hurt you. Tomorrow he would do better by you and more. Today he would say sorry.

After all, he had plenty of time.

#genshin impact fanfiction #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #childe #kaeya #genshin impact #requested #scenarios #my writing #sorry forgot to strike ningguang and zhongli from fhe character list they’re coming tomorrow(/today)

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some-messed-up-writing-for-you · 3 years

Note

Hi! I'm the anon that asked for any requests you are comfortable or not with, first of all, thanks for answer my question! And second, would you be so kind to write about a male villain confessing his feelings to a female hero with some sexual tension in the middle and then if you want that the thing ends up in something nsfw, please?^^

Request #24

Warning: nsfw.

Man, this one came out long, but I'm hella happy with it! Also, having the characters have different genders really made the writing easier, so I'm probably gonna be doing that more often, lmao.

Enjoy, dear anon!

~~~~

"Ugh! Why are you like this?!" - Hero exclaimed, frustrated as she threw another punch in the villain's direction. He dodged it with ease and caught her wrist, swiftly bringing her closer and landing a hit on her face.

Disoriented, the hero couldn't do anything as Villain pinned her against the wall, her arms held above her head. They were both panting, gasping for air from the exhausting fight that had led them to this point. She tugged at her wrists, trying to break free, but his grip was unyielding.

"Why am I like what?" - the villain asked, making Hero's blood boil even more.

"Don't play dumb!" - she growled out, snarling angrily. "You've been doing this shit for weeks now!"

Before Villain could question her more, the hero lunged her head forward and bit him on the face, catching him off guard. His grip loosened, and his nemesis was quick to take advantage of it. She freed her arms, grasped onto him, and threw them both to the ground.

They thrashed around, rolling all over the dusty floor of the abandoned warehouse they were in until eventually, Hero found herself on top of her enemy, straddling his hips, pinning down his wrists on either side of his head.

Now, even more tired, they glared at each other. The woman decided to voice her frustrations further. "Every. Fucking. Day." - she started.

"Every fucking day, you've been doing whatever you can to waste my time and force me out into the field."

The villain grit his teeth. "I'm not doing this to waste your time."

"Oh, yeah? Then why-" - the hero was never able to finish talking as Villain jutted his hips and threw her off balance. He rolled them both over, swapping their places so that he was on top.

"BECAUSE I WANTED TO SEE YOU!" - the villain exclaimed without thinking, too frustrated to think twice before speaking.

She gaped at him, trying to understand his words. "You-? W-What?"

He faltered, regret starting to eat away at him. He should not have said that. He should not have said-

They switched places again. Hero was on top of Villain, and- ah, shit- he hadn't realized just how close she was- how- how intimate this felt...

A blush threatened to take over his face, but he fought against it, successfully keeping it at bay. Or at least, he was successful until the hero decided to hover her face right in front of his own.

Suspicious, she questioned, "What do you mean you 'wanted to see me?'"

"I- I uh..." - what the hell was happening?! Since when did he stutter?! He couldn't come up with a reasonable answer, and he refused to tell the truth. So, he just shut his mouth.

She waited a few more seconds, hoping he would answer. But silence and shifty eyes were all that she got.

"Villain, c'mon! What is up with you recently?" - Hero tried again, but the villain still refused to talk. He wasn't even looking at her anymore.

Annoyed, she held down his wrists with one hand while the other grabbed his chin, tilting his head and catching his attention. Their eyes locked, and she swore his pupils were more dilated than usual.

"You've just been acting so weird lately! And, I- I just-" - she stopped, furrowing her eyebrows as she got lost in thought. Was... Was Villain blushing? This was all so- so unlike him!

His pupils are wide, he doesn't want to look at her, and he said he was doing all of this because he 'wanted to see her?' What did any of this mean?! And what the hell is poking her in the-

A blush assaulted her face as the dots suddenly connected, her lips forming into a thin line as she looked down at their touching crotches.

She looked back at him. His face was even brighter, a look in his eyes.

Hero's brain scrambled to break the silence, but her words did not want to cooperate. "I- Do- Do you- Are you-"

"I like you!" - Villain blurted out. He could feel the sweat going down the side of his face as the hero above him became stunned.

"I- I really uh- really like you." - he said again.

Breaking out of her daze, she responded, "Uh... Yeah, I- I can tell."

...

Holy shit, this was awkward.

...

The hold on his chin had loosened at some point, and he looked away again. She broke the silence once more. "How long?"

He almost choked on his spit, looking back to her. "H-Huh?"

"How long have you uh... had feelings for me?"

Oooh, right.

"I- I don't know..." - he admitted. "It just... kind of... happened somewhere along the line...?"

She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for something. Oh, God, what will she say? This is the part where she calls him a weirdo and runs away, isn't it?

"It's... nice to know I'm not the only idiot around here then."

...

"What?"

Clearing her throat, Hero shily muttered, "I- I like you too."

Villain was pretty sure his brain had just short-circuited. Did- Did he hear that right?

"I- You- You like me back?"

She nodded in reply. He was still shocked that this was happening. What were they supposed to do now? Fight? He didn't really want to fight. He had some... other activities on the mind.

Sighing internally, Villain did his best to collect his thoughts. Someone had to move this conversation forward, and it seemed like the hero wouldn't be the one to do it.

"Do you... still want to fight?" - he asked. She looked at him a bit puzzled before her equally fried mind caught up. "I mean- I just... don't really feel like it anymore."

"Uh... Y-Yeah, alright." - she responded, releasing her grip and carefully moving off him so that their crotches wouldn't brush against one another. The villain sat up, and they both remained there on the ground, playing with the dust to keep themselves distracted.

...

It was quiet again. Villain almost groaned, angry with himself. He wanted to say something, but- How was he supposed to say this? It's not like he could just-

"Do you wanna fuck?" - Hero suddenly blurted out, and he sputtered, unable to respond like a functioning human being.

She panicked a bit. "S-Sorry! Uh- Too- Too forward?"

"Y-Yes! I- I mean no! I- I mean-" - he buried his face in his hands. Why was this so difficult?! He was an adult! Both of them were!

Wait- An adult, yes! Just- Think, Villain. How would a sensible adult proceed in this situation?

He uncovered his eyes, taking a look around. They were both on the ground, covered in sweat, dirt, and decades-old dust. They had gotten some good hits on each other, so they had some bruises and cuts.

So, if they were to... have sex - he still couldn't believe this was happening - the most responsible thing to do would probably be... going elsewhere...? But where? To one of their houses, perhaps?

Villain sighed audibly, catching the hero's attention. "Do you... want to come over to my place?"

Her eyes widened, and her face burned brighter at his question. He added frantically, "O-Or we could go to your place! Or- Or no place at all! We could just forget this ever happe-!"

He froze as fingers pressed against his lips, silencing him. He looked at her again. She smiled nervously before saying, "W-We can't forget about this. We could try, but..."

Her eyes traveled up and down his body quickly, studying him, and he couldn't help but shiver under her gaze. "...I'm pretty sure we would both fail miserably."

She pulled her hand back, and he already missed her touch.

"So..." - she started. "...Your place...?"

"S-Sure." - Villain managed to answer. He lifted himself off the ground and offered her his hand, which she took. Upon pulling her up, their bodies lightly collided, Hero's hands landing on his chest to steady herself and one of the villain's hands catching her by the waist. They silently stood there for a moment, blushing as if they had never touched another person, before swiftly separating.

With some awkward coughs and clearing of throats, they were on the move again, working together so they wouldn't get seen.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"This is your house?" - the hero asked, looking around. The tension between them had eased a bit since they left the warehouse. "I won't lie, I always imagined it to be... a lot less normal than this."

Villain snorted at that. "What, were you expecting red string and cork boards?"

She didn't answer, only biting the inside of her cheek and crossing her arms, making him chuckle a bit before getting back on track. He led her through the house, arriving at a bathroom. "I think it'd be best if we got cleaned up a bit since we've been rolling around in dirt and whatnot all day."

"Why, Villain. Are you being responsible?" - Hero asked playfully. He gave her an "Oh- shush." before showing her where everything was. A smile crept onto his face regardless; he had missed their casual banter.

"Now, I have another bathroom upstairs connected to my bedroom, so once you're done, you can uh... you can join me... I guess..."

"Smooth." - she replied teasingly, getting a blush from him. "I got one more question, though."

"Yes?"

She grinned, looking forward to his reaction. "What am I supposed to wear?"

Villain seemed to freeze for a moment before it registered in his brain that Hero did not, in fact, have any spare clothing to put on. His blush worsened tenfold, and she laughed.

Through her giggles, she asked, "Do you want me to just come upstairs nake-?"

"Bathrobe! Yup! There's uh- There's one right there!" - he blurted out, not letting her finish. She looked to where he was pointing, and there was indeed a bathrobe hanging there, next to some towels.

She gave another small chuckle. "Alright."

Turning back to him, she lightly bit her lip and gave him a look, tracing a finger along his jawline. "But you better wear one too~."

Hero didn't realize a person could blush this badly. For the poor villain's sake, she kept her giggles in this time, letting him respond. "Y-You got it!"

With that, Villain left. He walked out calmly, but a few seconds later, she still heard him sprint down the hall and couldn't keep her laughter to herself.

As he moved up the stairs - way too quickly for it to be normal - he silently cursed himself. Why was he acting like such an idiot?! He had sex before! This was nothing new!

No, no, it's not that this was new or something. It wasn't his fault! It was Hero's!

Hero with her stupid smile that made his knees weak, and her dumb laughter that made his heart flutter, and- and...

...

Has Villain ever felt like this before? Has he ever... fallen for someone like this?

Perhaps before he had become the villain, but... that was a long time ago. He no longer remembered anything from that part of his life. He only remembered the now. He only remembered his fights with Hero.

As he arrived at his bedroom's bathroom, he smiled. The woman really had taken over his mind, hadn't she? She was incredible, no other like her. And amazingly enough, she returned his feelings too.

The villain stripped free of his ruined clothing and hopped into the shower. Rubbing soap onto his dirtied skin, he pondered on that thought. Did she truly feel the same way? What if this was... just some elaborate trick...?

He faltered for a moment, having not considered such an option. What if the hero wanted to catch him off guard...? While he was vulnerable...?

He shook his head. No, that couldn't be the case. He knew her. He knew how her real laughter sounded. He knew how she looked when she was acting, pretending to be happy. And this... this was no act.

Hero loved him back.

Villain knew that. His mind just enjoyed tormenting him sometimes.

As he scrubbed at his scalp and hair, he returned to the present. Hero was here, in his house, and they were basically about to have sex together. His face flushed red again as another thought crossed his mind. Who...

Who would be on top...?

...

Honestly, the villain was fine with being either but... he'd be lying if he said Hero didn't look hot as hell on top of him.

Dear Lord, he was getting turned on just thinking about how she had pinned him down earlier.

...

He really needed to get out of the shower already. Getting back on track, he fully rinsed himself and turned the water off. Hurriedly, he grabbed a towel and dried himself off. Once done with that, he wrapped himself in a bathrobe identical to the one downstairs. It was soft and warm. It helped calm him.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the door's handle and opened it. Upon doing so, Villain was met with the sight of Hero casually lying on his bed, loosely wrapped in her bathrobe. He could see her cleavage and- shit, he was staring-

Looking away and clearing his throat, he closed the bathroom door.

"Took your sweet time in there, huh?" - she asked with that playful expression back on her face once more. The villain went to respond, but she smirked and continued. "Didn't start the fun without me, did you~?"

"N-No." - he said, and she chuckled at his nervousness. Why was he like this? This was his house and his bed that Hero was lying on! She was just being so confident and... and taking charge and...

She grinned wider, amused as she looked at his crotch. He also looked.

...

Shit.

Well, if that didn't make it obvious he was enjoying this...

...

He looked back up at Hero, and she wiggled her finger at him, beckoning him to come and join her. He silently obliged, crawling onto the bed and sitting in front of her. She was leaning against the headboard, soft pillows arranged so that they would support her back.

The hero scooted forward a bit. Feeling daring, Villain copied her and gasped as he suddenly found himself under her. She had grabbed him and switched their places before he could react, pressing him against the headboard and straddling him.

He stammered, trying to come up with something to say, but grew silent as Hero cradled his cheek. Her thumb rested on his lips as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I hope you weren't planning on being the top~?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he answered, breathless, "No... I wouldn't have this any other way..."

She grinned at him, eyes half-lidded as she tangled her hands in his hair. He sighed, relaxing under her touch as she brought their lips together in a soft kiss. Villain's arms wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer.

A moan hummed in his throat as Hero's hands trailed down his chest and landed on his bathrobe's belt. Slowly, teasingly, she untied it, the fabric loosening around him, letting her slip it off him, exposing his body to her.

Shivers coursed through the villain as her hands glided along his bare skin. He wanted to feel her too. His hands traced her curves, sneaking towards her belt. As his fingers brushed against it, she caught his wrists, scolding him lightly. "Ah, ah. Not allowed~."

He opened his mouth to protest, but only a gasp left him as one of her hands went to his cock. The hero's fingers brushed against it, her touch feather-light, experienced. Villain grasped at the bedsheet below them, breath coming out uneven as she slowly stroked him.

Even as she drew pleasured mewls from him, she took a moment to admire his shaft. It was a decent length, not the biggest one out there, but certainly above the average. It was just right for her, and she complimented so, whispering in his ear again, "You're the perfect size~. And it looks so nice too~."

He shuddered at her words, and she moved her face in front of him once more. Their mouths locked again, her free hand grabbing the back of his head, pulling him in. She seized his bottom lip in her teeth, nibbling on it gently. Her tongue asked for entrance, and he let her in, deepening the kiss. She explored the inside of his mouth, memorizing every nook and cranny.

Villain sucked in a sharp breath as Hero's hand stopped, and her thumb began running small circles on the tip of his dick, smearing pre-cum across it. As their lips parted again, they gasped for air. Another smile graced her features as he begged. "F-Fuck! Hero, please, can I touch you? Please."

The woman hummed, considering his plea. She adored the needy look on his face, the way his fingers twitched around the clutched bed sheets, desperate for contact. The hero gave a small chuckle. "Well, since you asked so nicely~."

With the permission given, the villain's hands immediately moved to strip her free of her robe. She laughed some more at his haste before kissing him again. Low moans left them both as they touched and teased each other. His hands trailed down her spine, making her arch into him and raising more pleasured sounds from her.

Showing her approval, Hero stroked Villain a few times, her movements swift and firm, drawing another shudder from him. They separated for air again, her hands moving up to cradle his face as she suggested, "How about we get to the fun part now~?"

His hands trailed to her hips, his mouth opened to reply, but he suddenly pulled back, looking as if he just remembered something. "Oh, hold on."

The hero watched curiously as he leaned to the side of the bed towards a nightstand. The villain opened one of the drawers and pulled something out of it. She gave an amused snort once the two objects entered her vision.

"What?" - he asked as she giggled again, looking between her, the bottle of lube and condom in his hands.

"I don't get to see you being a responsible adult very often. It's cute." - she admitted, making him blush once more without fail.

He grumbled under his breath, but the smile on his face told her there was no bite behind it. She took the small bottle from him and moved back a bit. Villain paid her no mind, focused on getting the condom out of its package and slipping it on. Once he successfully finished his task, he looked up again.

His dick twitched at the sight that greeted him. Hero was sitting on the other end of the bed, her legs spread wide as she poured some lube onto her throbbing sex. She gasped lightly as the cold substance made contact and then used her hand to tease at her folds.

The villain watched as she slipped a finger inside herself, slowly moving in and out. His own hand went to his cock, stroking himself as he grew entranced by the show. He matched her pace, and she groaned quietly as she slipped a second finger in, stretching herself in preparation.

Their eyes locked, and they stayed that way for a little bit, pleasuring themselves and listening to one another's soft gasps and moans. Eventually, Hero's impatience got the best of her. She pulled her fingers out and crawled over to Villain.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, she positioned herself at his dick, and he held her by the waist, giving her some additional support. They inhaled shakily in unison as she took in the tip of his cock. She moved down slowly, letting herself adjust to his size, and he made no complaints, haphazardly leaving small pecks on her face, which got another giggle out of her.

Once he was fully sheathed inside of her, he ran his hands down her thighs, making her shiver and pull him into another kiss. Her touch trailed over his sides to his hips and then back up to cradle his head. His own hands moved up her body, one grasping her breast, squeezing and kneading while the other moved to get tangled in her hair.

Experimentally, the hero moved her hips forward, making them both moan against one another, the sound muffled by their connected lips. Leisurely, she began moving up and down, setting a calm pace, the slight pain of being stretched around him fading into pleasure. Their mouths parted again, and quickly, they got lost in their lust and each other's eyes.

She sped up, their skin beginning to slap together, sounding across the room but still drowning in their moans and mewls. As their pleasure began to build up inside their guts, their hands traveled without a set destination, wanting to feel as much as they could.

A gasp left Hero's lips as Villain's shaft hit the right spot, and she angled herself, focusing on it and moving even faster, her breasts bouncing in rhythm with her rapid pace. Thrust after thrust, their breathing swiftly turned shaky, chaotic. Their minds grew frantic as their orgasms approached them.

The hero's head tilted back, and she tightly held onto the villain's shoulders as release washed over her. His name left her lips in a low moan that echoed in his head, and it didn't take long for him to come as well, Hero's name leaving him in an identical manner.

Coming down from their highs, they slowed down, enjoying the pleasure for a bit longer with some calm thrusts and movements. They locked in a soft, short kiss before eventually parting and coming to a stop. Together they gasped for air and took a moment to rest as sweat dripped down their bodies.

Once she had regained some energy, Hero slid off Villain, making them both shudder at the feeling. She collapsed on the bed beside him, and soon, he copied her, lying down next to her. The two remained like that for a few minutes, calming their racing hearts and basking in the afterglow.

A small chuckle caught the villain's attention, and he turned his head towards the hero. She gave him a lazy smile before explaining her giddiness. "Looks like we'll need another shower."

He gave her a chuckle of his own before an idea crossed his mind. "Well, I do have a jacuzzi tub..."

With a grin that Hero considered too charming for Villain's own good, he offered, "Wanna take a bath together~?"

She giggled fondly. "Sure."

And then, together, off they went to get cleaned up again.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #writing #writeblr #hero #villain #prompt #writing prompt #short story #request #request prompts #prompt request #hero x villain community #writing community

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years

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Give it time: ch3

A/N: I got in the flow and decided to write the last chapter anyway. Enjoy :)

Click here for chapter 1 Click here for chapter 2

Helping a ‘friend’ ‘Hey, (Y/N). You’re up early’ Steve greeted her, happy to see her without the egotistical God by her side.

‘Morning Steve’ she said with a hint of sadness in her voice. Something was wrong, he could tell.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. He was hoping that Loki would have slipped yesterday and that they had a fight. If they had broken up, it surely would make reaching his goal easier. He felt a little bad about manipulating her, it was not something he would normally do. But she was too oblivious to see that Loki is bad for her, she deservers better, much better.

‘Can we talk for a moment?’ she asked him.

‘Of course!’ he replied, he was growing anxious. Maybe Loki had said or done something to paint him in a bad light. He had to admit that it was extremely difficult to manipulate the God, or outsmart him. He followed her to the living room where they sat down on the couch. Steve immediately noticed the distance between them, which was larger than usual.

‘You know that Loki has some trouble with us hanging out. And last night it became worse. So, I think it is best to maybe keep some distance between us for some time. At least until Loki sees that there is nothing going on’ she told him.

‘(Y/N) if that’s what you really want, of course! I can’t say I will not miss you, but I never want to come between the two of you’ he replied, trying hard not to grit his teeth or to let the disdain of Loki show.

‘Yeah, I’ll miss you too. But I think I need some time to work on the relationship. We soon will be taking some time of to go away for a weekend. And after Loki is comfortable it all will go back to normal’ she smiled.

‘It’s always a good idea to work on your relationship. But if I can be honest, I am starting to grow a little concerned’ Steve replied, hoping to cause some doubt in her mind about the relationship.

‘Why?’ she asked.

‘Well, what if he never comes around? What if instead of working through his issues he just finds another guy to be jealous of? I mean, he is basically deciding who you can and can’t hang out with and I don’t think that is right. That shouldn’t happen in a healthy relationship. He has nothing to worry about, but what if one day there is a guy he should worry about? What will he do then?’ She explained.

Steve saw the wheels in her head turning. She probably would go through with the plan she had, but he knew in the back of her mind these words would linger. ‘Like I said, I don’t want to come between the two of you. But maybe something to watch out for’ he added, before it became too obvious what he was trying to do.

‘Eh.. yeah. Thanks for your concern, I’ll watch out’ she hesitantly replied, still deep in thought about his words.

‘But I have one favour the ask’ he said.

‘I actually have a date next week and I wanted to cook risotto. Your favourite if I’m not mistaking. And I was hoping I could practice tonight and you would eat with me? Tell me if it is any good?’ he asked.

‘Oh, ehm.. I don’t know with Loki..’ she started, but Steve interjected.

‘I know, but you know I can’t go to anyone else for this. Loki has to go on a mission anyway and will be gone. He never has to know! And after that you can work on your relationship. Please, I really need your help’ he whined putting on his best puppy-eyes.

He saw that she became uneasy, finding it hard to reject him. ‘Oh okay, but only if Loki is still gone and he doesn’t find out. It will be one of the last things we will do together for some time.’

‘Yes of course! Thank you so much (Y/N)’ Steve replied happily. All right, one down, one more to go he thought.

After the conversation she went off to work. They would meet at dinner time in the kitchen and eat there. Steve had already bought everything he needed for tonight. He would cook, reminisce and the two of you would drink some wine. Hopefully her guard would be down and then the tricky part. He had to plan his next move the moment Loki figured out what was really going on. Thinking of Loki, Steve needed to get him away from her for the rest of the day.

After waiting for a while Loki finally made it out of bed. Steve had to supress a grin when he saw how hung-over he was.

‘Good morning, Loki’ Steve said with a loud voice.

Loki flinched and really didn’t look happy to see Steve.

‘What do you want’ he grumbled while making some coffee for himself.

‘I have a mission for you’ Steve said.

‘What is it?’ Loki snapped.

‘We suspect that some of our opponents are using a form of magic we never encountered before. I was hoping you would go to the Sanctuary and find out everything about it. Since you are the one with the most knowledge about magic’ he explained, hoping to distract Loki with some flattery. Loki was intrigued and Steve started to tell him all he knew. It was true that there were rumours about this, but it was probably false. Anyway, it could wait months before they researched it but he needed Loki gone for today. He had figured that the best way to manipulate the God is not by lying, but by telling the truth and implying. That way Loki had a feeling he was lying, but could never be sure.

‘That is going to take all day…’ Loki grumbly replied when Steve was done talking.

‘I know, but it is important to know. Plus, maybe it would take your mind off things with (Y/N)’ he said.

That cleared Loki’s head and Steve knew he had to be careful know and do it exactly as rehearsed.

‘What do you mean?’ Loki growled at him.

‘Oh sorry, I thought she had told you’ he replied. Not a lie, he actually expected her to tell Loki about their dinner tonight.

‘We spoke this morning and I told her that I didn’t want to come between the two of you. But I invited her to dinner tonight. She probably didn’t tell you because she doesn’t want to worry you. I mean, it probably means nothing, but you know about our history’ he said. It was word for word the truth, maybe in the wrong order. But it implied a whole different story than what happened this morning.

Steve was startled when Loki grabbed him by his throat and pinned him to the wall behind him. For a moment he forgot that Loki, even tough he was good now, was still a very dangerous person if he was angered. Loki started to rant about all the ways he would kill him if he ever lay his eyes on her.

‘You know she would never forgive you if you killed me’ Steve reacted to Loki’s rant.

With a growl Loki let go of Steve’s throat. ‘Look, if you want you can confront her. Just come by tonight’ Steve said.

Loki narrowed his eyes at him. Probably trying to figure out what game Steve is playing. This was not something Loki saw coming.

‘FINE’ he growled. ‘I see the two of you at six’ he angrily added.

‘Actually, it would be better if you were here at seven’ Steve replied. Carefully picking his words, trying not to reveal the fact that she would be here at six.

At dinner Steve had cooked and she arrived right on time. He had only an hour before Loki would be back and storm inside. He needed to execute his plan right before he could, otherwise she would find out about his manipulation. He was smart enough to have a camera in the hallway which he monitored from his mobile phone. Giving him a head start when Loki would arrive. Currently he was focusing on her telling stories. The two of them were laughing and drinking. After about half an hour he was reminiscing about the past, dropping subtle hints about their last date.

He was still slapping himself mentally for not giving her a chance then. When he finally saw how amazing she was, she just started to date Loki. The thought angered Steve, but after tonight he would have time to win her over. And he was not going to let her go, it would be the best for everyone involved. Even though his methods were questionable, it was the right thing to do.

Every time her wine glass was empty he filled it back up again. He needed her reaction time to slow down and needer her off guard. Five minutes before seven he saw Loki angrily walking through the lobby. So, Steve said his plan in motion.

‘(Y/N) if you don’t mind I need your help some more’ he started. He scooched closer against her and grabbed her hand. He looked into her eyes and met her half-drunk gaze. The door swung open, he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her. With one eye open he saw the hurt expression on Loki’s face. For a split-second Loki froze, before storming away. (Y/N) pushed herself away from Steve.

‘What the hell?’ she yelled.

‘I’m sorry. It’s just I really wanted to kiss her and my last kiss was you. So, I wanted to know, you know what to do’ Steve quickly explained.

He saw her angry expression, he needed to distract her. He needed her heartbroken so he could be there for her. ‘I think Loki just saw us’ he said.

He watched her expression change from anger to shock. She quickly stood up and ran towards Loki’s bedroom. Steve slowly walked after her. He heard her call Loki’s name, it sounded like she was crying. It broke his heart, but it needed to be done. She needed to be free of him. He walked into the bedroom to saw her pace around frantically with a note in her hand. She was still crying. He took the note from her.

I can’t believe I ever trusted you

Steve had to supress an eye-roll. Loki was always too dramatic for his taste. Both of their head turned towards the yard when they heard a familiar sound. She ran past Steve to the yard and he followed her again. When he caught up with her she was sitting on her knees in the middle of the burned grass. Steve immediately recognized the pattern. Loki had taken the Bifrost and was gone, just like Steve expected that he would. He slowly walked beside her and sat down on his knees too.

‘I’m so sorry (Y/N). I never meant for this to happen! As soon as I can, I will talk to Thor and tell him about what happened’ Steve started to comfort her. He pulled her closer against his chest, she was still sobbing. She was so wrapped up in her pain that she couldn’t see what was really going on. Steve meant what he said. As soon as Thor would be back he would explain himself, knowing that Thor was probably livid with Steve after hearing Loki’s version of events. But Thor wouldn’t be in Asgard for another three months, so he would be back here in about four months. Which gave Steve four months to make (Y/N) forget about Loki and to start dating her. He would make Loki the bad guy in the story, after she believes him Thor would too. Then Loki would just look like the jealous ex-boyfriend. Making Loki the bad guy isn’t that hard, he is the God of Lies after all he thought while comforting (Y/N). They sat like that for a while. And Steve couldn’t help but feel relieved that Loki was far away, while she was in his arms.

Permanent tag list: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @theaudacitytowrite @pescadoavocado @theestorm

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rocorambles · 3 years

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Mending the Cracks

Pairing: Daishou x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Choking, Spitting, DDLG, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation

Summary: Daishuo prides himself on his cool and collected facade, his ability to not let anyone see past his polite and put together appearances unless he wishes them to. But Kuroo has always had a special talent for getting under his skin and now it’s your turn to help mend the cracks the messy haired captain has accidentally created.

Roco once again turns a request that should have been just a rough jealous angry spicy PWP fic into a whole angst/fluff/comfort fic WITH rough jealous angry spice~

Your heart sinks as the referee blows the whistle signifying the end of the game, pride and disappointment swirling in a confusing mixture inside of you as you rush to your feet, already making your way out of the stands and towards the locker rooms. It had been a good game, a great game, one Nohebi should be proud of regardless of the end result, that Daishou should be proud of. Yet, you know that’s the farthest thing from what any of the boys are thinking of as they dejectedly shake hands with Nekoma, another chance of Nationals taken right from underneath their noses, Daishou’s last chance of Nationals gone, just like that.

You should be paying more attention to your surroundings, especially in such a crowded building with masses of spectators and athletes, but you’re too focused on rushing to your boyfriend as fast as you can, barely dodging the crowds and receiving more than a few dirty looks from people you accidentally bump into in your haste. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is comforting your lover, being there for him and reminding him that he’s still the most amazing person you know regardless of how one game went. And determinedly you quickly hook around the corner of the hall, only to yelp when you crash into something firm, the impact making you stagger back.

Mortification rushes through you once your body steadies itself and you fumble for words, stuttering out apologies when you realize what, or more specifically who, you’ve run into, practically diving to pick up the knee pads the other has dropped because of your carelessness. You can barely bring yourself to look up at the other person’s face, already cringing at the look of irritation you know you’ll receive (and frankly, deserve). But it’s the polite thing to do and your eyes slowly travel up and up a long, lean frame, only to blink in surprise when you see the amused smile on a handsome cat-like face as he plucks his knee pads from your hands.

He looks...familiar and you take a second to appraise him, eyes widening in shock when you recognize the Nekoma uniform and, emboldened by his lack of annoyance, you shyly smile, politely congratulate him on his team’s win and earning their ticket to Nationals.

You’re secretly glad your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, already knowing how childishly competitive he can get, especially where Nekoma is concerned. And you know he’d throw a fit if he saw you “consorting with the enemy”. But it’s the least you can do after running the poor guy over. Plus, Daishou really only has an issue with one person on the team and what are the chances that this athlete is…

“Oya? It’s not everyday someone decides to literally run me over. Nice to meet you. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.”

Crap.

You pray to anyone who’s listening that Daishou doesn’t walk in on this scene, can only imagine how bad it would look to be caught chatting with Kuroo Tetsurou of all people only minutes after Nekoma had swiped Nohebi’s chances of Nationals away from them, even before you’ve talked to your own boyfriend.

But when it rains it pours and unknown to you, narrowed eyes scowl at the both of you from down the hallway.

If Daishou’s honest, the outcome of the match isn’t surprising. Nekoma has always been a stronger team than Nohebi, as aggravating as it is to admit. But it doesn’t make the loss any easier and he knows he’s just looking for a reason to pick a fight when annoyance curls inside of him at how quietly and respectfully Kuroo shakes his hand, not a hint of the other’s usual provoking or teasing after the match is over. He knows it’s out of sportsmanship, but he can’t help but believe he sees his own self-pity reflected in those feline eyes. And he storms out before he accidentally makes a scene, mustering every last bit of his snake-like charm to plaster a smile on his face and force out some pleasantries and kind words to his team, all the while wanting nothing more than to rush into your arms and lock himself away as he comes to terms with his dreams being dashed.

So imagine the stomach sinking shock he feels as he rounds the corner in his search of you, only to stare in disbelief as you smile up at literally the only person in this entire building who he’d rather you not ever meet, the person who led the team that had just crushed his team’s hopes, seemingly in no hurry to excuse yourself.

Shock makes way for hot fiery fury fueled by jealousy and insecurity and before he can fully register what he’s doing, he’s storming towards you, startling both of you when he suddenly cuts in between, rigid and stiff with hostility and anger as he shoves his face mere inches away from Kuroo’s surprised one.

It’s startling to say the least to have his view of you suddenly replaced by a larger figure and Kuroo instinctively steps back, uncertainty filling him when he sees heavy shadows of pure unadulterated ill-intent in Daishou’s eyes.

Interactions with the Nohebi captain are always playful, even if the stinging words aren’t always exactly lighthearted and Kuroo enjoys their bantering and rivalry underscored by respect for each other that both captains would die before admitting to. But this...this is different and Kuroo can’t help but think that somehow they’ve accidentally crossed the line to a point of no return, that something terrible is on the verge of happening, jaw instinctively tightening and fists clenching in self-defense.

“Winning wasn’t enough for you, so now you’re trying to rub more salt in my wounds by hitting on my girl?”

Oh. OH.

Kuroo KNEW you looked familiar, unsure where to place you, but it all makes sense as his brain quickly puts the pieces together, frantically working under pressure as the snake in front of him rattles his tail and hisses. You’re the new girlfriend he’s seen in all of Daishou’s social media posts recently. And suddenly it’s his turn to fumble over words as he tries to calm the furious athlete in front of him, desperately trying to find a way to de escalate the situation without having to resort to anything physical, trying to reassure the other captain that it’s not what it looks like, wincing at how cliche that phrase sounds.

You’re frozen as you watch the taller man continue stammering explanations, stunned by the feral aura radiating from your boyfriend, unsure what’s the best way to approach the situation without exacerbating the issue. But when you see Daishou take a step forward, your hands fly to the back of his jersey, harshly tugging at the fabric in a bid to drag him away from Kuroo, to keep him from doing something stupid that he’d regret.

You wonder if you did the right thing as you cower when he whirls around to face you, pinning you down with a practically murderous gaze. But then you see it, underneath the blazing fires of his eyes, the vulnerable insecurities he keeps so deeply hidden within him, that he’d shared about to you in full confidence, raring back to life and tearing him up inside.

Am I not good enough?

The question is unspoken, but you hear it clear as day and you want to scream at him, touch him, anything to wipe away the torment in his gaze. No, you're more than good enough. So much more. And despite the way you feel like a tiny mouse about to be swallowed whole, you easily let him drag you away, mindlessly following him and lacing your fingers with his bone crushing grip.

It's silent as you scramble to keep up with his determined pace, clutching at his arm and pressing against his side in quiet obedient comfort, a reminder that you're with him every step of the way, out of your own desire and love for him. And although his countenance remains stony, your heart swells when he instinctively leans into your touch, the dark fog around him lightening just a bit.

Not a word is said even as he locks his bedroom door behind the two of you, even as he pulls you onto his bed, wrapping his body tightly around you not unlike the creature he's nicknamed after.

And you let him, ignoring the discomfort you feel as he constricts your body too tightly to be comforting, murmuring how amazing he was on the court, what a respected captain he is, how you know there's still so many opportunities for him in life, volleyball, anything he wants even if Nationals wasn't his fate.

But when he remains silent, you nervously take a deep breath, knowing it's time to address the elephant in the room.

"Suguru, you know I love you, right? I only have eyes for you and no one else. Kuroo-"

You squeal in surprise when you're suddenly pinned to the bed by a toned body, gasping when a hand wraps around your throat rendering you silent, whimpering at the venomous look staring down at you.

"Don't say his fucking name, especially when you're in bed with me."

But you need to explain! Need to clear the air! And you desperately claw at his hand digging into your neck, struggling to force words out, only to moan when lips crash down on yours, a tongue slithering inside of your mouth and ravishing you, fangs harshly nipping at your lips in a warning to remain silent and pliant.

You pant for breath when he finally pulls away, trying to reach up and cradle his face in your hands, keep him still as you explain everything to him. But your efforts are futile and you moan when he promptly spits in your mouth the second you try to open your mouth to speak, body instinctively grinding against his when the hand on your throat tightens once again, mind busy trying to obediently keep his saliva in your mouth while simultaneously breathing through your constricted airway.

"Not a single word from you unless it's about me and how good I'm making you feel, understood? Swallow."

Daishou trained you well and you're quick to gulp down the pooled liquid in your mouth, baring your neck in submission as his lips and teeth possessively mark the expanse of your neck, sucking and biting marks you know you'll be proudly wearing for days afterwards, traveling down and down as your clothes are pulled off and haphazardly thrown away.

The room fills with breathy moans and sighs as you let him have you, let him mark every inch of you, relishing in the slight twinges of pain you feel when teeth sink in too deep, when lips suck too hard all over your collarbones, the valley between your breasts, your rib cage. But you wail when he deems you sufficiently marked, a hot wet mouth wrapping around one of your nipples, fingers harshly twisting and pulling the other.

"DADDY!"

Pride soars inside of Daishou at the nickname, a name he knows only he’s lucky enough to hear from your lips, and he pulls away from your aroused bud just long enough to spit out a few choice words.

“That’s right, baby girl. I’m your daddy. I’m the one who takes care of you. I’m the one who makes you feel good. So why the fuck did daddy find his precious girl chatting it up with some other man like a dirty little slut? Daddy not good enough for you anymore?”

Your head swirls from the degrading words, thighs clenching at hearing his endearing terms for you, but tears pricking at your eyes when you hear the trickle of doubt that seeps into his last question. Shame floods through you as you frantically shake your head, salty droplets leaking from your eyes as you begin to sob, desperately clutching Daishou’s sides and trying to pull him closer to you.

“No, Daddy! Never! Only you! You’re my only daddy. I love you. I’m sorry! I’m your good girl. Please let me show you that I’m your good girl?”

Daishou chuckles, warm fondness beginning to take off the frostiest edges of his insecurities as he watches you flail and fight against his hold in your pursuit of making him feel good, your greedy fingers trying to drag him closer to you, your hips grinding and humping his hardening cock like a bitch in heat as you babble and beg to ride him, suck him off, help him cum.

It’s heartwarming in the most depraved way how loyal and dedicated you are to him, how easily you’ll let yourself fall into debauchery just to please him. And in his heart of hearts, he knows deep down that you’d never betray him, that you love him just as much as he loves you. But the heart and the mind aren’t always on the same page and he can’t help the way his eyes narrow and his stomach twists uncomfortably when he replays the scene of Kuroo and you in the hall, even though he knows the chance of you being swept away so easily by someone else is close to null, even though he knows Kuroo is a decent enough man to back off once he knows you’re a taken woman.

“Settle down, little one. I know you’re a desperate slut for daddy, but today you’re going to behave, okay? You’re going to lay there, let daddy thoroughly remind you who you belong to, and thank me for it, understand?”

It’s a rhetorical question and you barely have time to nod your head before Daishou’s blunt cock head is pressing against your already drenched entrance. You claw at the bedsheets when he suddenly slams in balls deep inside of you, your sopping wet folds easily making way for his cock, and your toes curl at the abrupt stretch, eyes already shamelessly rolling to the back of your head from the sensation of finally being stuffed full.

“Daddy, so good, daddy, daddy, daddy” becomes your mantra, barely discernible amidst your wanton moans as he hardly gives you time to adjust before he’s starting up a brutal pace, hips slamming into yours, balls slapping your ass with every thrust. It’s embarrassing how close to the edge you already are, how you nearly came just from his cock stretching you full, but you can’t help it when Daishou knows your body even better than you, when your pussy is practically molded just for him, trained to be his perfect cock sleeve and you wail as you fall to pieces around his cock, body convulsing and mind shattering from the overwhelming pleasure.

But he doesn’t let up, continuing his relentless onslaught, smirking down at how broken you already look, drool and tears staining your wrecked face, incoherent babbling and wails slipping past your lips as overstimulation begins to wash over you, body now shaking uncontrollably as pain and pleasure swirl inside of you.

“That’s it, baby girl. You’re doing so well. Keep on taking it. Fucking take my cock! This is what you were made for. Being daddy’s cock slave that he fucks silly. Going to use you until you can’t even think about anyone or anything else other than daddy’s cock.”

There’s nowhere else he’d rather be than in between your legs and he swears he could die happy like this, cock buried deep within your tight pussy, would happily live the rest of his life bottomed out inside of you if he had the chance. But he’s only human after all and he can feel his end approaching, balls tightening and pace becoming wild and erratic when he hungrily devours the sight of your lewd state as you dopily smile, brokenly chanting “I’m daddy’s cock slave”, slurring thank yous over and over again. His hand reaches down to furiously rub your clit and all it takes is your second fall from grace, the sensation of your tight walls clamping and clenching around his cock, milking him of all his cum, to empty his balls inside of you.

It’s silent again save for both your shaky breaths as you come down from your respective highs and Daishou carefully slumps down to the side of you, pulling you to also lay on your side, wrapping you in his arms as your lower bodies remain connected, hooking his chin on top of your head and letting you burrow into his neck and cuddle up beside him.

But despite all his earlier bravado, you can feel his scales shift and skin shed as he reveals his softer, more vulnerable side, can feel him slump and his defenses crumble in the way he clings onto you, and you wriggle out of your comfortable position, ignoring the throbbing between your legs and all over you body as you determinedly reposition yourself until the two of you are face to face, forehead and noses pressed against each other.

“Suguru, I love you. I love you so much. You’ll always be more than enough for me.”

You smile at the love and hope you see reciprocated back at you in your lover’s eyes, giggling when it’s quickly replaced by panic and embarrassment as he holds you at arms length, staring in dismay at all the punishing marks he had left all over your body before frantically nearly crushing you as he pulls you tightly back towards him, apologies spilling from his mouth for being so rough, a stupid stereotypically jealous boyfriend. And you roll your eyes as he suddenly starts raving and ranting about how this is somehow all Kuroo’s fault, shutting him up with a forceful kiss of your own, a playful smirk sitting on your face.

“You told me not to mention his name and yet here you are, going on and on about him right after we’ve had sex. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re a little more interested in him than two rival captains should be. Should I be the jealous one?”

You bite back a laugh at the look of pure disgust on Daishou’s face as he stares agape at you, jaw slack and open wide in disbelief at your blasphemous lies, using whatever latent talent you have as an actor to tap a finger to your lips in a parody of an inquisitive thoughtful gesture.

“I’m pretty open minded, Suguru. We can invite him for a threesome if you want. Ooh! Who do you think would top? Kuroo? You’d look so pretty on bottom for once, don’t you think? Or would you prefer to shut him up-”

You squeal in laughter and surprise when you’re suddenly being suffocated and crushed by a heavy weight on top of you, Daishou flipping the two of you over and laying his whole weight on top of you, shoving your face into his chest and grunting at you to shut up as he nuzzles his face into the top of your head and closes his eyes to rest, dragging you to an exhausted slumber with him as his breathing even outs and lulls your own heavy eyelids into shutting.

Somewhere else in Tokyo Kuroo sneezes out of the blue, curiously wondering if someone is talking about him.

#haikyuu smut #daishou x reader #daishou smut #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #daishou #Daishou Suguru #haikyuu x reader

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

The Other Side of Hollywood

Part Six

Word Count: 4.6K+

Author’s Note: UNSAID EMILY TIME BABYYYY! I read something about Luke’s character analysis and how physical touch is one of his love languages and it made me ache, so I wanted to play around with that a little from now on.

Also, not saying that part four predicted the release of the acoustic bright music video but... That’s the exact guitar I imagined and I’m currently very, very happy.

Warnings: sad Luke... Plus a lil threatening language.

Bip bap boom, you’re watching MTV. Here are some links:

Part One, Two, Three, Four, and Five. Masterlist, and Moodboard.

Julie Molina wasn’t an overly stubborn person, but she could certainly set her mind to something and stick with it.

After her conversation with Y/N, and after a search for Luke that came to no avail, Julie didn’t waste any more time or sunlight, marching over to the Patterson’s residence she had visited the week before, of course that time had been in secret. Armed with her mom’s cosiest jumper and Luke’s song in hand, she was banking that asking for forgiveness was easier than permission, that Luke would appreciate what she and Y/N had planned and were executing.

Just as she raised her hand to ring the doorbell, the air next to her shifted, and a moment later Luke had appeared, a frown coming onto his face once he saw her, more from confusion than anything else.

“Luke…”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, Julie’s hand dropping from the doorbell, ready to start the apology she thought would be happening a lot later on in the day.

“Ok, look, I uh…” Julie started, just wondering how to phrase it. “I know you’ve not been doing great and after I saw you here on your birthday-”

“You were spying on me?” Luke asked, his fists clenching. The last thing he needed was another person in his life lying to him, hiding things from him… Even if he was doing the same to Julie. “Even after that speech about boundaries, you were spying on me?” She had been pretty clear with the guys when they first arrived that respecting her boundaries was a must, and now here she was breaking his.

“I know… I’m sorry, it was wrong. But I’m worried about you Luke, we all are.” She confessed, speaking for more than herself, Reggie, and Alex.

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to be.” Luke muttered, turning away from her, leaving Julie to try one last plea.

“You’re not the only person who wants to speak to someone they love and can’t, Luke.” She sighed, and Luke looked down, his anger dissipating at the forlorn look on Julie’s face. She was too young to be so sad.

“You know, I don’t even know what I would say to her, even if she could hear me.” He admitted, hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked out on his front yard. He hated having to cut the grass every week, but now the thought of his dad having to do it made him feel worse, ashamed.

“Yes, you do… You’ve already said it.” Julie smiled, and Luke glanced over. “Trust me, ok?” She asked, and Luke took a moment. He wasn’t quite sure what the girl was getting at, but she seemed sure enough to convince him. He reached over, focusing his energy into his hand to ring the doorbell for her.

“Hello, can I help you?” The voice was that stern sort of warm Luke had grown up with, and for a moment he felt nervous, like his dad was talking to him instead of Julie.

“Hi. I’m Julie.” She introduced herself as Luke watched on, not quite sure how to feel. When he had visited on his own, his parents rarely spoke, the idea of one of them engaging in a full conversation seemed bizarre, far away to him. “Um… I believe you had a son named Luke?”

“Yes, that’s right.” His dad smiled a little at the mention of Luke’s name. “And… And you are again?”

“Julie Molina… Your son’s band used to play in my family’s garage?” Julie introduced herself again, Luke’s dad looking confused, and rightfully so. Luke never told them about the studio, thinking they wouldn’t get it. “I… I came across this song that he wrote, and I figured you might be interested?”

“Um… Well. Well, yes.” Luke’s dad fell over his words a little, shocked by the piece of paper Julie pulled from her back pocket. “Uh, please… please come in. I’m… I’m Mitch.” He introduced himself quickly, stepping out the way of the door to let her inside.

“Nice to meet you…” Julie said with a nod, beginning to follow the man into his home before looking back at Luke, still stood at the door. With a slight gesture, she brought the boy from his daze, and Luke quickly followed into the house before she closed the door.

“Can I, um, get you something?” Mitch offered, not quite sure how to act. A teenage girl had just come to his door with a song his song had written 25 years ago, after all.

“Oh, no. I’m good, thank you.” She politely declined, her eyes catching onto a photo frame sat in the lounge. “Is… Is this your son?” She asked, smiling at the photo of Luke as a kid.

“Yeah, that’s Luke. When he was 2.” Mitch explained, the smile on his face holding a deep sadness in it.

“Do you have any other children?” Julie asked, but Mitch just shook his head, both of them, and Luke, turning their attention to a set of approaching footsteps.

“Did I hear the doorbell?” A sweet voice asked, coming over and hugging Mitch from the side.

“Hi, hon. Um, this is Julie.” Mitch introduced, and Emily smiled over at the girl.

“Hello, Julie… My, that’s a beautiful sweater.” She complimented, and Julie smiled, looking down at the clothing item.

“Thank you… It was my mom’s.”

“Julie lives in the house where Luke and the band used to rehearse.” Mitch told his wife, who lost her smile at the thought of her son. “She was just telling me she found a song that Luke wrote.” Julie glanced down at the paper as Mitch spoke, holding it out to the pair.

“It’s a song about a girl named Emily?” She questioned, Luke’s mom’s face becoming one of stun.

“Oh… I’m Emily…” She whispered, and Julie smiled a little.

“Then I think your son may have written this song for you.” Julie replied, handing over the piece of paper, and taking a step back as Luke’s mom unfolded it with shaky hands, her husband holding her as he read over her shoulder.

“First things first, we start the scene in reverse. All of the lines rehearsed disappeared from my mind.” Luke found himself sitting down on the couch, right in his old spot, and beginning to sing as memories of his leaving home flashed before his eyes. “When things got loud, one of us running out, I should have turned around, but I had too much pride. No time for goodbyes, didn't get to apologise. Pieces of a clock that lies broken…”

It was Christmas Day, and he had argued with his parents about the band… Again. He had dropped out of school, they were furious… Threatened military camp on him to straighten him out, get his head back in the game. And he just yelled at her, he refused to stay in that house… The last time he saw her alive, and she had tears streaming down her face, he had angry words on his tongue, hate in his heart…

“If I could take us back… If I could just do that. And write in every empty space the words I love you in replace, and every time would not erase me. If you could only know I never let you go. And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave… Unsaid Emily.” He couldn’t stop the tears running down his cheeks, just imagining what it must have been like for them, to see those flashing lights on the night he died, to know they would never get him back.

It was like magic, a sudden sound following his words: an instrument he couldn’t quite pin down, the melodies it created around him so warm and full and powerful. Luke glanced up when it appeared, and Julie glanced back at him, both confused where it had come from but trying their best not to react, Luke choosing to keep singing while Julie watched on.

“Silent days, mysteries and mistakes. Who'd be the first to break? Guess we're alike that way…” Luke continued, the unknown instrument accompanying him with deep, resonating notes. “He said, she said, conversations in my head. And that's just where they're gonna stay forever. If I could take us back… If I could just do that. And write in every empty space the words I love you in replace, then maybe time would not erase me. If you could only know I never let you go. And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave… Unsaid Emily.”

“If I could take us back. If I could just do that. And write in every empty space the words I love you in replace then maybe time would not erase me.” A familiar voice, light and airy and sweet, joined in alongside Luke, and slowly he linked the dots together in his head, figuring out just who and what had joined his song. “If you could only know I never let you go. And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave.” Her voice dropped away, as did the instrument. “Unsaid Emily.”

Somehow, from God knows where, she had sung with him again…

And played along on her cello.

“Thank you…” Emily whispered through tears, holding the paper tight to her chest, Julie wiping away tears of her own.

“You have no idea…” Mitch started, but the words got caught in his throat. Julie nodded gently, seeing Luke stand up from the couch in her peripheral.

“I write music in the same room that he did. And I can tell you it is a magical, happy place.” She promised, bringing a smile to both their faces.

“That’s so nice to know.” Mitch held his wife tighter, her hand on top of his as they allowed themselves their first truly happy thought of Luke in decades: there was no clouding from anger, no melancholy tinting the edges: he had forgiven her, forgiven them, he had missed them, he had loved them, despite everything.

“I know he was only 17 when he…” Julie swallowed the lump in her throat, cutting herself off. “But he lived doing the one thing he was born to do. Not many people find that, but Luke did.” She smiled softly, Luke swiping his tears on his sleeve and leaving with the faintest of sounds, one Julie knew well. “He was lucky.”

“It was. It was so nice to meet you.” Emily held Julie’s hand in her own, the three sharing in that moment.

“It was nice to meet you too.” Julie wiped another tear away quickly, Luke’s parents walking her to the door, Emily holding tight to the last piece of her son she really had left.

As she closed the door behind her, and after finding Luke had completely disappeared from the house, Julie started the walk home under a slowly setting sun. Questions she couldn’t quite piece together rattled through her head the entire way, unable to figure out what she was trying to ask, let alone answer it. But as she came up to her own front porch to find Luke leaning against her bannister with, fiddling with the lucky blue rabbit foot he had on him at all times though she had never really taken notice of it before, the questions began piecing themselves into place.

“Hey.” She said softly, drawing his eyes up from his hand.

“Hey.” Luke replied.

“I’m sorry for overstepping.” She apologised as she made her way up the porch steps, but Luke shook his head in response.

“No I… I just had to leave. That was just…” He paused for a moment, finding his own words. “I didn’t have many regrets in my life except for running out on my parents. Especially my mom, so… Thank you.” He managed, the pair moving and finding themselves leaning on the bannister, looking out on the yard, up at the stars that had slowly begun to appear in the sky.

“You know, I wouldn’t have gotten the idea if it wasn’t for Y/N.” Julie said after a second, and Luke turned his head, staggered by her words. Y/N, of all people, had helped Julie with this? Y/N, who worked for Caleb trying to enslave their souls for eternity? “I know you guys had a big fight, she told me… And after hearing about her mom, how similarly you both left things… And I thought if I did this, if you knew she had helped, maybe you two would work it out…”

“It’s a little more complicated than an argument…” Luke confessed, running his hand through his hair. “How is she?” He asked, and Julie smiled a little.

“It’s an interesting little relationship you and she have, isn’t it?” She commented, earning a chuckle from Luke. “She’s… She’s good at hiding it, thinks I haven’t noticed… It’s like she’s unwell.” Julie said softly, looking back up at the stars. Looking over at her, Luke felt that shame building up again.

How could he keep lying to her? All Julie had been was a great friend, a confidant… His family. Not just his, but family for Alex and Reggie too. And now, knowing what Y/N had done and finding out that Julie had made a friend in her too? How could he stand by and let it all be ripped away from her, just like her mom had been?

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Luke said quickly, making the decision to tell her before he fully weighed out the impacts it could have. It would better she know now, right? Before she could get hurt further? “We figured out that we have unfinished business. That’s why we came back as ghosts.”

“Oh… What is it?” She asked, the pair turning to face each other properly.

“We have to play the show we never got to play.” Luke said with a chuff, Julie nodding along.

“At the Orpheum? That makes sense.” She said with a weak smile, that quickly disappeared as Luke was hit with a flash of light and thrown into one of the porch’s support beams.

“But we don’t have a lot of time…” Luke muttered through the pain, Julie’s eyes widening as she watched Luke crumple into himself.

“What was that? Are you ok?” She asked, panic setting in, and Luke sighed, shaking his head.

“We did something that we shouldn’t have… The night we missed the dance, at the club… The owner put this curse on us… And if we don’t do what he says, then those jolts will destroy us.” Luke tried to explain it as simply as he could, more for his own benefit that Julie’s: it hurt to talk.

“Well then you gotta do what he says. What does he want?” Julie asked, confused as to why the boys hadn’t just solved this with following this club owner’s requests.

“He wants us to be in his house band for eternity…”

“But that doesn’t make sense! Why would Y/N…” Julie stopped, frowning. “She’s a part of this, isn’t she? That’s why you fell out…”

“Exactly… But, if we can play the Orpheum soon, then we can avoid all that and actually cross over.” Luke said quickly, pulling himself back to his feet.

“Cross over? As in, like what? Like go to heaven?” Julie asked quickly, her voice cracking.

“That’s what we’re banking on…”

“So it’s either cross over, be in his band for eternity, or be destroyed by those jolts?” Julie clarified it, and Luke muttered a soft ‘yeah’. “That’s just great. This is all just great.” She muttered, opening her front door, and then promptly slamming it closed in Luke’s face, rushing up to her room in the hopes she could find some privacy.

“She’s gonna be upset for a while, but she’ll come to terms with it.” Luke whipped around, finding the last person he wanted to see at the bottom of the porch steps. “Hey, Denim…” Y/N said softly, a weak smile on her face as her hands ran over her arms, the cold that had slowly set in with the sunset causing her to shiver.

“Don’t talk to me.” Luke said plainly, his voice lacking any sort of emotion as he sauntered down the steps and down the pathway to the studio. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“What, now I’m not allowed to speak in my own defence?” She asked, marching after him down the pathway that a week ago she had been excited and nervous to be on. Now, she just felt sick. “Luke, I’m sorry, alright?!” She called once they reached the edge of the driveway, Luke almost at the garage doors. He stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at her.

“Sorry?” He laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You did this, all of it! Even when you knew what this band meant to all of us!” He answered back, his voice raised, causing movement from inside the garage. “Sorry doesn’t cut it.”

“I just want to-”

“To help?! You’ve done enough, Y/N…” He interrupted her as Alex and Reggie came through the studio doors, wanting to know what all the commotion was about. “At least Willie had the decency to own up to his mistakes. You?” He paused for a moment, almost like he wasn��t sure on his next words. “You’re just a bad person, Y/N.”

“Luke…” Alex muttered, talking in Y/N’s defence.

“What, Alex? Am I wrong? Like Willie said, she wanted the challenge…” Luke turned away again, heading for the safety of the studio to wallow in his self-pity: he was, after all, dying.

“You’re not the only person Caleb took things from, alright?!” Y/N finally spoke up, the words wavering as she spoke. In fact, her whole body seemed to tremble. “I want to help, in whatever way I can…” She was begging, but Luke was done listening, leaving her with Alex and Reggie outside.

“… We’ll talk to him, we can-” Reggie started, his heart aching at the sight of Y/N: she was so genuinely hurt by Luke’s words, they actually meant something to her.

“He’s… He’s made up his mind about me.” She shook her head. “I’ll… If…” She wiped her cheeks from the tears, and swallowed back another sob. “Just, I’m here to help if you need me.” She promised, and Alex sent a sad smile her way, Reggie a limp wave, and with that she disappeared into the night, leaving the pair to deal with their bandmate.

A rap at her door later that night brough Julie from whatever daze she had been in for the last hour or so, Flynn shuffling in with a pity-filled smile at the sight of her best friend. After years, Flynn was astute in dissecting Julie’s body language: she knew when her best friend was happy, or sad, or nervous.

Right now, Julie looked defeated, and it was something Flynn hadn’t seen since Julie’s mom died.

“I got your text…” Flynn said as she came to a stop near Julie’s bed. What she had actually received was a keyboard smash without a single discernible word, but it was enough to rush Flynn over.

“Don’t come too close. Anyone I seem to care about disappears.” Julie said with a sigh, putting the cap on the pen she had been colouring with.

“You can’t get rid of me. I’m like the crazy glue of best friends.” Flynn reminded, and Julie almost smiled.

“I just don’t get it. Right when my life starts to get good.” It made sense she was angry, it seemed like the universe was now taking back everything it had given. “Great friend, great band, a trending video on Youtube… Then bam!” She lifted up her sketch book to show Flynn a mushroom cloud, her name exploding into fragments at the base.

“I seriously don’t know why all of this is happening to you, but that’s gonna be a great album cover one day.” Flynn side tracked, getting another half-smile off of Julie, She sat herself on her best friend’s floor by the old trunk that had found it’s place at the base of Julie’s bed, and picked up the jump Julie had thrown to the ground earlier in her upset state, beginning to fold it and sort it back into the trunk.

“You don’t have to do that.” Julie quickly said as she took the lid off a new pen, a light orange this time, to add extra dimensions of fire to her explosion piece.

“I know, but I get to check out all your mom’s cool stuff.” Flynn said with a smile, beginning to look through the trunk before stopping on a white top. “Whoa…” She muttered, garnering Julie’s attention as she unfolded the tee. “Did you know this was in here?” She asked, showing the graphic to Julie: Sunset Curve.

“What the hell?” Julie scoffed, blinking a few times to make sure she was seeing right.

“How do you think she got it?”

“I… I don’t know, but the guys said they didn’t know my mom.” She paused for a second, looking up at Flynn. “Why would they lie?” She asked. It was out of character for them, even after what happened that day.

“… Maybe they didn’t.” Flynn suggested, getting to her feet so she could pace through her following words. “Maybe she knew them… She could be a fan!” She came to the conclusion quickly, a smile on her face.

“I mean… Sunset Curve was playing the Hollywood club scene around then?” Julie gave the idea some grounding, though it felt doubtful: what were the chances that in a city of so many, her mom would have heard Sunset Curve play?

“Oh my God… What if you were right?” Flynn asked, and with a raise of Julie’s eyebrow, she explained further. “What if the guys are connected to your mom? Through music or something.”

“Because she bought their t-shirt?”

“Think about it.” Flynn was holding her point firm, waiting for Julie to see her side of things. “They were the ones who made you wanna play music again! Maybe she knew they could help you.”

“So, you mean to tell me that my mom is somewhere out there planning all this?” Julie asked, and Flynn glanced to the side: hearing it like that, it sounded a little far-fetched. “If she wanted me to play music again, why wouldn’t she just tell me herself?”

“Maybe she can’t. Maybe she has to do it another way. You know, through signs.” Flynn suggested, and Julie eased up a little. “You been through these clothes how many times and haven’t found this t-shirt? Why now?” Flynn asked, only to answer her own question. “This is another sign!” She exclaimed, and Julie sighed. “I’m just saying! It’s not over, Julie.”

“Really? Signs?”

“You’re in a ghost band.” Flynn said simply. “It’s a crazy world… Look, you’re gonna lose them no matter what. And it sucks. But they helped bring you back to life. Now it’s your turn to help them.” In moments like this, Julie was convinced Flynn should be a motivational speaker. “They have to cross over… Let them go.”

The words were enough to force Julie off her bed to hug her friend tight, the pair walking downstairs: one headed home, the other headed to family.

“Snap out of it!” Julie yelled after entering the studio, startling the boys from their stupor, sending Alex from the couch to the floor in the process, his drumsticks clattering across the room.

“Jeez, I think you broke Alex.” Reggie muttered, cradling his bass in his arms.

“Do you guys want to cross over or not?” Julie asked, and while Luke hated to admit it, Y/N had been right: it seemed like Julie had come to terms with their predicament. “Get it together!” Julie demanded again, clapping after each word, and earning an eye roll from the guitarist.

“They’re never gonna let us play the Orpheum.” Luke said with a sigh, his words followed by Alex and Reggie reminding Julie of the fact.

“We’re nobody.”

“We’re less than nobody. We have no bodies.” Reggie gestured to himself as he spoke, receiving a snap of the fingers from Luke in agreement, and Julie took a power stance.

“Someone once told me that you don’t ask for permission.” Julie said, earning a light chuckle from Luke. “You book gigs by doing.”

“That was me.” Reggie said with quite a smug look.

“No, it wasn’t.” Julie and Luke replied in near unison, sending a frown to Reggie’s features as he hugged his bass closer.

“This isn’t over.” Julie continued her pitch. “We were brought together for a reason: to help each other.”

“Yeah, but like Luke said, people don’t just play the Orpheum because they want to.” Alex sighed, and Julie smirked in response, folding her arms.

“People don’t, but ghosts do.”

The waves rolled further and further up the shoreline, the tide coming in late that night under a thin sheet of drizzle, perhaps the first rainfall the city had encountered since March time. The cloud cover veiled the moon’s glow, leaving the beach in near complete darkness. Had someone not been well-versed in the beach’s layout, they would have never been able to venture onto the sands in fear of tripping over the rocks that stuck up from the ground.

Or, you know, if they were a ghost.

“Where’s the smile, my little sunset? Aren’t you happy to see me?” The first of two figures sat atop a boulder at the beach’s far end asked over the rolling waves, his legs hanging over the edge, a cane on his lap. When he didn’t receive a reply from his counterpart, a girl, with her knees up to her chin as she silently sobbed away the pain. “You know, I forget sometimes that you’ll always be a 17 year old…” He commented. “All full of emotion and unkempt rebellion. First you rebelled against your parents… And now me.

“I heard you today, trying out that cello…” She looked up at that, and he smirked. “Oh yeah, you thought you were alone, but you’ve clearly forgotten that I own you, Y/N. I know you’ve been visiting the lifer, been trying to help them…” He paused. “I know that Willie’s been up to no good.”

“Leave him out of this.” She muttered, and as the moon finally came out from behind a cloud, the light caused Caleb’s smile to shine pearly white in the darkness.

“There she is. Now, let’s have a conversation, a negotiation.” Caleb stood up, prompting Y/N to follow suit, the pair walking down the boulder and onto the sands below, beginning a stroll over the landscape.

“They don’t… Luke hates me, Caleb. He won’t let me help them. I’m not your insider.” She stated simply.

“You’re what I tell you to be, sunset. So, my proposal is simple.” He stopped, and Y/N turned to look back at him. “You are going to help me. They are going to be playing my club by tomorrow night. And in reward, I’ll offer you… Something you can’t refuse.” Caleb laughed, and Y/N found herself finally looking up at him.

“What do I get?” She asked, quickly sniffing, and wiping the last of her tears away.

“First, I end Willie’s contract.” Caleb offered, and Y/N’s eyes widened. “I know, a radical idea, but I know you. After 25 years of service, seems only fair you get something out of this.”

“You said first… What’s the second thing?” She asked, trying to not get caught up in the emotion. What could be more valuable than Willie’s soul?

“Now Y/N… You’re young, not stupid.” Caleb tutted, and took a step forward. “Why is it you can only remember your afterlife properly? Why you keep dreaming of things that didn’t happen? Why you’ve spent your entire afterlife afraid of music?” He asked, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Do what I ask, Y/N, and I’ll give back what I stole from you…”

“I’ll give back your real memories.”

Part Seven is here...

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passable-talent · 4 years

Note

Is this even necessary? Yes please part 6!!!

and so we return, one whole month later

After Azula’s attack, and the forced flee from the Western Air Temple, you spent a few days being pissed at Zuko. Like, really pissed. You didn’t speak to him at all. This was something that concerned and confused the prince, because it had seemed like the two of you were making real progress only a few nights before.

What had happened?

He didn’t try to fix it before he left with Katara. Partially, he thought, to give you space, and because he assumed that your issue would be easier to fix than Katara’s. So for a day or so you simmered, just like you had back at the Western Air Temple, rage as always masking your hurt.

When he returned, and things with Katara settled down, he found you perched among the jagged stones that lined the pathway up to his family’s old vacation home. You were still hidden here, but felt even excluded from the team, which let you think, and sulk.

“Y/N,” he said, announcing his presence as he climbed up the rock. You had your back to him, and your shoulders tensed up. You didn’t face him.

“What do you want,” you asked, giving him a shoulder so cold he’d lose his firebending.

“I want to know why you’re angry with me,” he said, and you looked up at the sky, frustrated, as though he should clearly know without you needing to tell him.

“That so?” You spat, and as you weren’t wearing shoes, you sensed as he walked closer to you, arms at his sides. It seemed he was attempting to be non-threatening.

“Yes. I realized I’ve done a lot of explaining, and not much listening. Whatever is keeping you so angry at me, I’ll listen.” You fixed your gaze to the stone in front of you, glaring, before you shut your eyes tightly. Your fists tightened up, and you brought your arms to your chest, and it was like your body was contracting to prepare for an explosion.

It was.

“You want to know why I’m angry with you?” You shouted, turning around while throwing your hands down to your sides, “it’s because you’re so stupid!” Your gaze avoided his, but not purposefully, instead because your anger manifested in rapid movements while you spoke. “You get ambushed by your psychopathic sister, who has been known to manipulate you, and you- you go after her anyway?” You held up your hand, four fingers shown to him, just in case he’d forgotten how to count.

“She had four airships. And you had nothing. No backup. You didn’t let Aang or I follow you, and you charge off into battle.” You leaned forward, a snarl on your lips.

“I watched you fall. I thought you died!” With the final exclamation of your anger, you stepped forward and shoved him backwards, but with a twist of your planted front foot you moved out of the way some of the jagged rocks he might’ve stumbled or fallen onto. Anger finally released, your expression turned to one of pain, of fear, of sadness.

“You told me you’d make it up to me. You can’t do that if you’re dead.” You turned to the side, now avoiding his gaze as he collected himself from the ground, and felt tears begin to fall.

“For so long I mourned Lee, right? Thought that the guy I loved was gone, because who you are isn’t who he was. And I finally figure out that that’s not true, that you are almost as good as I thought you were, and then I think you’ve died...” you trailed off, wiping the wetness of your face with a roll of your shoulder.

“I’ve already mourned Lee, I cant mourn Zuko, too, okay? I don’t want you to die, especially not by something stupid, like charging into a battle you couldn’t win.” You turned your eyes back to him, and found him staring at you, an expression you’d never quite seen on his face. It wasn’t a clear expression that you could pin, other than that he looked so... young. Surprised, almost.

“What?” You asked, voice still a bit jumpy from being choked up.

“You said you loved me.” It took a mental backtrack through your words to realize that you had, indeed.

“Zuko...” you breathed, and you turned toward the horizon, where the sun had long ago dunked into the ocean but still it reddened the sky. You brought your hands to the other’s bicep, as though it could help you protect your heart, and you forced some of your own hesitation away as you breathed out.

“Zuko, I loved you,” you admitted, finally, and that rush of it almost made tears re-emerge. “I did. You were sweet and funny and we got on so well.” You heard him step toward you, and you looked away from where he was near to being. “But the reality I thought I was living in... the floor fell out from under me. The Dai Li were secretive, and they weren’t what I thought they were. Iroh wasn’t just a kind old man, but was a fire nation general. The new leader of the Dai Li wasn’t a brilliant young soldier, but was a fire nation princess. A manipulative and snakish warrior who wanted to topple the earth kingdom. There was a war going on I’d never even heard of!” After the volume of your statement drained away, you hung your head, closing your eyes before your gaze could find the ground.

“And I wouldn’t have minded finding out you were the prince of the fire nation. Some part of me says I should’ve figured it out myself. What hurt me was that... you had so much more anger than I thought you did. Sure, you could be moody, but when we found you in those catacombs, the way you looked at Aang...” You let out a breath, and opened your eyes to look out over the ocean.

“I didn’t know you could be so... malicious. It was something I’d never seen from you before.” You turned your gaze to him, and let your mind wander to the moment when you stood between him and Katara, when Aang was dying. You remembered that predatory look in his eye.

“Did you even see me, that day? Or could you only think about getting to Aang?”

He didn’t answer, and you spared him from needing to. You didn’t think you wanted to know his answer.

“I think that I’ve blamed you for everything that went wrong that day. Aang’s death, your betrayal, the Dai Li’s betrayal. And I guess that isn’t fair. But I can’t seem to let it go.” You felt tears well up again, and Zuko slowly slipped his hand into yours.

“I want to forgive you,” you said, squeezing your palm around his fingers, “I want to let go of all this anger, and grief, a-and confusion, but I look at you and I... I see this boy who made the wrong choice. And that’s so frustrating, because you’ve made the right choice, again and again, you’ve defended us and helped us and fought alongside us. It’s not fair of me to focus on your mistakes when you’ve been making up for them.” You took a deep breath, and with its shaky exhale, let go of some of the sadness still clawing at you.

“I just want to let it go, so I can love you again.” There was an instant’s pause, when the prince took in your words, an instant’s pause in which the waves crashed on the shoreline and a bird cawed overhead. An instant’s pause, and then Zuko tugged you by the hand into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You hugged him back, tightly, almost squishing his torso into yours while a final few trembling breaths fought their way out of your lungs.

“I’m sorry,” he said to your shoulder, and you could hear emotion in his voice. “You deserve so much better than me. I’m so sorry. I- Y/N, I loved you then, too. If it weren’t for you, I might not have had the courage to leave the fire nation. You helped me change, and you didn’t even know it. Please, please don’t be mad at yourself.”

“I’m glad I met you,” you whispered, when a few moments had gone by.

“Me too,” he said back, laying his face down and into the crook of your neck.

You could’ve stood there and hugged him forever. You could’ve stayed in his arms, where you knew it was safe to be conflicted. He understood, and didn’t ask you to change, or make a decision. Maybe Zuko was better than Lee after all- he was flawed, but he chose to overcome those flaws and be a better person in spite of them.

It made him stronger. And, you thought, it would make you stronger.

Your heart had been broken. You’d been lied to, and cast aside. But you found it in yourself to forgive him, and to be honest with him, and to keep him close to you.

“Zuko?”

“Hmm?” You pulled from his chest, your eyes dry of their tears but heart still raw and open. You were ready to forgive him, and to move forward.

But there was one more thing.

“I need you to tell me what happened to Iroh.”

request for pt 7

edit: pt 7 requested!!

edit: | part 7 | part 8 |

-🦌 Roe

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Something Stupid

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Word Count: 25,159 Chapters: 6 of 6 Complete Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Hotch, Fluff and smut, Light angst, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Getting together, Minor background Garcia/Prentiss

Summary: All it takes to turn Sophie Cortes's life upside down is getting bashed over the head with a fire extinguisher. And sleeping with her boss. Note: This is a reformatted, previously published work. :)

Link to A03 or read Chapter 1 below!

All it takes to turn Sophie Cortes's life upside down is getting bashed over the head with a fire extinguisher. And sleeping with her boss.

There had been a case, of course—there’s always a case—and the victims were all Latina runners in their early 30s, abducted from a local park, so they took the very specific victim profile as an opportunity to use her as bait. It was all pretty straightforward, except the unsub escalated, upgraded from using the ‘lost dog’ trick to try to lure her to his car to just straight up knocking her unconscious from behind, and Hotch and the team were too late to grab her before the unsub loaded her into the trunk of his car to take her to his disgusting torture den. Thankfully, they caught him before he got her out of the park.

She was fine in the end, just some swelling and tenderness where he’d brained her with the fire extinguisher he kept in his car, and though it was kind of scary to hear it all retold by Spencer and JJ on the flight home, she knows her team did everything they could to get to her, and that they were ultimately successful, and that’s really all that mattered.

At least, it was, until Hotch showed up at her door that night.

“Hey, Hotch, what—what’s up? Is everything okay?” she asks, confused, because he’s… he’s rumpled, no jacket, tie loose, hair a mess like he’s been running his hands through it, and—when she gets close enough to smell him—he reeks of alcohol. She’s never seen him like this, ever, in the last two years she’s worked under him.

He looks down at her, and his eyes aren’t glassy, at least; they’re as dark and serious as ever, staring into hers like he’s seeing every shadowy secret she keeps locked away beneath her delightfully sarcastic exterior. It makes her feel hot—not sexy hot, but exposed, self-conscious, unsettled: the mortifying ordeal of being known. She’s about to ask him what the fuck is going on when he surges forward to kiss her, and she wraps her arms around him, kisses him too, stumbling backward into her apartment until her body bumps against the kitchen island and shocks her back to reality.

“Are you out of your mind?” she asks, shoving lightly at his shoulders so he’ll give her some room to breathe. His chest is heaving, and so is hers, and he reaches up a careful hand, brushes it over the bump on the back of her head from the incident earlier that day.

“Do you have any idea what I would have done if we couldn’t get to you in time?” His voice is low, a little raspy, and she swallows hard, looks up at his gentle face. The Hotch who just kissed her isn’t a man she knows, and this version of him isn’t someone she recognizes, either. He has always behaved toward her the way she behaves toward her brother’s wife’s family at the holidays: like she’s a person who just happens to be there, and he’ll be cordial, and respond when spoken to, but he’ll breathe a little easier when she’s gone.

It used to hurt. It doesn’t anymore.

“Um, I don’t know. The same thing you’d do for anyone: look for witnesses, pull security footage of the park entrances, put an APB out on the car—” He laughs, something humorless, and shakes his head like she’s being dense.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean, do you have any idea what I,” he takes her hand and presses it to his chest, over his heart, covers it with his, “would have done if we couldn’t get to you in time?”

“You don’t really give me the time of day any other time, so what makes you think I’d expect anything from you?” she asks, and she knows it’s a little harsh, but she can’t take it back now. “You are my boss, Hotch. You’re not my friend, you’re not… you’re not anything to me.”

“But that’s not exactly true, is it?” He doesn’t even bristle at her tone, her words, just continues to stand in front of her, looking soft. She kind of wants to hate him for it. “The reason I don’t give you the time of day, as you said, is because we’re something to each other. You know it, I know it.” He brushes his thumb over her cheek, tender and affectionate. “I feel it every time I’m close to you, and I know you feel it too. And we’ve both pushed each other away because we know it can’t happen.”

She wets her lips, because this is actually the mortifying ordeal of being known: he’s absolutely right, she has wanted him for almost two years, can’t stop her eyes from sweeping over his tall, strong body when he straps on his bulletproof vest, can’t stop imagining his hands on her when he pushes up his sleeves if they take a case in a humid Southern state. She looks at him and thinks of his mouth on her throat, her legs wrapped around his waist, his thick thighs supporting her while she moves in his lap until they both give in to the pleasure and collapse against each other, panting, gasping, wishing they had the stamina for more.

But like he said, it can’t happen, and if that’s the reason he’s been keeping his distance? She really can’t be angry about that, because she’s been doing the same thing.

“You can’t do this. You can’t just come here—drunk, by the way—and kiss me, and act like you like me, like you care, just because I got hurt. You can’t, Hotch.”

“Why not? Because you truly don’t want me to? Because if that’s the case, I’ll leave. We can pretend this never happened, if that’s what you truly want.” He looks solemn, now, and she knows that he would drop it if she asked him to. “But if it’s just because you’re afraid of what will happen if we give in… I’ve been there, Sophie. I’ve reminded myself of the consequences of this every single for... longer than I'd like to admit. But seeing you hurt today… I would never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to show you how much you mean to me, how devastated I would be if anything happened to you. That’s all I want to show you.” He presses his hands to her face again, softly, leans in just a little. “Can I show you?”

She should tell him no. She should push him away again, call him a cab, send him home, and request a transfer in the morning. It might hurt now, but it would all be for the best in the end.

But Sophie has never really been known for doing things with her own best interest in mind.

She bridges the distance, kisses him deeply, hands sliding up his back to pull him closer for more. He lifts her up onto the kitchen island, stands between her knees, and she slips her fingers into his already fucked up hair, legs wrapping around his waist. His lips move to her throat, and she tips her head back, sighs at the feel of his hot mouth against her skin; when he pulls back, she tugs her t-shirt over her head, and he kisses down her collarbone, brushes his lips over her breast, her peaked nipple, so that she tightens her fingers in his hair.

“Sophie,” he sighs, looking up at her with those deep, dark eyes, and she reaches down to get his pants open, to untuck his shirt. If he’s so desperate to show her how he feels tonight, to show her emotion this once, maybe she’ll make it quick and dirty and then call him that cab and go to bed feeling awful about herself. Maybe she’ll request the transfer anyway.

Except… that’s not what she wants. She doesn’t want quick and dirty, she doesn’t want one and done. She wants him, wants to get to look at him every day without feeling guilty, wants to see more of the tender side of him he’s displayed tonight. She wants to wake up with him, go to bed with him, and everything in between.

She brings his mouth to hers for a soft, slow, passionate kiss, and then she pulls off his tie, his shirt, his undershirt. He helps with the rest of their clothes, and she takes his hand, guides him toward her bedroom, where there’s nothing left between them: no clothing, no hesitancy, no consequences. At least for tonight.

They kiss so much her lips feel bruised, and his hands caress every inch of her body like he’s drafting a map and needs to familiarize himself with the terrain: the curve of her calf, the slope of her breasts, the contours of her waist, the depth of her aching pussy. He dips his fingers inside her, praises her wetness, then bends to taste it, lifts her hips and devours her until she comes shaking and moaning his name.

Then he presses into her, thick and solid, but that’s not the best part; no, it’s when he rolls his hips up, sinking so deeply, so completely inside of her that she can’t even tell where she ends and he begins. She grips his back, rocks to meet each slow, thorough thrust, her body sliding further and further up the bed while he lays claim to her, his teeth sinking into her throat like it’s a soft, ripe peach and not overheated flesh and tendon. It hurts, and it feels so good.

“Oh, god,” she breathes, because she’s never had a man take her apart so thoroughly; but that’s it, isn’t it? He is a man, without performative six-pack abs the guys her age spend their days in the gym trying to achieve, in their place a strong core capable of pinning her to the bed, powerful thighs hard and unyielding against hers as he works desperately to fill her with his come. His arms support his weight, provide leverage, and she turns her head to mouth at his forearm as it flexes, as his fingers dig into the sheets because he feels exactly as much pleasure as she does, she just knows it. “Yes, Aaron.”

A thin film of sweat forms on his back, and her hands slip, so she sinks fingers in his hair, clutches his shoulder, pants and gasps into his mouth until he climaxes inside her, his hips pistoning faster for a moment before slowing altogether. He brushes the pads of his fingers over her lips, and she swipes her tongue over them just to taste him, and then he slides them down to glide over her swollen clit. “Come for me,” he murmurs in her ear, rubbing and grinding inside her as he softens, and she whimpers, hips stuttering against him, her second orgasm even stronger than the first.

They kiss more, smoothing their hands over each other, pressing noses and lips to foreheads, cheeks; Sophie feels so many emotions fighting for dominance it makes her head ache—and then she remembers the injury on her scalp that’s still fresh, and it makes her head ache worse.

Aaron can probably see it on her face, because he leans up, carefully turns her head to the side, and presses down on the area surrounding the bump. She closes her eyes; it feels so good she almost wants to purr.

“Did you pick up that prescription?” he asks softly as he massages her head, and her eyelids flutter open at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah, it’s in the bathroom,” she murmurs, gesturing to the master bath, and he makes a soft noise of understanding, climbs off the bed; he returns with a warm, wet cloth, a pain pill, and a glass of water, all of which she accepts gratefully.

“I should probably stay here tonight—to make sure you don’t have a concussion,” he adds when her eyebrows shoot up her forehead, making her wince. “If you want me to.” They both know she’s already been cleared by a doctor, and it’s not that she doesn’t want him to—unfortunately, she wants it more than anything—but she doesn’t feel up to arguing about her particular brand of commitment issues right now, so she just nods softly.

“Please, stay.” She threads her fingers through his hair, and guides him down for another kiss, and when her headache goes away she sinks into sleep with his arm wrapped around her waist and his nose buried in her hair. Sophie wakes up the next morning, makes coffee, a smoothie—Aaron’s dead to the world, because he doesn’t even stir when she pulses coconut milk and mango and greens in her Vitamix a little bit longer than necessary. She stalks into her bedroom, leans toward him on the bed, shakes his shoulder. “Aaron. You need to go.”

“What?” he grumbles, lifting his face off the pillow to seek her out; he has some serious bedhead, and a crease on his cheek from the pillowcase, and he’s still the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen in her life. It’s completely unfair.

“It’s 7:00—I’m going running, and you need to go home and get showered and dressed before work. There’s coffee made, your clothes are hanging in the closet over there. You can lock up behind you when you go.” She makes to head for the door, but he turns onto his back and reaches for her, taking her arm and pulling her closer.

“Don’t do that, please.” His voice is rough with sleep, but he’s awake now, looking like he’s ready to further complicate her life. The worst part is that she’ll probably let him. “Don’t treat me like a one night stand you’re never going to see again.” She sighs.

“I’m not. I’m treating you like my hungover unit chief who is bare-ass naked in my bed and who’s going to be late to work if he doesn’t get moving.” She tries for stern, but the corners of her mouth twitch up against her will. “So get moving.”

“Give me five minutes,” he says, and he brushes his hand over her cheek like she’s something precious. “I’ll walk you out.” She agrees, doesn’t see the harm—she likes knowing for herself that the place is locked up, anyway, so it makes sense.

He dresses quickly, and she drinks her smoothie, fills a travel mug with coffee for him, with two sugars, the way he likes it. When they step out into the hallway, he tries to kiss her goodbye, but she turns her face to take it on the cheek instead, making him sigh. He heads downstairs to his car, and she locks the deadbolts, looking up when a flash of hot pink catches her eye.

It’s her neighbor, Jazmine. She’s tall, leanly muscled, with chestnut colored skin—boisterous, flashy, the up-all-night-partying type, so she’s probably just getting in—and she raises an eyebrow in Sophie’s direction.

“He’s cute.”

“He’s my boss,” she explains quickly. “I got hurt at work yesterday and he stayed over to make sure I didn’t have a concussion.” Jazmine nods, looking like she 100% does not believe her.

“Uh huh. You don’t have to explain yourself to me, girl. I’m just glad your dry spell is over; these walls are thin, so I know the only relationship you’ve been having is with your vibrator.” Sophie’s cheeks heat, and she fights to get the key out of the deadbolt so she can get herself the fuck out of this awkward conversation.

“That’s not true; I have two vibrators,” she mumbles, and Jazmine laughs, ducks inside her apartment. The key finally comes loose, and Sophie tucks it into the zippered pocket of her leggings and prepares to try—and fail—to run off her frustrations.

Then comes work.

“What are you doing here, Cortes?” Prentiss asks when she walks into the bullpen. “Head injury usually means you get a day or two off—or are you just that obsessed with this place?” Sophie blows out a long breath, sets her stuff on her desk, then shoots her a kind smile. It’s not her fault she royally screwed up her life last night, so she can’t take it out on her.

“Oh, you know me: all work and no play.”

“Better than all play and no work, I guess,” she replies, grinning, “even if it is more fun.”

“Yeah, but play gets you into trouble; at least it gets me into trouble,” she grumbles, taking a seat at her desk. All she can hope for at this point is a quiet, easy day of consults and maybe a drink at the bar around the corner on her way home from work. “Dinner and a bonfire at my place tonight,” Rossi greets when they enter the briefing room. Sophie’s first instinct is to groan, because that means finding a way to avoid Aaron for an additional four plus hours, but she grins instead because her need for Rossi’s cooking and a night of relaxation outweighs the tension.

“Are we breaking in your woodfired pizza oven? If so, just pop open some vino and I’m there,” she teases, and he smiles in response.

“I can do pizza, and I have a very expensive bottle of Brunello with your name on it—since you were almost kidnapped yesterday, and all.”

“She was kidnapped,” Aaron says when he walks in, looking serious. “We just got her back before she left the park, that’s all.” The room goes quiet, because everyone can tell he’s in a mood—but thankfully, Morgan doesn’t really concern himself with other people’s moods, and he chuckles.

“Ah, he would have given her back after five minutes anyway. We love you, but you’re an acquired personality,” he tells her, and she reaches across the table and punches him in the arm.

“Shut up, I’m delightful.”

“If you two are done,” Aaron says with a no-nonsense expression that makes her want to get smart with him just on principle, “we can go ahead and get started.”

Everyone is filing out of the room after, with their assignments for the day, when he asks her to stay back; Spencer glances at her, like he’s making sure she’s okay, and she nods, waves him off.

“Is something wrong, sir?” she asks, like a bit of a smart ass—residual bitchiness from earlier, she knows—and he exhales deeply.

“I just want to talk to you for a minute, since you were practically shoving me out the door this morning.” She crosses her arms, tilts her head.

“Would you have preferred I go about my business and let you be late to work?”

“I would have preferred that we have a conversation about last night like the adults we are,” he counters, and she feels like a properly chastened asshole. She leans her butt on the table, looks up at him with soft eyes; this is more emotion than she’s prepared for so early in the day, but it’s clearly unavoidable.

“Alright. You’re right. Do you want me to start?” He nods, and she blows out a breath. “You surprised me, coming over the way you did. My guard was down, and hearing you say all those things—it was like you were poking at all of my bruises, things I’m still trying to heal from. Wanting you the way I have, and feeling completely overlooked by you… it used to really hurt me. I took it very personally, and my hackles are always kind of raised when you’re around, for that reason. If I seem a little abrasive, that’s why.”

He nods, like it makes sense to him. Like it explains a lot.

“I get that. I didn’t handle my feelings for you the right way at all, and I know that now, and I’m sorry. And I realize that showing up at your apartment unannounced, after I’d been drinking, was the stupidest way I could have possibly gone about trying to explain my feelings to you, but everything I said was true. And when we…” He wets his lips, swallows hard. “When we made love, I knew it was the right thing. I knew pushing you away was a mistake, and I’ll find a way to make that up to you, to make up for lost time, I promise.”

“I’m not sure what I want out of this,” she says honestly; she hasn’t even had twenty-four hours to sit with the fact that he wants her, and her head is still spinning. “I’m not—I don’t do well in relationships.”

“Maybe in the past, but it’s possible you just didn’t have a partner who was willing to meet you halfway.” It’s clear he wants to get closer to her, touch her, maybe even kiss her, but they’re too exposed in the briefing room, blinds open; he lets his eyes do the touching, sweeps them gently over her face. “I’ll always listen to what you have to say, value you. I’ll meet you halfway and then some. I won’t abandon you again.”

“I’m not the kind of person who can make a commitment on the spot like this. I need some time,” she says gently, hopes he sees it for what it is, not an excuse or a brush off. Despite the messy way this all came about, she really does want him, care for him. “Can you give me some time?”

“Of course; all the time you need,” he promises, and she nods, stands fully. “Is there anything else you want to say, while we’re here?” His expression is neutral, and she’s glad he’s not leading… If he expects something more from her, it’s nothing she’s ready to give.

“No, I’ll just take that time. Thank you for understanding.” She carefully brushes her fingers over his hand before walking out the door.

She goes home after work to change her clothes, slipping into a light, summery sundress, and then she heads to Rossi’s, steeling herself before she gets out of the car.

The bonfire is already crackling when she walks through the back gate, and she’s greeted warmly by her friends, promptly handed a glass of wine, and asked what toppings she would like to put on her pizza. It’s the makings for a great evening, she has to admit.

They eat, and drink—Sophie doesn’t drink quite as much as she normally would, because her head’s still throbbing a little—and they sit around the fire cracking jokes, and then someone turns on some music, and people start to dance.

Sophie has always loved ballroom dancing: the class, the grace, the drama, the romance. Her aunt owned a studio for most of her childhood, and when things were hard at home, it was the perfect place to go to escape from the world, if just for a little while. Sophie even teaches some classes at a local studio occasionally, just for the fun of it.

She hangs back, watching JJ and Morgan, Prentiss and Garcia sway back and forth, smiling, laughing, and then Rossi asks her if she’d like to dance, and she does.

They may not always see eye to eye, but he’s got good taste in food, wine, and music, she has to give him that.

After Rossi, she heads over to Spencer, tugs him to his feet, and he lets her lead him around the makeshift dance floor for longer than she’d expected.

“May I cut in?” Aaron asks over Spencer’s shoulder; Spencer looks at Sophie, who just nods, tries not to sound wary when she answers.

“Sure.” He leaves them with a brief smile, and Aaron slips an arm around her waist, takes her hand, pulls her close to his body—maybe a little bit too close. She rests her other hand on his shoulder, tries not to think of the pink half-moon impressions that must still be lingering there from where she’d gripped him tight, nails pressing in, while he went down on her. She follows his lead. “What are you doing?”

“You danced with Rossi, Reid; I’m not allowed to dance with you?” She glances around, sees Prentiss and JJ by the fire, Morgan and Rossi by the food, Spencer and Garcia pouring wine—she’s surprised no one notices how closely they’re dancing, talking. She feels hyper aware of it herself.

“It probably looks highly suspicious,” she says anyway, “since it’s never happened before, but if you’re not worried, I’m not worried.” He looks around too, and it’s clear: he’s not worried.

“Good. Maybe we can enjoy this, then.” He moves his hand further down her back, presses her a bit closer, and she sighs, lets him. It feels good to be in his arms, but she wonders what it says, that she missed them after only a few hours. She’d spent two years building up a tolerance to him only to have her resolve come crashing down after one night of extremely sensual, passionate sex. So much for the power of will.

“I am enjoying this. More than I should be, I think,” she answers honestly, and god, what an understatement. Nothing about this should feel so good, so right, but he’s handsome in the flickering, golden light of the bonfire, softer in more casual clothes, his voice low in her ear, the smell of his cologne heady as always; he is a feast for all of her senses—except taste, but that can very much be arranged.

“So let me take you on a date. We can do more dancing, or just have dinner, see a show. Anything you want.” She looks up at him, frowns, and he sighs deeply. “I know you said you needed time to figure out if you want to make a commitment. I’m not asking for a commitment; I’m just asking for a chance.”

“You said yourself, our actions have consequences. Sleeping with you is one thing,” she whispers, “but dating is another, and I’m just not sure it’s the right thing to do, for either of us.” Sleeping together is casual, a series of circumstances that lead to something more; dating is purposeful, meaningful. There are disclosures. Intentions. Things are made concrete. She’s not so sure about concrete.

Aaron looks hurt.

“Last night was more than just sleeping with me, Sophie. That was…” He closes his eyes tightly, like he can’t find the words, and she gets it, because neither can she. She’s only oversimplifying it for the sake of making it easier to say no to him, because no is the last thing she actually wants.

“Okay, yeah. You’re right. It was something special,” she admits, squeezing his hand. “But I can’t afford to put my career in jeopardy right now, and neither can you.”

“Who says we have to? I can talk to Strauss—” She takes a half step back, looks up at him seriously.

“Okay, see, this is all moving a little too quickly for me. I’m not even sure I’m ready to be in a relationship, let alone one that’s under as much scrutiny as we’ll be if you talk to Strauss.”

“It’s been almost two years in the making, if you ask me,” he says lightly, but his jaw is tense.

“That’s not fair, because I’ve spent all this time holding back, trying not to feel things for you—and you hurt me. Imagine being new and hearing about how tightly-knit your team is and then getting practically ignored by your boss, even when you were struggling.” She tries not to think back on the toughest cases, how unhealthy her coping mechanisms were, how badly she could have used his firm but kind voice telling her she was okay, not a fuck up, not alone.

“When were you struggling?” he asks seriously, looking concerned, and she huffs an unkind laugh.

“You were trying so hard not to look at me that you didn’t even see me, Aaron. That’s not healthy, I don’t—I don’t deserve that.” She drops her hand from his shoulder, gently pulls the other free. He lets her. “I’ve had enough fun for one night. I think I’m going to head home.”

“Sophie, I’m sorry. Please,” he says softly, and at least he’s trying not to draw any attention to them. It’s the last thing she needs right now. “You’re right. I know messed things up, but I want to change that, if you’ll let me.” She looks into his eyes, and they’re earnest, sincere; she wants to let him, so badly.

“Not tonight,” she says instead. “Can you just let me think about this a little, please?”

“Yes. No more pressure, I promise.” He looks back at the path leading to the gate, the driveway. “Can I walk you to your car?”

She agrees, says goodbye to everyone, thank you to Rossi; no one seems to find it unusual that Aaron walks her out to her car. He stops beside her door, lifts a hand to brush her hair softly back from her face.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, and he leans in to kiss her temple, something brief and sweet. “We’ll talk soon?” She inhales deeply, breathes him in, nods.

“We’ll talk soon. Goodnight.”

Finding a way to fall asleep in her empty king size bed has never been so impossible.

Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x original female character #hotch x reader #hotch x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #reblog #reformat #latina original female character

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leaderoffestivals · 2 years

Text

Secret Service: EPILOGUE 4

Nagisa: ... ... And if you should refuse my offer, I will use everything in my power to destroy you.

Season: Winter Author: Akira Characters: Madara, Kohaku, Ibara, Hiyori, Jun, Nagisa

Ibara: —Oukawa-shi. Cut Mikejima-shi down now, and take up the name of Double Face like how you said you would.

—And after cleansing and purifying the name of Mikejima’s colours, won’t you consider it an auspicious start to enter a contract with Eden as the new Double Face?

You will definitely be able to attain good results in the main round of SS if so. According to the rumours, it will be especially important to build connections with the other units in the main event—

—To ensemble with other idols, so to speak.

Kohaku: Haha~. Nope, that doesn’t really sound like our thing, so we’re gonna have to decline.

And I’m not gonna cut this idiot down yet—It’s much easier to get rid of unwanted things and troublesome obstacles when he’s around.

And besides, even if my Double Face persona would allow it, my Crazy:B persona could not... After all, the ones we sing for, are all those who are excluded from the world.

Ibara: Is that so? I’m worried that one of these days, those “two faces” of yours will start to hate, resent—and subsequently—destroy each other.

Madara: ... ...

Ibara: Whoops! It’s as if you’re saying, “If such a thing were to come to pass, I will the one to protect this time,” aren’t you?

Do you really think you can accomplish that, you untrustworthy, conceited, savage reprobate?

Traitor. You’ve truly given me an outrageous amount of grief this time, Mikejima-shi.

Madara: Would you be angry if I said, “It’s your own fault for getting fooled?” (1) So sorry about that!

Ibara: You are truly an aggravating person. However, I’ll also admit that it was my fault for being led by my emotions and not being vigilant enough this time. It wouldn’t be fair for me to pin the blame on you.

It was a blunder that I committed squarely, and because of that, I’ve caused nothing but trouble for His Excellency and the two members of Eve, for which I am extremely sorry.

Hiyori: Oh no, no! I wouldn’t call it trouble at all! If anything, since we’re all comrades in the same unit, your burdens are something that we would like to bear together with you, okay?

Jun: Yup, yup! What he said, Ibara~... You should open up and trust the people around ya more. It’s totally okay to confide in us about whatever’s on your mind, yanno?

We won’t turn you away, we’ll definitely pull together to help ya, alright?

Ibara: ... ...

Madara: Hahaha! You blew yourself up with the intention of making me look like the bad guy but it backfiiired! (1i) Honestly, it’s sooo interesting watching you spin your wheels like this today, Ibara-san! ♪

Ibara: I’ll crush you... ... However, since there were benefits to us as well this time, so I will smile and forgive you like an adult today.

However, don’t you ever forget that you betrayed me, and I’ll hold that against you for the rest of my life.

Hiyori: Ahaha! Vipers are such persistently vindictive creatures, aren’t they?

Ibara: The basic principle of business is to attack repeatedly, adjusting through trail and error until there are no more competitors in the field. You have to be persistent in order to succeed; because if you lose focus, you die.

Nevertheless, I didn’t die this time, so I’ll just consider myself lucky to have survived this.

Nagisa: —That’s right. This time, we have gained so much.

Madara: ... ...!? Nagisa-san!

Aren’t you supposed to be confined in the basement of the abandoned temple?

The Gatekeeper’s men should’ve been keeping an eye on you and ensuring that you couldn’t escape from there!

Nagisa: ... ... Yes. I understand now that it is more for my protection than for actual confinement, so I have been quietly behaving myself.

Madara: Oh? For your protection?

Nagisa: … … Apparently, I am being marked as the one who is most likely to succeed my father. My father did a lot of work that made people resent him, so he had a lot of enemies.

… … And apparently, such hostile forces have been moving and making many disturbing plans, including an attempt on my life.

… … The gatekeeper (2) saw the situation evolving as such, and so, he isolated me in a safe place in the case of such an eventuality.

… … However, that is only my guess. I think he also intended to protect Ibara for the same reasons, except that Ibara promptly abandoned me and fled before that could happen.

Ibara: No! S—say rather, that it was a strategic retreat!

If I had charged in alone, I would have died in vain; I had a plan to assemble a private army so that I could move in to rescue Your Excellency!

Also, I had received information that His Highness Hiyori and Jun were making alarming actions in the vicinity. Most assuredly, it was not because I did not care for you at all, Your Excellency.

Nagisa: … … Yes, I understand. That is the kind of person you are.

… … And that is why you have succeeded so well, and grown in influence.

… … Honestly speaking, I had been hoping that you would take it upon yourself to rescue me without thinking about your safety or the consequences, just like Hiyori-kun did for me—

Hiyori: Fufun! ♪ It’s experience, I say! In terms of experience, Ibara isn’t a match for me! ♪

Nagisa: … … Not that either of you is right or wrong...

... ... However, Hiyori-kun was too reckless and it is unacceptable that Jun got swept up in all this as well. So, it’s not like Hiyori-kun chose the perfect solution either.

Jun: No~, it’s okay, really. I’m fine with anything, even if it means dying in a double suicide with Ohii-san.

Hiyori: Jun-kun! Mou! You idiot—I would want you to treasure your life more!

Jun: Am I getting scolded? I thought I said some pretty good things there, didn’t I?!

Nagisa: ... ...Fufu. We’re held up as the ES Big Three, the perfect idols.

... ... However, we are still developing too.

... ... Even if that was the only thing that I’ve learnt from all this, it is good that I managed to understand it properly this time.

Madara: I’m sorry to bother you when you’re looking so contented, Nagisa-san, but if it’s possible, I would like you to return to the basement of the abandoned temple at once.

I was assigned the task of keeping you confined underground for the duration of the qualifying period.

It would have been fine if the job was considered done when I first secured you in the basement...

However, I’m worried that in the event the Gatekeeper should find me too difficult a problem to handle, it’s possible that he’ll use your leaving the basement as an excuse—

—To penalise me for breaching our contract.

Kohaku: Are you bein’ scutinized by yer boss, Madara-han? Geez! Why is it that everyone tends to hate ya so much?

Madara: Ahaha! That’s just karma, I guess? I’ve committed wayyy too many dodgy and evil deeds after all.

And yet—just like how guns and firearms aren’t gonna disappear from the world—as long as I’m considered “useful” like that, I'll be able to pull through and survive.

The Gatekeeper has been treating Anzu-san as a hostage in order to make me behave and do his bidding—

—And, I also think he’s been trying to distract me by stirring up strange rumours from aaall the way in Okinawa—(3)

That’s how he keeps a weapon like me in check, while making full use of me.

However, in exchange, I’ve got the full backing of the management, so I’m not complaining about being treated like this. This is juuust the kind of job it turned out to be.

Forcing hard labour onto each other in exchange for mutual benefits—That’s how society works, isn’t it?

Nagisa: ... ... Yes. I am finally starting to understand how such a society works as well.

... ...And I have grown a little wiser and stronger as a result.

... ... That’s why I am grateful and bear you no ill-will, Madara-kun.

... ... In the past, I was on the side of the faction responsible for hurting your friends during The War (4). That alone would have been reason enough for me to take out my malice on you...

... ... However, the chain of vengeance and retaliation is a sad and empty one.

... ... So, now that we have hurt each other, and have had our revenge on each other; I would like to reset our relationship with each other.

... ... I want to stand on equal footing with you, and have mutually beneficial transactions together from now on.

Madara: ... ...

Nagisa: ... ... And if you should refuse my offer, I will use everything in my power to destroy you.

-------------------------------------------------------

(To be continued)

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Translator’s Note:

“騙されるほうが悪い” (dama sareru hou ga warui) is an actual saying in Japan. It means that if you got fooled, it’s your fault for being that ignorant/careless in the first place. However, Madara is saying it as a taunt since Ibara has no right to play the victim card; Ibara would have cast Madara aside in a heartbeat, just that Madara never waited around that long for Ibara to make a fool of him. (Also, this is f*cking payback for all the manipulation Ibara did to Madara in Antique Legend. ) (1i) Still, Ibara was trying to make Madara look bad/a person without values for saying this, by agreeing that YES, it was his own fault for being a fool (blowing himself up) but no one in Eden contradicted him or scolded Madara for bullying Ibara, which meant a) they agreed that it was his fault (?) and/or b) they felt Madara was not to blame (?). Please picture Hiyori and Jun comforting Ibara while he stands there, unable to take back his words, while Madara laughs at him. I love that Eden is like family and very supportive of each other Madara and Ibara are just playing 5-D chess in another dimension.

Nagisa is referring to the guy we know as Gatekeeper as “門番/monban” kanji characters instead of the romanised ゲートキーパー /Geーto.kiーpaー that Madara and the others have been using all this while. 門番 translates to “gatekeeper” too, but since Nagisa says it differently, it should mean something different too.

Re: SS 2nd Arc: Submarine. The misinformation that reached Madara was that Ryuuseitai’s Shinkai Kanata had met up with religious zealots (from the very same Shinkai religion that Madara had torn down and gotten disowned from his family for; re:Meteor Impact / Madara’s 1st idol story) while in Okinawa. Madara would’ve dropped everything to fly to Okinawa, except Chiaki managed to contact Madara in time to stop him.

Re: During Eichi’s revolution in (!); Back then, the unit fine was made up of Eichi, Tsumugi, Nagisa and Hiyori.

This chapter is unproofed, so if you spot any mistakes/have feedback, please PM me!

#Ensemble Stars #enstars translation #Madara Mikejima #Nagisa Ran #Kohaku Oukawa #Ibara Saegusa #Hiyori Tomoe #Jun Sazanami #Double Face #Eden #Crazy:B #MaM #Secret Service

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skellebonez · 3 years

Note

So apparently in JTTW, Baije kept trying to get the monk to say the thing that would activate the torture headband? According to a post I just saw anyway. So I'd like to prompt something where Monkie Kid era Monkey King and Pigsy are arguing, and Monkey King brings that up, because it's kind of /messed up/. Preferably with prompts 25 or 47 because those seem vaguely fluffy and I don't want it to end /sad/ plz?

There are multiple times in the book (though it happened more often early on) where Zhu Bajie took full advantage of how much Tripitaka trusted him and made Wukong’s day miserable because of it, he isn’t the middle brother for nothing! The two have a better relationship as the book goes on, but as an eldest sibling I can tell you... even if you're on good terms later, sometimes you still remember the ways they used to mess with you... also I went overboard. Very overboard. This is really long.

"You have until the count of three to remove your arms from my person, or so help me…!"/ “Tell me what you want me to do."

Things had been going so well... at least as well as could be expected given they had only really seen each other twice after 500 years of Sun Wukong vanishing.

Their first meeting, their initial reunion, wasn't so much a meeting and more "hey I'm here to help MK fight because things are actually really bad and I totally don't already know who two of you are" and then lots of saving the world without the time to talk to or call out his once elder brother before he ran off. Their second meeting was not long after, Wukong coming to check up on MK at the shop and "oh yeah uh I kinda know your boss Bud". Which. Nice job revealing his secret Wukong.

That was a very interesting conversation, explaining to MK that he was indeed The Zhu Bajie from the stories and yes Tang knew and no only Tang knew and no he did not want to talk about why this was kept secret. Then it devolved into MK insisting the two of them needed to hang out together and then questions about Sandy and then how it was so cool that his dad was friends with his mentor. The at first befuddled and then completely shocked expression on Wukong's face as he finally put two and two together made agreeing to MK's insistence so much easier.

Easier than being pogo'd to Flower Fruit Mountain and then being stuck there as MK ran off to do "hero stuff" with Mei, anyway. At first it was awkward, being shown around the mountain by a man who he had spent years of his life with and was clearly trying to not look uncomfortable at the time lost between them.

Then the monkeys attacked. Well. Less attacked, more jumped on Pigsy in sheer excitement. It only took a few seconds for Wukong to cackle and pull them off him with the care of a roughhouseing father. Some of them were just little ones barely new to the world (he didn't miss how much more careful Wukong was with them), but Pigsy recognized a few of the elder ones from the time he had come here to bring Wukong back after the... WBS and Wood Wolf... event.

He also didn't expect any of them to actually remember him or to see Wukong acting so positively parental in comparison to how he acted the last time he was here. It was strange, he knew the Monkey King could be caring and that he had changed on their journey and must have become different over their time apart, but this was a side he had never truely thought he would see from him ever before. And he couldn't help but chuckle a bit at that.

It was like a tension line was finally let slack. They didn't simply slide back into banter, but they were much more relaxed. Wukong pointed out where he had been training MK, showed him to where his house stood (Pigsy wondered if he ever tried to rebuild the palace that had burnt down long before he visited all those years ago, but did not dare to bring that up either). The house was much more modern than he had expected, even having full internet access and TV and a kitchen.

He would never tell anyone about the passionate 1 hour conversation they had about cooking when he realized Wukong picked it up as a hobby. No one will ever know their debate/rant on how to properly prepare dough for steaming and how so many people do it wrong.

At some point they ate a lunch Wukong had prepared, much better than Pigsy expected, and that's probably when it went downhill.

He'd made an offhanded joke about people who use too much seasoning. Wukong joked back, asking if his underseasoned cooking was up to Pigsy's standards. Pigsy had shoved the monkey on old reflex, not hard and not nearly enough to move him, saying if he wanted him to compliment his cooking he could have just asked like a good big brother.

That had started a friendly wrestling match, not unlike ones they had had before and that drew a crowed of monkeys excited to watch. That wrestling match turned more violent before Pigsy had realized it and somehow, some way, they started actually fighting. He yelled about how Wukong had no right to just make MK his sucessor. Wukong yelled about how he chose MK because he was the most qualified and capable person he found. Pigsy shot back that he barely knew him before training him and if he had even bothered to try knowing him he would have known he was Pigsy's kid and he was a shitty mentor. Wukong screamed at that, scaring off most of their audience with the volume, picking Pigsy up off the ground entirely with his arms pinned down.

"You take that back right now, Bajie!" Wukong hissed out in a dangerous tone, one Pigsy didn't give a single damn about heeding in his anger.

"You have until the count of three to remove your arms from my person, or so help me...!" Pigsy fought against Wukong's hold, scrambling for any kind of purchase he could get with his feet dangling off the ground.

"Or what, Bajie? What!? Are you going to find another fillet and tell MK the sutra for it this time!? Are you going to make him not trust me like you did Tripitaka!? ARE YOU!?"

The words made Pigsy stop, but it was Wukong's tone that made him try to turn back to look at him. He'd sounded angry before but now he sounded... genuinely upset. Not angry upset. Sad upset. "I wouldn't do that."

"You did before." Damn it. He really was sad upset...

"Yeah... Yeah, I did." Pigsy admitted with only slight hesitation as he looked at the ground beneath him. "I'm sorry. About how I acted back then. I made everything harder than needed. I made Master hurt you and you didn't deserve it. More often than I'd like to admit..." There was a beat of silence before he decided to take a chace with a question that would probably upset Wukong more. But he had to ask. "How... how painful was it?"

The two of them didn't move for a while, Pigsy just hanging limply until Wukong slowly leaned down and set his feet back on ground. His grip losened slighly, but he didn't let Pigsy go as he rested his forehead against the back of Pigsy's head with a sigh. "Very. Very painful. It... the way it... Bajie, I don't want to-"

"You don't have to," Pigsy interrupted, raising one of his arms now that he could move to grab and squeeze his wrist. "If 'very' is all you want to say, I get it. I'm sorry."

"You already said that."

"And I'll say it again because I mean it." Pigsy pulled away, Wukong’s grip weakened enough for him to without even the smallest fight, and turned around to face him.

He reached up, Wukong giving him an odd confused look as he placed his hands over and around his forehead. Realization dawned quickly and he tensed as Pigsy felt the almost imperceptible scars hidden under his well groomed fur. For the band to have been impactful enough to leave marks at all, let alone after all this time... some didn't feel like cuts or stretches, more like burns almost.

"I'm sorry too," Wukong said suddenly. "For being an ass. I wasn't exactly the greatest travel companion myself at times. And for... for disappearing."

"I already forgave ya for the stuff on the journey long ago," Pigsy said as he pulled his hands back and crossed his arms. "Couldn't sit right with myself if I held a grudge for what you did after the shit I pulled. But I appreciate the apology for up and vanishing. And uh, I'm sorry for calling you a shitty mentor."

"You better be!" Wukong chuckled, standing up straight with an awkward crooked smile. "But, you know, I could stand to be a better teacher. You weren't wrong when I said I don’t know enough about MK."

"I could tell you a few things," Pigsy offered. "Nothing personal, just like how we met and what his job is like. To make up for the. Everything."

"Hmn..." Wukong made a point to rub his chin in thought, clearly about to do something Pigsy wondered if they would both regret. "On one condition."

"Tell me what you want me to do," Pigsy sighed out, fully resigned for whatever the Monkey King was going to ask.

"Cook me dinner."

... that... was not what he expected at all. "That's it?"

"That's it!"

That wasn't near enough to make up for anything in Pigsy's mind... but if that’s what Wukong wanted he supposed that was a start.

#im rereading the book and rewatching osps videos #i added in enough references to a particular story i think #i know it 99.99% unlikely the fillet left any marks #let me have this for one fill #pigsy #monkey king #sun wukong #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #prompt fill

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poormeowmeowcollector · 3 years

Text

Trying To Balance With A Part Of Yourself Missing

Pairing: none

Warnings: Each chapter has individual warnings.

Summary: Thor bargains with Odin on Loki’s sentence, and wins. Loki is moved with the Avengers to fix his past mistakes. But Odin’s term changes everything, and Loki’s foe is not their mistakes, but their self image.

Chapter 10. Sleeping God

Warnings: Hospital theme, unconsciousness, whump, mentions of past child abuse, mentions of self harm, language.

Summary: Loki's punishment gets interrupted by Thor, again.

Notes: I apologize in advance for Loki's absence.

First | Previous | AO3 | Next

“Alright, you both had your fun, now free Loki,” Thor growls and glares at Steve. Even with his one eye covered by a patch, his glare is terrifying.

“Loki’s choices led them there, and they're not getting out. They're dangerous," Steve repeats the same argument. Thor sighs, he can't believe negotiating with Odin was easier.

"At least tell me that someone is checking on them," he groans, less angry and more frustrated.

"Tony's bots are delivering food," Steve answers, as if it's the best solution.

"Only the machines? This is inhumane!"

"Loki is-"

"Dangerous? Do you even know why they lashed out like that?" Thor snaps, glaring as Steve nods a no after a long moment of silence. "Because I angered them. Because I was supposed to make them attack me with all their strength, and to do so, I mocked the way Father used to treat them," he admits, regret filling his voice.

"Okay, Odin hugged you more. Since when it gives them the right to do that?" Steve insists. Thor bites his lips and Natasha slaps her hand in her mouth.

"Idiot, Thor means whipping," Natasha groans. Everyone glares at Thor.

"I wanna gauge Thor's eye out as well now," Clint sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

"Thor, with all due respect, what the fuck were you thinking?" Tony screeches.

"I can see your point, we are going to check on Loki right fucking now and then get them out of there. And maybe they can make you their personal punching bag, as a treat," Steve glares at Thor, ten times madder than he was with Loki, and gets up. Pretty much everyone follows him to the cells.

Outside the cell, on the door for the food, there are ten days worth of food, all intact and in various stages of rotting. "This is definitely not a good sign," Tony comments.

Unfortunately, he was correct.

~~~

"So, want a sum up?" Bruce asks, pacing up and down in the room and trying to look away from the unconscious Loki in the bed. Thor and Tony nod, Natasha, Bucky, Wanda and Steve waiting for the answer as well.

"Fortunately, the starvation didn't go on enough to damage something, and the nail scratches don't go deep enough. But, the heart is not functioning as it should. I don't know why it behaves like this or how to treat it, but it definitely wasn't as bad when I scanned them the first time," he explains, now looking only at his notes.

"But, they will be okay, right?" Tony asks, voice trembling. Bruce doesn't answer. "I… I can make something, like my reactor. It will work. Give me the notes, I will fix them," he jumps up and grabs the notes from Bruce’s hands, leaving for his lab. Thor stays completely still and silent, his eye pinned on Loki.

Steve, Wanda and Natasha express their empathy, as if Loki is already dead, and Steve apologizes. Then they leave as well. Good, Thor wants them to leave. They already think Loki is dead, they are not. They will do something, and then they’ll be okay. Like they always do.

Bucky takes a chair and sits beside Thor, his eyes in Loki’s body as well.

“They told me it’s not that bad,” he whispers, and gains Thor’s attention.

“They told you about this?”

“We were talking, and Loki got a heart attack. When they woke up, they told me it’s not as bad as it looks. They lied,” Bucky explains, his fingers tangling themselves. It’s a habit he got from Loki, and a hard one to quit.

“You know, I did it to them. We were young and having a fight, I don’t even remember why we were fighting. I pushed Loki, and they fell but didn’t get up. Then, I started smelling burnt meat, Loki’s meat. They woke up after a month, and started getting heart attacks and their chest was in so much pain they could not breathe… I had to learn how to do CPR and cast lightnings to restart their heart. Loki could not leave the bed for a year, until Father used a part of their magic to help their heart work, leaving only some pain and lower stamina. I guess, when Father took Loki’s magic, he took this spell too,” Thor keeps staring at Loki, hoping they will wake up, but they don’t stir.

“That’s a death penality. Thor, your Father let this happen,” Bucky growls, his metal hand clenching the chair.

“What is your suggestion? That we summon Father and demand restoration of Loki’s magic? Threaten him, possibly?” Thor now turns and stares at Bucky, one’s sorrow meeting another’s rage.

“If this is what it takes for the old man to let Loki redeem themselves without dying, yes. This whole thing is supposed to help them grow, not kill them!” he snaps.

“I suppose you are correct. But, I am not summoning Father without Loki’s consent,” Thor agrees and looks back at Loki as if glaring enough will wake them up.

“What if they don’t wake up?”

“They will,” he grunts, not accepting another opinion. Bucky sighs, and leaves Thor there.

~~~

"Thor, you are the closest relative. You have to decide what we do. I can either use medicine, through trial and error, or we let Loki die naturally," Bruce explains again.

"They stirred last night, as if they were dreaming," Thor hums, ignoring Bruce.

"We talked about this. It doesn't mean that Loki will magically heal. Odin is out of the picture and Tony’s on a dead end, we have to do something to win time," Bruce repeats. Thor refuses to listen to anyone, he simply waits for Loki will magically wake up.

He claims that his actions brought Loki to this place, but doesn't do anything to ease them.

"Will the medicines work better than simply waiting?" he asks, finally.

"They could relieve some pressure, yes,"

"Then do this, and we discuss again when Loki is awake," Thor finally does something. Bruce doesn't show his relief, but still hurries to begin the process.

~~~

Thor was right. Loki does stir while unconscious, but in a way you'd expect a sleeping person to stir. A few hours in the medications that word and Loki starts muttering nonsense that you can barely hear through the oxygen mask.

Which is what lead Bruce and Thor here, sitting beside Loki's bed and trying to stay awake, so they won't be alone. Bruce fails, and falls asleep on his chair, but Thor doesn't allow his tiredness to win. His eyes, though, are so heavy, and maybe resting them will not hurt.

He hears someone groan and jumps up, making Loki release a small yelp. He stares at Loki, his eye tearing up and his muscles demanding an embrace that he knows will be painful.

"Wh-wh-why th-the long f-face?" they grin from behind the mask, struggling to choke down a coughing fit. Thor's joy upon having Loki conscious again disappears instantly, and a new kind of worry takes its place.

~~~~~

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying @twhiddlestonsstuff @bisexysylvie @thewindandthewolves

#loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #loki whump #tw language #tw hospitals #tw sh mention #tw child abuse #tw unconciousness #loki angst #heavy angst

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newcaptainofsquad9 · 3 years

Text

I Can’t Handle You Being Back~Chou Tzuyu x black! fem! reader {3}

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Pairing: Tzuyu x reader

Summary: A few weeks have passed and you’re already set to make your debut with Twice during their comeback for Cry For Me and I Can’t Stop Me. Things with Tzuyu haven’t gotten better, and it’s about to get worse when the company forces you both to do a live together with the other foreign members. Can you and Tzuyu get through it?

Genre: Angst, Idol-Verse, Romance, Slow Burn, Hurt and Comfort, Best Friends to Lovers

Warnings: None, just a lot of tension and awkwardness between y/n and Tzuyu. ya know your usual angst

Word Count: 2, 750

Writer’s Note: Ok, so this chapter gets a bit juicy and there’s going to be a bit of jealously, along with a hint of romance, but that’s all I’m gonna say. Hope ya’ll enjoy it and please comment! I want to hear your thoughts and feedback. This took me like a month to write it, I’m not sure how I feel about it so :/ yeah.

Onces, Netizens and the overall Kpop community in general were lit a blaze with the reveal of Twice’s new member: me. Of course now being in a whirlwind of what is Twice’s schedule, I didn’t have time or the energy to read comments, dms or messages that I’ve gotten from them (thank God). Jihyo was also a factor in keeping me on my toes during long dance practice days, even though she wasn’t as hard on me as she was with the others. They weren’t too hard on me either, usually laughing at my mistakes and helping me if I missed my timing or not. The pressure was on: not only from the Korea public and Kpop community as a whole but because of Tzuyu as well. Her eyes would always be on me, then they roll as she waited for me to fix whatever I did. Even during my photoshoots for the album or promotional media, she’s got her eye on me. We haven’t even talked much since she blew up at me weeks prior. I’m not sure how to fix this really.

I decided now to ignore her, which is easier said than done, due to how close we are during performances. (She literally rests her head against my shoulder during Cry For Me, damn you JYPE!) Right now we’re back stage at Music Bank, awaiting for our rehearsals for our I Can’t Stop Me stage and she’s seated directly to my right, all that’s keeping her from me is my phone, along with Jeongyeon seated between us.

“Y/N, check out this meme,” Jeongyeon said as she practically shoved her phone in my face.

I chuckled lowly; Jeongyeon nudged me.

“That’s the only reaction I get?” she whined. “You always laugh at Chaeyoung’s.”

“Well that’s because she doesn’t use ancient memes,” I said. “The cereal guy is like five years old!”

“So, are you calling me old Y/N!” Jeongyeon said. “That’s disrespectful to your Unnie.”

She nudged my shoulder a few times with a sly grin and furrowed brows.

“No,” I groaned. “Your taste in memes are old.”

“Who’s old?” Nayeon said as she squished herself between me and Jeongyeon. “You better not be talking about me Jeong.”

“You said it not me,” Jeongyeon said with a snicker.

Nayeon didn’t waste any time in smacking her arm, making her laughter rise while I get up to avoid their playful conflict.

“How about you both make out already,” I teased.

The words make both idols separate with the quickness; their faces red as they sit up straighter.

“W-Whatever Y/N,” Nayeon said. “I should be telling you and Tzuyu doing that since all you both can do is eye each other.”

Now I’m the one recoiling, Jeongyeon did the same as Tzuyu’s attention is on Nayeon with a stare. Jeongyeon nudged Nayeon and pushed her back onto her feet.

“Everything was fine until you came along,” Jeongyeon whined. “Also, your make-up’s smudged a bit.”

Nayeon’s hands fled to her face, shock over took it in a matter of seconds.

“Look at your face!” Jeongyeon said as she erupted into another round of heated giggles. I smiled to entertain her, but stop immediately as Nayeon throws us a deadpanned look this time.

“You’re still a grandma,” Nayeon said as she walked away from the couch and towards Mina, Jihyo, and Momo, who held Boo in her arms.

“Ya! If I’m a grandma then what does that make you!” Jeongyeon yelled back. “Great grandma!”

I shook my head and returned back to my phone, my finger itching to open up Instagram yet I’m restrained by soft hands. Tzuyu’s next to me, close but not as close as Jeongyeon was. Her face in taunt, but not in the anger she aimed at Nayeon; this look is of warning.

“Don’t,” she said. “Didn’t Jihyo unnie say not to.”

“I-I just wanted to message someone back,” I said. “You hardly talk to me, why are you doing this now?”

Tzuyu rolled her eyes.

“I just don’t want you in a mood where you can’t focus,” Tzuyu said. “You mess up so easily.”

“Wow, thanks for reminding me,” I said. “I just have to check something with someone.”

Tzuyu pulled her hand away from my wrist, yet she doesn’t return to the other end of the couch.

“Who?” she said.

I side eye her for a moment while I open Instagram; my direct messages are 100 +, forcing my pulse to pound in my ears. The second I tap the arrow that brings up the messages, the swarm hits me:

How come out of all the Sixteen contestants, they bring back the worst one.

You won’t be a real Twice member. This has got to be a PR stunt from all the “cultural appropriation” allegations.

K-Pop isn’t for you, go back to America.

Who told you K-Pop was for you, you black bitch.

The negative messages began to build, and build, out-weighting the small clump of positives ones that came through. My hand tightened around my phone as anger and fear boiled up inside me: angry at myself for taking on this opportunity and fearful because of the hate. I expected this so, why am I feeling this way?

“Y/N?” Tzuyu said as she nudged her shoulder against my own. “Momo Unnie!”

Momo’s head whipped around to the couch, Boo sniffing every where from his position in her arms. Tzuyu’s voice also got the attention of Jihyo, Nayeon, and Jeongyeon as well. They flocked over to us immediately.

“Y/N, are you all right?” Jihyo asked as she knelt down in front of me.

I broke from the trance that the hate comments pinned me in and glanced up at the concerned faces of my bandmates, including Tzuyu this time. Her eyes cut to Momo, as Boo continued to wiggle in her arms.

“Unnie! Could she hold Boo, please?” Tzuyu whined.

Momo blinked at Tzuyu but did so anyway and placed the wiggly dog in my arms.

“Whoa, there,” I said as Boo sniffed down my brown blazer. “Hey there, Boo right? God you’re such a good boy aren’t you? Yeah?”

Boo sunk down in my lap licking my fingers as I pet him with my other hand. Nayeon was right, Boo really is a great stress reliever. Any dog is, gosh it’s been so long since I’ve petted or actually owned a dog.

“Are you ok now, Y/N?” Momo asked. “Boo really likes you, he could barely stop moving when Sana first held him.”

“Are you nervous about the performance?” Mina said as she walked to stand behind the couch with Sana, Chaeyoung, and Dahyun behind her.

“Yeah, being up there with you guys is extremely nerve wracking,” I said. “And I read a few of the comments online.”

“Y/N,” Jihyo groaned. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know, know but the public’s perception means a lot, right?” I said. “The Knets are already giving me a headache.”

Mina frowned and placed her hands on my shoulders, then gently squeezed.

“You’ve been practicing so hard with us,” Sana said. “You’ll do amazing!”

I nodded, still taken a back by the comments but Boo’s yipping and the encouraging words from my band-mates eased my worries (even if it’s just for a little bit).

“All right girls!” a manager said as he stormed into the room along with my own manager, Miyoung who signals me towards her. “You’re going on in five!”

I rise, Boo whined as I did and Nayeon held her arms out to take him.

“Aww, Boo, Y/N will be back soon. OK?” she cooed.

I handed him to her before stepping over to a free corner of the room with Miyoung.

She gave me a tiny grin as she rubbed my arm, giving me a once over.

“You all right? It seemed like the girls were consoling you over there,” she said.

“I’m getting there,” I admitted. “I’ve been practicing choreography for weeks and I just saw--”

I paused at Miyoung’s face; it contorted in concern then exasperation.

“You read the comments, didn’t you?” she asked.

I glanced down and nodded.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to let it get in the way of the comeback.”

“Hey, no Y/N,” Miyoung said. “You don’t deserve any of that. JYPE’s even taking the legal action against a lot of the comments, surprisingly.”

I blinked at her words.

“He’s actually keeping his word,” I said.

Miyoung nodded.

“And you’ve got a V Live to do after the performance once you return to the dorms,” she explained. “A welcoming type thing with the other foreign members.”

I hesitated at the word foreign, that means being close to Tzuyu. It also means being close to Tzuyu on camera.

“Is that all right?” Miyoung asked.

“Y-Yeah, I just don’t know how this would go.”

Miyoung brought me a bit closer as she wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

“Well you’ve got Twice in your corner,” she said. “And if anything or any one of them bother you, even another manager, come to me. Brittany insisted I keep an eye on you.”

I deadpan while my mind wondered back to how Brittany was ready to fight JYP in his own office if things grew awry.

“Y/N, c’mon!”

I turned toward the door to see everyone geared up and ready to perform, eyes steady waiting for me; Tzuyu even with a tiny grin on her face.

“Go on,” Miyoung said. “Have fun, don’t think too much of it.”

***

I messed up the shoulder move; I know I did and the playback remained in my mind throughout the drive back to the dorm and as we all settle into our rooms.

“Y/N it’s OK,” Jeongyeon groaned as she slumped against her bed. “You were off by a nanosecond. The only person who noticed was you.”

“Exactly! The Netizens will tear me apart even more when they notice and--”

“And that’s not important right now,” Mina said as she entered Jeongyeon, Momo and I’s room with Sana on her arm.

“V Live time!” Sana sung.

“Good,” Jeongyeon said. “Keep Ms. Worry away for a while. Mina let me play your switch while you guys are live.”

Mina shrugged.

“Sure, but you’re going to have to get it from Chaeyoung,” she explained. “She’s playing it in my room.”

“Ugh, you and your girlfriend,” Jeongyeon said as she rose from the bed.

I perked up at the term.

“Girlfriend? You guys are dating?”

Mina nodded.

“Of course we can’t be official,” she said.

“I know,” I said. “Things aren’t as liberal here as they are in America. I-I can’t believe those ship videos were right.”

Mina blushed a bit.

“That’s the only fan discourse Chae and I keep up with mostly.”

“You kept up with ships Y/N?” Sana asked.

“N-No! I was just curious that’s all! Anyway, let’s go get this live over with.”

Sana giggled as she led Mina and I to her room where Momo and Tzuyu sat in pajamas, holding stuffed animals tightly.

“Y/N! Don’t worry about the performance, you did amazing!” Momo reassured.

“Let’s hope the Netizens agree with you,” I groaned and plopped down beside Momo and Tzuyu on the floor.

“I thought you were supposed to stop worrying about the Netizens,” Tzuyu said. “It almost got in the way today.”

I turn toward Tzuyu and crossed my arms.

“So you noticed my screw up too?” I said.

Tzuyu rolled her eyes.

“Almost is the key word,” she groaned before she reached up from the bed next to us and grabbed a few stuffed animals. “Now which stuffed animal do you want?”

I blinked at the choices Tzuyu presented: a purple flamingo with oval shaped eyes or a pink alpaca with a square shaped eyes and a rather odd expression.

“I’ll take the flamingo,” I said.

Tzuyu handed it off as Sana gasped.

“He suits you Y/N,” she said. “Two cuties and wow, I didn’t know you hung out with Sooyoung Y/N!”

“Who?” Tzuyu asked.

“Joy!” Sana squealed

“Sana what are you talking about?” I asked as she leapt on the bed and showed the phone to us.

We both peered down at the picture in front of us; I remember this one (sort of) from a few years back when I co-wrote a few tracks for Red Velvet and hung out a bit with Sooyoung, we were at a beach some where in LA. I’m sure her fans didn’t pay it much mind but since I’m an idol now along with her, I’m not sure how anymore.

“Look, lot’s of fans speculate you’re both dating now!” Sana said. “So, is it true?”

I’m the one rolling my eyes this time, Sana tossed a flirty grin my way and wiggled her eyebrows.

“No Sana, why are you being so ridiculous right now.”

“Come on Y/N,” Momo said as she nudged me against the shoulder. “Sooyoung is pretty hot. You sure you didn’t--”

“Unnie, don’t,” Tzuyu warned. “Y/N said she didn’t so we should just leave it at that.”

“Tzuyu’s right, we should start the V--”

Mina was cut off by Miyoung and a few other managers step into the room.

“Sorry we’re late!” Miyoung said. “We brought snacks!”

Momo’s eyes grew large. She nearly snatched the plastic bag from Miyoung, pulling out a large bag of BBQ Lays before passing the bag to me. I reached in and pulled out a green tea flavored Kit Kat (it’s been a minute since I’ve had one).

“Thank you, uh are you sure we can eat this on camera?” I said.

“Yes Y/N,” Sana said through a giggle. “Gone are our Sixteen days, plus this is our chill V-Live time, fans love to see us just kicking back and having fun.”

“Everyone huddle in!” Miyoung instructed. “Make sure you’re close so the viewers can see!”

Momo squeezed herself closer, and to my surprise Tzuyu did the same; she hasn’t been this close since Cry For Me dance practice, her perfume is too strong. It made me a bit light headed, or is it just the feeling of her close again? Probably both.

“Here Y/N,” one male manager said as he handed a phone off to me. “Hold this so you guys can keep up with the comments .”

Miyoung rested her phone up on a stand before looking to us.

“You guys ready?”

Everyone nodded, all but me.

“Y/N?” Mina asked as she slipped a hand on my shoulder.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said and put on my best smile.

“That’s all we can ask for,” Miyoung said. “Now, we’re live!”

The moment she pressed record, everyone around me perked up to flash their own smiles.

“Hi Onces! We just wanted to hang out with you guys and welcome our new member to you officially, Y/N!” they said in unison.

I waved and smiled enough to reveal teeth.

“Hi Onces! I’m glad to be here!”

My eyes couldn’t help but flock down to the phone in my hand, even with the other four members reading it as well. There’s a part of me that told me not to, but I had to stop thinking like that. I’m a member of Twice too, no matter what they think or say.

The oncoming comments read:

Hi Y/N!!!

So pretty!!

Hi from Brazil!!

Why is she here? Why couldn’t Nayeon take her place?

She doesn’t belong in Korea with the beauty of Twice.

Do you guys name your stuffed animals?

My heart hammered and thumped painfully hard in my ears; instead of stare blankly I chew on my Kit Kat in silence.

“Well I haven’t named this one yet,” Sana explained.

“Manager-unnie!” Mina called, waving to Miyoung. “We can report this comment here!”

“I got it,” Tzuyu said as she took the phone from my hands.

I watched her through a mouthful of chocolate as her brows stay focused; she turned back to the camera with determination as she handed the phone over to Mina.

“Y/N belongs here,” Tzuyu declared to the camera. “And if you don’t want to watch her with us you can leave.”

I almost choked at her words; I heard that correctly, right? I was dreaming, right? Tzuyu must have picked up on my stress and looped her arm around my own; she didn’t pay it much attention to it as she fell into more easy going questions with Momo, Mina and Sana. I did as well, soon enough.

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snugglycrow · 3 years

Text

My Whole World Tilted on it Axis

Book: The Royal Romance (End of Book 1)

Pairing: Maxwell Beaumont x MC (Charlie Hart)

Rights belong to Pixelberry, most characters and some dialogue belong to them.

Series Summary: Maxwell was tasked to sponsor a woman to compete for Prince Liam’s hand. During Liam’s bachelor party he had found the perfect woman! A waitress from New York with no knowledge of courtly protocol that Liam fell head over heels for. The competition is at an end and the journey is almost complete or so they thought.

Chapter Summary: At the Coronation ball, Maxwell tries to cheer Charlie up after she received a letter.

Word Count: 2,741

I tapped Charlie on the shoulder and announced myself, “Hey! I’m back.” I handed her the drink I had left to go get.

“Oh, hey Maxwell! Thank you.” Charlie squeaked, spun to face me and grabbed the drink. Sometimes when Charlie was nervous her voice would go up an octave, she claimed her voice had a mind of it’s own despite her vocal training.

“You okay?” I asked, concerned. Just earlier in the Coronation ball, we were given a letter marked urgent for Charlie. We had no idea who it came from but it was definitely threatening. She had every right to be upset.

“Yeah. This whole letter thing is throwing me off my game.” Charlie answered and her hands twitched towards her face. I could tell she wanted to run her hands through her hair but that was hard to do with her hair pinned up in a braided crown.

“You look like you could use a break. How about we get out of here for a little while and get some air?” I urged Charlie to join me hoping to get one last time we could hang out, just the two of us.

Charlie hesitated, looking wistfully towards the door. She countered “But Bertrand said to stay and socialize.” Her nose crinkled, obscuring some of her freckles, suggesting that was the last thing she wanted.

I smiled knowingly and replied “I know but it’s more important that you’re in the right frame of mind for tonight. What do you say, little blossom? It might be the last time we get to hang out before you become Queen!” I saw her swaying to my side of things and her shoulders sagged when I got to the last part.

Charlie nodded and gave in, “Okay, let’s take a break.” We gulped as much of our drinks as we could and then Charlie took the arm I offered. I escorted her outside to the palace grounds knowing her anxiety would be quelled by fresh air and no more crowds. It was very nice outside, we walked towards the ginormous fountain surrounded by a suspiciously green patch of grass. Listening to the water trickling from the fountain was pretty calming.

“It’s amazing to think about how far you’ve come, Charlie.” I mused, watching the water flow.

“Who would have thought that I would be standing here on the eve of potentially being selected as Cordonia’s future Queen?” She asked and looked at me.

“I did, you gotta believe in the person you’re sponsoring!” I gushed and I could feel the grin spreading across my face when I said that because it was true.

“Of course. You called it.” Charlie agreed, returning my smile and squeezed my shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“You know I did. Though I have to admit you’ve changed a bit since I first saw you in New York.” I observed, I always believed in Charlie. I knew she could win Liam’s heart and become queen but there was no question she had changed along the way. With the things she had been through, I’m sure anyone would.

“I don’t feel all that different! All I did was learn some courtly protocol.” Charlie argued, her brows furrowed and her arms were crossed. Uh oh, I didn’t mean to imply it was a bad thing!

“I think you’ve kept the good parts while learning some new skills” I began and winked at her attempting to set Charlie at ease. Her eyebrow raised in question but she couldn’t hide her smirk, that encouraged me to continue “You look like a natural at court now. You’ll manage fine without us. Not that I was ever very much help. I wish we could have showered with gifts, dresses and jewelry. One of the wealthier houses could’ve” I confessed, starting to feel down on myself. Charlie deserved the world and all of those things would have made going after Liam so much easier. I can’t imagine how she felt being constantly judged by others as less than.

“Maxwell! Look at me.” Charlie chastised me and waited until I locked eyes with hers, they were a pretty hazel color “I don’t need any of those things. You’re my best friend, I’m happy to just have you here supporting me and I’m also a New Yorker. We happen to be pretty tough.” Charlie insisted, she grabbed my hand and gave it a supporting squeeze. I shot back a small smile, that did make me feel a little better.

“That’s true, you’re pretty resilient. You’ve always impressed me. I think you’ve even impressed Bertrand too. It’s strange to think that you’ll be Queen soon and Bertrand and I will go back to being Duke Ramsford and his handsome brother.” I responded, agreeing with her.

“Will you two be okay? I’m worried about you guys. Even if I don’t win this thing, my home will always be open to you both.” Charlie implored looking up at me through her lashes, something she had to do a lot considering she was so small at 5’2.

“I really appreciate it, Charlie. I don’t think it’ll come to that. My feelings about believing in you haven’t changed.” I answered, earning a sigh from Charlie. My heart warmed at the thought of how much she cared about me, I’ve never had that before with anyone else.

“I’ll have to visit Ramsford often and I won’t hear otherwise!” Charlie promised, wrapping her arms around herself. Was she changing the subject? I just let it go. She’d tell me if something was bothering her.

“We can’t have a true Beaumont bash unless all the Beaumonts are there. That includes you!” I laughed until it faded into a sigh. My eyes sweeping across the grounds and over the fountain, losing myself in my thoughts.

“Hey,” Charlie started pulling me from my train of thought and grabbed my arm, her eyes gentle as she continued. “You’d tell me if there was something wrong, right?”

“Of course. I trust you.” I blurted out, I bit back at the bile building. I did trust Charlie with more things about my life than other people. I also hated lying and keeping secrets but this wasn’t my secret to tell. I had made a promise.

“Maxwell,” Charlie said. Her eyes let me know she didn’t believe me for a second. “I’m always here for you. No matter what, okay?”

“Trust me, Charlie. I’d tell you if something was wrong with me,” I insisted. I could feel my voice get strangled from my throat being tight with emotion. A tense nod from Charlie let me know she’d let this go for my sake. I really liked that about her, she’d let me open up whenever I was ready rather than pushing me for answers. We stood in a comfortable silence for a bit, the trickling of the fountain was the only thing that could be heard.

“I’ll really miss having you as part of our house, y’know? When you're queen I won’t be there to wake you up every morning. No more dragging you around to put on dresses. No more limo rides with Bertrand’s judging stare.” I joked half heartedly, my eyes meeting hers. Everything was going to change soon.

“Oh, Maxwell... “ Charlie sighed and gathered me in a tight hug. She continued “I’ll miss you, too. More than you know.”

“Really? Most people would be sick of me by now.” I murmured. I was shocked and touched by her words, eventually I remembered to return the hug.

“Come on, Maxwell. I don’t believe that for a second!” She cried out and pulled back, narrowing her eyes at me. Uh oh. I’ve summoned scary Charlie. I felt my eyes widen and gulped. “You’re my best friend and an amazing guy. Anyone who doesn’t see that is sorely missing out.” She insisted with a sad smile and playfully punched my arm.

“Okay, okay. I’ll concede for now.” I joked, bringing my hands up in surrender. Her glare got even more intense if that was possible. I changed the subject “I brought you out here to cheer you up so let’s do something wild before the announcement.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her eyes glittering with mischief, I could always count on Charlie to be a part of my shenanigans. “Okay! Let’s go!” She danced in place, too excited to even care that she was angry with me a second ago. I led Charlie by the hand back inside towards the grand staircase complete with red carpet and gold trim everywhere. Charlie looked confused, her brows knitted together.

“Max, why did you bring me to a staircase? I thought we were going to prank Bertrand or something,” Charlie asked. My heart leapt at my nickname, she rarely called me Max.

I stopped on the landing, spreading my arms and explained “Pranking Bertrand would be fun but these railings happen to be perfect for sliding! C’mon Charlie! Don’t you trust me?” I extended my hand out to her to grab. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. It was shouting at me.

“I do trust you.” Charlie grinned and grabbed my hand. Rushing up the stairs faster than I was somehow.

“Let’s do this! Ooh, we need to time it so we can reach the bottom at the same time!” Charlie exclaimed. She was so excited and got into position on the railing as soon as we reached the top of the stairs.

“Yeah! Then we can strike a pose!” I replied letting her enthusiasm infect me, for once. Charlie giggled. Great job, Agent Breakdance. Mission CCU has been accomplished. Mission objective: cheer Charlie up.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Max. Ready?” Charlie asked me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I nodded excitedly already in position on the railing opposite of Charlie. I counted down for us. “On three! One… Two… Three!” We slid down the railings together.

“Wooo!!” I cheered, this was so much better than it is doing it alone!

I turned my head to watch Charlie with her hands in the air yelling “Yeahhhh!” With that, we jumped off in tandem. I pumped my fist in the air and placed one hand on my hip to pose like a superhero flying! Charlie went with the badass power pose with both her hands on her hips.

“We look so badass right now!” I shouted, not bothering to contain my excitement.

Charlie nodded and exclaimed “This room doesn’t know what hit ‘em!”

“If only we had sunglasses, this place wouldn’t have been able to take how awesome we are!” I told Charlie trying to be more aware of my volume. My brother wouldn’t be happy if we became the talk of the ball over this.

“That’s the spirit, Maxwell!” Charlie cheered and gave me a high-five.

I sighed and admitted “It’s been fun, Charlie. Thanks, for that.” Charlie grinned, she surprised me by leaning in and kissing me on the cheek.

“There’s no need to thank me, Maxwell! You’ve done just as much for me if not more. I’m glad I had you through it all. Really.” Charlie assured me. I felt my goofy lopsided grin spread across my face, I couldn’t help it. My hand raised to my cheek where she had kissed me. I turned to the ballroom, I didn’t want this moment to end. Nothing would have to change, we could just stay here for the rest of our lives. Realistically, I knew we couldn’t but it was nice to think about. My hand fell to my side and when I turned to look back at my friend, Charlie seemed lost in thought.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Charlie queried suddenly looking down.

“Ask me anything.” I answered earnestly.

“Are we still going to be friends if I’m not declared queen? I mean, I know I’m only really here as a suitor for House Beaumont. And one way or another, that’s about to end.” Charlie squeaked out.

“And so you’re wondering if we’re just going to kick you to the curb if you’re not crowned tonight?” I questioned back not that there was a doubt in my mind what would happen.

“Kind of...” Charlie answered, not looking me in my eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she needed protection from me of all things. It was breaking my heart seeing Charlie like this. I felt this war going on within myself desperately wanting to comfort my best friend, to hold and touch her but was that even appropriate?

“Max? Don’t leave me hanging. Please say something, even if you think I don’t want to hear it.” Charlie pleaded with me, her voice had cracked and her eyes were still glued to the ground. That broke me, I lifted her chin with my crooked finger, staring into her eyes and waited for her to look at me. For the first time ever, Charlie actually looked scared.

“Charlie. We would never do that to you. You’re one of my best friends. Actually, my best friend now that I think about it.” I reassured her and searched her eyes hoping to provide some comfort. It just felt so easy being around Charlie. I didn’t feel the need to put up the front I normally did and I could be myself around her. There was no way I’d lose that even if she didn’t win.

“Max…” She sighed contentedly. The way Charlie said my name made my heart jump, stupid heart. I’m trying to comfort my best friend.

“Anyway, what I mean is, of course Bertrand and I really, really, really hope you become queen.” I could feel my nerves getting to me. Had I gone too far? I shouldn’t have touched her but why can’t I bring myself to let go? Looking into Charlie’s eyes, my stomach swooped. She didn’t look uncomfortable and she’d certainly have no qualms about telling me to back off so why did I feel so guilty? I continued, “I mean, I think Bertrand might kill me if you don’t…” I trailed off with a nervous laugh. “But as far as I’m concerned, win or lose, you’re still part of House Beaumont and I’d never just kick you out of our lives! Never ever.” I sputtered out the end, still nervous. I let go of her. Charlie’s smile never wavered and her eyes never left mine through the end of my monologue. I stepped away taking a deep breath not wanting to do something I would regret. I’ve never had a friendship so strong before where I felt compelled to kiss someone. I ran my fingers through my hair catching her watching me still, her face flushed knowing she’d been caught.

“Thanks Max, that means a lot to me.” Charlie whispered. I almost didn’t catch it. Before I knew it, I had been tackled by Charlie and engulfed in a bear hug.

“Anytime, little blossom. I just want you to be happy.” I whispered against her hair. I stepped back from the hug to see her smile grow and blush warm her freckled cheeks once more. I loved the effect the nickname had on Charlie so I used it as much as I could. My best friend was so pretty. I continued “We should probably get back if you’re okay, that is. I hope this made you feel better.” I encouraged her.

Charlie reassured me, “Worked like a charm, Max. You always know the right thing to say.” Normally, I’m really good at distractions but always knowing what to say? That was a first for me. I wanted people to be happy even if it meant they’d laugh at my expense but with Charlie, if she wasn’t happy it felt like my whole world tilted on its axis.

“My lady.” I said with a goofy grin, I stepped back bowing like a court jester and offered Charlie my arm to lighten the mood. She giggled and took my arm. My world righted itself hearing her laugh again. “Ready to get back in there?” I asked.

She squeezed my hand and assured me, “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Charlie certainly seemed in better spirits pulling me along to the dance floor, I couldn’t keep the giant grin off my face. I was grateful for being useful to someone for once. I’d chase that feeling to the ends of the Earth.

#pixelberry #choices stories you play #choices #maxwell x mc #maxwell beaumont #the royal romance

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 3 years

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Meeting and Dating Ricky Vaughn

(Not my gif)(Requested by @ageofthegeekbby )

(A little heads up: I’ve only watched the first movie so that’s what this is based off of)

- You and Ricky met when he first arrived at the field. You were hired as an assistant to the coach, you’d keep notes and files on the players and take calls while the coach was busy so you obviously came into contact with the players during the day.

- Ricky is an ...intimidating figure. He’s this brooding, mysterious guy with a hair pin temper; and a criminal record behind him. That being said, you couldn’t deny that he was attractive. Alternative, punky and a damn good player; he always caught your eye when you were out on the field.

- As a sort of protocol, you were introduced to everyone just before tryouts began. With that in mind, you had your first conversation with Ricky after one of the teams practices.

“Hey! Hey, you!” He’d called after you and you’d paused a bit nervously in your place.

“What uh-what do you have written for me in that book of yours?” He asked.

“I’m not really allowed to share that Mr. Vaughn.” You’d replied quietly.

“Well, can you ...can you just tell me if I’m getting the slip or not?” You looked at him and immediately saw the anxiety hidden behind his cool facade.

Taking pity on him you gave him his answer before walking off the field. “Not this week Mr. Vaughn.”

- After that, the two of you were still practically strangers to each other but you did share a few conversations and polite hellos every now and again. He felt like you were someone he could trust, someone that was one his side, regardless of the fact that you weren’t exactly friends. He liked you ...he liked you a lot.

- It was after another practice that his friends invited you out for a drink with them. When you showed up, you found that only Ricky was there and he seemed just as surprised at the fact that you were left alone together as you were.

- Regardless of the somewhat strange circumstances, the two of you shared a few drinks with each other. It was a bit awkward at first but you quickly found a subject you could both talk about.

- And talk you did! Hour after hour flew by before you checked your watch and realized how late it was. The two of you finished your drinks and began your trek outside.

- While you were walking back to your cars, he’d abruptly turned around and asked if you wanted to go out sometime, blurting it out before he backed out of asking. You smiled and agreed, writing down your number before saying goodnight and driving off, leaving him with a small grin spreading across his face.

- You have your first real date about a week or so later. The two of you go to a more quiet bar and grill as compared to the previous rowdy one you’d met at. He’s charming in his own rebellious type of way, interesting with a lot of crazy stories that you get to pull out of him. You both have chemistry and it’s obvious that you’re gonna see a lot more of each other after that.

- The two of you share your first kiss before one of his big games. Right before he was going to go out on the field, he’d pulled you in for a quick, rough, passionate kiss; as though kissing you would clear his head. And maybe it did, since he ended up winning that game for his team.

- From then on, you’re his little good luck charm.

- He likes Pda but that “macho man” sort of Pda. He wants to show people that you’re together; and just touch you in public, but he doesn’t want to look like a total wimp while doing it.

- He’ll usually just keep his arm around your shoulders.

- Kisses on the top of your head.

- Quick kisses before he goes off to do something, usually playing on the field or going off with friends.

- Passionate, rough kisses.

- Intense and heated makeouts.

- He enjoys cuddling when you do it but it’s not this necessary thing for him, if that makes sense. Whenever you do cuddle, he’ll usually be the big spoon or you’ll be in the “shingles” position.

- He sort of loves it when you call him wild thing. There’s just something so much better about it when it’s coming from you; even if you’re sort of mocking him with it.

- Half the time he absentmindedly calls you pet names but other times he uses them to tease you. He’ll usually call you things like Chickie, Princess, babe, and sweetheart.

- He probably gets a tattoo of you or your name; or something specific about your relationship, after the two of you have been together for a while.

- Sharing and swapping earrings with each other.

- As much as he loves everything about you, he can’t deny that he finds it hot when you wear leather and dark clothing. You’ve never seen such a “I’m in love” look spread across a mans face in your life.

- He gets you this little skull necklace that has his name engraved in the back and it quickly becomes your favorite piece of jewelry.

- Whenever he doesn’t have to wear it, he’ll affectionately shove his hat onto your head. He thinks you look cute in it and it’s one of those moments that bystanders see and think to themselves “oh, so thats why they’re a couple”.

- Wearing his jackets. He’ll put them over your shoulders whenever he knows its cold; even if you insist that you’re fine.

- Helping him cut his hair. It doesn’t even matter if you somewhat mess up since being messy and haphazard is what he’s all about.

- Running your fingers through his hair. He likes it and it helps give him that “I just got out of bed and don’t give a shit what I look like” look.

- Carrying an extra pair of glasses for him. He appreciates when you say that you think he looks good in them considering he thinks he looks like a jackass half the time.

- Buying him books to read while he’s traveling with his team.

- Late night visits when he’s in town.

- Attending as many of his games as you can.

- He has your picture taped up in his locker at all times. Like I said: you’re his good luck charm.

- Hearing a lot of interesting stories, both about his criminal past and his baseball career.

- Sometimes you’ll just be reminded that he was a felon. Like you’ll forget your keys somewhere and he’ll pick your lock, or hotwire you’re car, etc.

- Being stopped on the street or just approached in public when you’re with him since he’s The Wild Thing.

- Getting close with Jake and Willie; they are responsible for the two of you going out with each other after all.

- Teasing each other. He can be a smartass when he wants to be but other times its adorably sweet.

- He has fun with you; pretty much, no matter what you do. He’s a man and you’re his girl, he’ll humor you and your interests and he’s fully willing to chew someone out if they try to give him shit for it.

- He’s not really used to fancy restaurants; or fancy anything, so you tend to not go to them. He’s completely out of his element there so it’s probably easier on you to just choose more laid back places.

- He sort of just tails you silently whenever you bring him somewhere that isn’t his usual scene. You get your own personal living shadow for as long as you’re there.

- Horror movie dates.

- Bar dates.

- He probably buys a motorcycle; or already has one, so you’ll most likely take a few rides on that every now and again.

- He can be surprisingly sweet with you when you’re upset. He’ll kneel down in front of you and take you by the arms or face, asking what's wrong and listening quietly as you tell him. He’ll comfort you no matter how stupid the issue is.

- Your parents either love or hate him; there is no in between when it comes to the wild thing.

- Trying to help keep his temper in check.

- He tries to avoid things when he’s worried about them so you’ll occasionally have to give him a bit of a push and a pep talk.

- He always tries to keep his problems to himself. He doesn’t want to bother you with what's going on with him so he’ll usually just not tell you about them.

- He’s a very jealous person but not towards you, if that makes sense. Like he’ll get angry and want to fight with the guy rather than you whenever he does feel that way; especially if they know that you’re together.

- Overprotective. He’s immediately willing to fight someone for you; it’s how he shows his love.

“Want me to drag him out of here and kick the shit out of him?” He’s being completely serious.

- The two of you don’t have a lot of fights in your relationship but when you do, you’ll yell, curse, and borderline insult each other. He has some anger issues so he may throw things as well, but that’s usually after you’ve left.

- Whenever the two of you fight, he’ll usually go to drown his sorrows at the bar; that’s where you’ll pretty much always find him. He’ll apologize shyly whenever he has to and he’ll always easily forgive you when you have to; he doesn’t take things personally so he just sweeps whatever you may have said in anger under the rug.

- He’s only told you that he loves you a handful of times and each of them were during an important moment in your relationship/his life. He doesn’t take the phrase very lightly.

- He’ll never admit it but he definitely wants to have kids with you some day.

#major league imagine #major league imagines #major league headcanons #major league headcanon #ricky vaughn imagine #ricky vaughn headcanons #ricky vaughn imagines #ricky vaughn headcanon #80s movie imagines #80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon

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hi-hey-haechan · 4 years

Text

NSFW A-Z Analysis: Mark Lee

I’m still writing the prompts, but I felt like writing something a little different for once. Please let me know if you like these, for if you do, there will be more in the future. This was fun to write.

A ~ Aftercare

When you both come down from your highs, Mark is pretty tired. He’ll grab a warm towel and clean you up, and he’d get you a glass of water. Poor baby is exhausted after sex, though, so he really just wants to lie in bed and cuddle with you.

B ~ Body Part

On himself, he likes his cheekbones and jaw, and how they sort of sculpt his face. Plus, he knows that you appreciate them, as well. On you, he likes your thighs. He enjoys grasping onto them and the way the muscles in them flex whenever you walk. When he’s eating you out, he grasps onto them, and he’ll leave kisses and hickies on your inner thighs to tease you.

C ~ Cum

He appreciates the intimacy of cumming inside of you, and seeing his seed drip out of you drives him insane. However, he loves cumming in your mouth. Seeing you swallow his seed after you pleasure him with your lips and tongue is just so hot to him. On other occasions, he honestly loves cumming on your thighs, seeing him painted over your skin.

D ~ Dirty Secret

A dirty secret of Mark’s is that he secretly wants you to peg him. He’s afraid to try it, but he wanted to see how it would feel to have something like that inside of him, turning into a moaning mess. He’s watched porn of people being pegged, and it makes him really want to try it. Plus, he wants to see you dominant as you control the way he’s feeling, He wants you to decide the pace, at which that you thrust into him.

E ~ Experience

He’s inexperienced. He joined SM really young and he sort of gives off an awkward, shy, innocent, inexperienced vibe. He’d have a decent-enough idea of what to do.

F ~ Favorite Position

He loves being able to see you, so missionary is probably his favorite. He likes being able to go as fast or as slowly as he wants. He gets to see your face as you’re overcome with pleasure. He also likes it when you ride him, seeing your entire body on display. Plus, Mark has to admit that when you control the pace, he really enjoys it.

G ~ Goofy

Mark’s fairly shy and awkward, so he’d probably laugh or crack a joke or say something hilariously stupid in the middle of sex. When it’s just vanilla sex, the mood is really light. However, if something is on his mind, or if he’s angry and going rough, then he turns into a completely different person.

H ~ Hair

I can see Mark being fairly trimmed and neat. He isn’t hairless, not completely shaved, but he’s definitely groomed and he keeps himself tidy and at least trimmed. On you, he prefers it if you’re the same, since it makes eating you out easier. He really doesn’t mind, though ~ whatever makes you comfortable

I ~ Intimacy

Mark needs intimacy in order to have sex. He sees it as a precious thing that requires an emotional connection. He wouldn’t have sex with you if he wasn’t absolutely positive of how he felt about you. Either way, every action he makes is sincere and intimate during sex.

J ~ Jack Off

He does it less often than others, but more often than he’s willing to admit to. If you’re not there to satisfy him, his right hand will do the work. Mostly does it in the shower, so the falling water drowns out the sounds he makes. He’s not the best at holding sounds of pleasure back when he’s feeling good

K ~ Kinks

I see him as kind of vanilla, if I’m being honest? Like, he’s not a hard dom, nor does he enjoy being dommed harshly, either. He’s a total switch, though. Here are some kinks:

Hair-pulling (receiving)

Dominant (giving + receiving)

Submissive (giving + receiving

Oral Fixation (giving + receiving)

Overstimulation (giving + receiving_

L ~ Location

The bed is his favorite place to do it. It’s the most comfortable for both of you, and it also has the most amount of space. Plus, the entire aura and scene of the bedroom is comforting and also intimate within itself, which he adores. He may slowly branch out to the couch if he’s desperate enough to not move into the bedroom. Also, you didn’t hear it from me, but he enjoys the shower, as well...

M ~ Motivation

Your voice can turn him on, oddly enough. Hearing you whisper less-than-innocent things in his ear, in a low, hushed voice, literally sends blood rushing south. The way you move also turns him on. Like, the way your hips might move, especially in a certain outfit, turn him to putty.

N ~ No

Mark would refuse to do anything that could possibly hurt you. The farthest he’d go is spanking, and that’s only if you wanted him to. Even if it’s during sex, the idea of inflicting harm upon you is a huge no.

O ~ Oral

He would never turn down a blowjob. He finds it so hot to look down and see your lips around his hard length, and your mouth literally sends him to pure ecstasy. His hands tangle in your hair and his head is thrown back as swears and moans spill from his lips.

This boy could literally eat you out for hours. He loves how you fall apart just from his mouth and fingers. It drives him crazy when you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug lightly. He quickly learns what makes you feel good, and he uses this to bring you to orgasm after orgasm.

P ~ Pace

When you two are being more sweet and intimate, he enjoys going slow, being able to truly feel everything and every part of you. Sometimes, however, he can’t help himself and he finds himself getting lost in the moment and the pleasure, so he speeds up. He’s a dancer, so he knows how to use those hips and make you beg for him.

Q ~ Quickies

He definitely doesn’t prefer them. He prefers longer, more drawn-out sessions. While quickies can be hot, seeing how fast each other can cum in less-than-ideal circumstances, he doesn’t enjoy them. However, if both of you were really horny, I could see him really enjoying it while it’s happening, though.

R ~ Risk

He’s not one to take risks. The farthest he’s willing to go in terms of being caught is the couch in the dorms. Other than that, anything that could potentially hurt his career is a no-no ~ another reason he doesn’t enjoy quickies.

S ~ Stamina

He gets pretty wiped out after he cums. However, he’s able to bring you to your highs from his mouth and his fingers pretty easily. He can do one round of sex but a few rounds of foreplay, if that was what you wanted.

T ~ Toy

Unless you were really into them, he’s not into toys. In his eyes, why would you need a dildo, for example, when you have his cock to turn everything in your consciousness to pure ecstasy?

U ~ Unfair

I don’t see him as being very unfair in the bedroom. He’d tease you until you’re overstimulated, before coaxing you to multiple climaxes. Other than that, he’s fair in the bedroom. He kind of likes it when you make him beg for you, but shh, you didn’t hear that from me

V ~ Volume

He has trouble holding back, at times, when he’s feeling good. He has really pretty moans. Mark’s moans are fairly breathy and light, and he lets out multiple curses under his breath, especially at his climax.

W ~ Wild Card

You’re straddling him, his length sliding in and out of your dripping core as you ride him. You’re leaning forward, your lips almost touching his, but you choose to tease him, not giving him what he wanted. You pinned his wrists down above his head, ensuring that he couldn’t grab onto your hips to control the pace or help you. Mark’s eyes were screwed shut, his breathless moans becoming more whiny and desperate as you continued to ride him. You gyrated your hips in a circle on his. He whimpered out your name, completely at your expense as you sped up your movements.

X ~ X-ray

He’s about average, maybe a little less. He grows a bit in size when he’s hard. It’s pretty to look at, and he can literally make you fall apart from it. Mark knows how to use it, too.

Y ~ Yearning

He’s young, and despite seeming innocent, we all know that he has a fairly high sex-drive. However, he’s busy, so you two don’t get down to having sex for up to a week or so at times. On breaks and such, though...that’s a completely different story. A few times a week at least is when you’d have sex.

Z ~ Zzz

As mentioned, he gets pretty wiped out after he cums. However, he makes sure that you’re cleaned up and okay before he falls asleep.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #nct a-z #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct 127 smut #superm smut #nct imagines #nct #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct 127 imagines #superm #nct mark #mark lee #mark #if this flops im gonna cry #we will winwin

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years

Text

(Un)Wanted Part 3

Read on Ao3

(Un)Wanted Masterlist

A child that sees demons in every dark corner is not a child that is wanted.

A child that cries and freezes and mumbles of terrible things is not a child that is wanted.

A child that jumps and startles and hisses is not a child that is wanted.

Unwanted things are purged from the Earth.

So Virgil runs.

In other words: Virgil is an outcast, ostracized and shunned for how he was born, forced to flee an angry mob only to stumble right into a fae garden.

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Warnings: Implied/Referenced torture, child abuse, and self-harm, nothing super explicit. Sympathetic Deceit and Remus. Panic attacks, anxiety attacks.

Word Count: 7,040

Words are fucking stupid if you ask Remus.

Mortals have no idea what they’re doing with them and half the time they just make shit up and expect everyone else to go along with it. They don’t know what words are supposed to mean and half the time they try and pin down something that can’t be made into a single word into one and it’s just a big mess. There is one exception.

Feral.

Remus isn’t quite sure what gave mortals this one stroke of genius but he’s grateful for it. Feral. Even the word sounds like chaos. Which is just Remus’s cup of snail intestines.

Feral, or more accurately, going feral, is the closest thing a fae gets to absolute bat-shit. Which, in fairness, by mortal standards, isn’t that bat-shit. Oh, yeah, sure mortals don’t have nearly the firepower of the fae, but let’s be real, here folks, mortals perfected the clockwork of murder far better than any fae could hope to.

Going feral means what little hold a fae has on this fucking stupid temporal plane is tenuous at best. It means that bits of their aura manifest in ways that quickly go beyond the pitiful visible spectrum that mortals can tolerate. It means shapes and colors and energies that aren’t meant to be seen by mortal eyes, all barely held together by a flexible container of mostly water. A body, if you prefer the un-fun definition.

Going feral is the fine line between creation and destruction.

Remus is the one who goes feral the most often, even though it’s not why you think. It’s not directly tied to emotion, not really. If it was, Patton would be going feral every two seconds. It’s not even tied to sheer raw power. As much as Remus hates to admit it, that’s probably Snakey, even if it is only through his role as Gatekeeper.

No no no. It’s much worse than that.

Sir Nerd-A-Lot was right when he said that each of their ‘rooms’ is a slightly different layer of reality, something mortals can’t understand because of the way they’re made in this world. Although Remus’s way of understanding it wasn’t some tender touching of hands or soft words of explanation.

The rooms are different ways to see.

L’s room is like a normal pair of glasses. Makes things sharper, easier to understand, clearer. Less ambiguity.

J’s room is like looking through mist or fog. More gray areas, easier to twist the truth to what you want to see, easier to let your mind play tricks on you. Less easy to figure out exactly what’s going on.

Patton’s room is like always being in that weird soft stage mortals always say they have when they’re really sleepy. Not tired, because of course not, words are stupid. Sleepy is soft yawns and smiles and too-long sleeves and adorable smiles that make Remus want to pinch their cheeks until they fall off. Tired is squinty eyes and muttered complaints and downing that mysterious brown liquid. Patton’s room is being sleepy, everything a little softer, sweet enough to make Remus’s teeth ache.

His brother’s room is, uh, well. Remus really doesn’t know what makes his brother’s room that different from his when you get right down to it. It’s like…it’s like looking in two different mirrors. Princey’s room is like that mirror that always shows you what you’d like to see. It’s the one that makes your hair do whatever the fuck you want it to do or makes your eyes glimmer like whatever the fuck you want them to glimmer like. It’s dreamy and it’s whatever and Princey seems to like it. And yeah, okay, Remus isn’t too big to admit that his brother’s good at what he does, even if it’s a little boring for his taste.

Remus’s room is like looking into a mirror and the mirror looking back into you.

Remus doesn’t really give a shit about what mortals would rather tell themselves about what it is they really want or don’t want. He’s with Snakey on that one; mortals don’t really know what it is they want, and if they do, they rarely say it out loud. That’s okay. Remus can do that.

Remus lurks in the darkness, where mortals would rather not look. He delights in the twisted little things that straggle across their brains. It’s so much more interesting, looking at the absolutely horrible things that drift through their little minds and how much it makes them squirm. He’ll never understand why they try so hard to pretend they don’t exist, they make things so much more interesting.

And that’s the problem.

Remus is tied to those dark little things and sometimes…sometimes those dark little things don’t stay so dark and little.

Sometimes they come out and they’re darker in the daylight. Sometimes they take that darkness and force it somewhere it should never go. Sometimes they try and pretend that their darkness is other people’s fault.

That pisses Remus off.

Mortals hurt each other. That’s what they do. Sure, they also do a whole lot of other things but mortals feel. That’s what they’re built to do. So it’s inevitable that they’ll get hurt. But the darkness it takes to blame someone or something else for your darkness? That type of darkness makes Remus’s stomach curl.

Literally. He can feel it squirming around in there.

Or maybe that’s just the tentacles.

Listen, mortal forms and mortal-like forms are so stupid, okay? There’s no place to put anything and Remus has to make do.

When he goes feral, well…different story.

Remus hasn’t gone feral in a while. Not really. Not like this.

Not like the agony that was pushed into him by the snake, not like the ants that crawled around in his bones, not like the way it stripped him of himself, layer by layer, until he could only smile until his cheeks ached.

There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain.

Then he’d showed up in the garden and seen. Seen this tiny tiny mortal that should never have this much pain. Seen the lines drawn in burned wood in its head, seen the fear that clung to the little thing like water clings to a dead leaf, seen the marks.

And then they had been so cold.

Mortals aren’t supposed to be cold. They’re fiery little beasties, even the prissy ones. Their blood runs hot and their little heads like to run themselves silly and they have an awful tendency to burn themselves up with just the slightest push.

V shivered. V shook. V trembled and his skin had been so icy Remus had been teetering on the edge of going feral before he learned that other mortals did this to V.

He hadn’t really tried to stop it after that.

When he had V in his arms, it was better. He could feel V’s darkness scrabbling around inside his head, had been able to wrap his arms around it, hold it tight, feel so much and try and make it settle down.

Double-edged sword, that was.

Here’s the thing. Here’s the fucking problem.

V’s carrying around darkness that isn’t his.

Whatever monsters did this to him—he shouldn’t fucking call them monsters, monsters were better than this—made him carry around their darkness. Not his. Remus doesn’t even fucking know what darkness is V’s and what darkness has been made V’s. It’s like they picked one person, one person, and made them responsible for everyone’s darkness.

Mortals don’t like darkness.

Remus can’t imagine what they must have done if they gave their darkness a singular, corporeal, punishable form.

Well, no. He can imagine. That’s the fucking problem.

That’s the main reason why he pulled V aside and told him that, uh, maybe going to his room wasn’t the best idea. Don’t get him wrong, if V wants to Remus will sure as hell take him, that’s cool, but uh…might be a bad time. Thankfully, V didn’t seem too bothered by it, well…not more bothered. Remus wasn’t about to look a gift gulper eel in the mouth.

Seriously. Uma likes to eat some weird shit.

The lake is Remus’s favorite part of the forest, just because it’s the only place he really gets to work with his brother. Princey’s great at making everything else but like…it gets boring. Plus, they work better together anyway, even when they don’t agree all the time.

V’s got a much better appreciation for his stuff anyway.

Speaking of V, he’s sitting at the edge of the lake, knees tucked up to his chest, idly toying with a branch that drifted over to the shore. Remus paddles over, using his tentacles to keep him afloat as he cocks his head.

“Find something interesting?”

V shrugs. “It’s just a stick.”

…yeah, but like…it could be something else.

“Wanna play with it?”

V’s brow wrinkles. “How do you play with a stick?”

Ignoring the rush of what fucking mortal child doesn’t know how to play with anything and everything, Remus grins and whistles. A few seconds later the water’s surface stirs as something big trundles up to the surface.

“Ollie!”

The kraken burbles, wrapping Remus in an arm and giving him a light squeeze. Then it notices V, curled up on the shore, and hums, the water rippling all around it, as it moves toward the edge.

“Be careful,” Remus scolds as it pulls him with, “don’t beach yourself.”

Oliver protests lightly, before huffing and reaching out to lay one tentacle in the shallows. V smiles—Remus is so fucking happy V’s smiling now, okay? It’s so good—and waves. Oliver pokes the end of the tentacle out of the water and waves back.

“Your name is Ollie?”

“I call him Oliver,” Remus says, patting the tentacle still around his waist.

“Hi, Oliver,” V says softly, “it’s nice to meet you.”

The kraken rumbles happily, reaching out for V.

“Hey!” Remus lightly smacks the tentacle. “Ask first!”

“A-ask what?”

“He wants to hug you.” Sure enough, the tentacle near V twitches slightly, water pouring off the sides as it raises out of the lake. V watches it move warily. “he won’t hurt you, V, he’s sweet.”

Oliver burbles again.

“You don’t gotta,” Remus says quickly, “if you don’t wanna.”

V reaches out one hand, trembling slightly as the kraken reaches out to meet him. He pats the arm. Remus grins as Oliver gently taps him back.

“You wanna play with him?”

“How?”

“Throw the stick.”

“L-like a dog?”

“You throw dogs?” At V’s horrified face, Remus bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Yeah, V. Ollie likes playing fetch.”

V’s brow wrinkles adorably. “Really?”

Remus grins. “Ollie!” The kraken turns its head to look up at him. “Toss!”

The kraken rears back the arm and hurls Remus across the lake.

“Wheee!”

There’s nothing quite like being flung through the air and splashing down into a nice big body of water. Using his own tentacles to propel him back over to the other side, Oliver trills and reaches for him again.

“Ask,” Remus chides lightly, only to giggle and pat the arm that curls around his waist again. “You just want to hug? Okay.”

He turns to V, whose mouth is wide open. “See? Fetch.”

“That…that’s not normally how fetch works.”

Remus shrugs. “Ollie likes it.”

“Do..do you like it?”

“Yeah, I like it. It’s fun!”

Oliver reaches out slowly for V, laying the arm next to him on the shore. V glances at Remus before carefully reaching for the stick and nervously offering it to Oliver. Oliver takes it and passes it to Remus who grins.

“Ready?”

V nods.

“Ollie, toss!”

This time, as Oliver hurls him across the lake, Remus chucks the stick as hard as he can away from him, laughing when Oliver trills and dives after it. As Remus swims back, he sees V scramble to his feet, peering anxiously into the distance.

“Don’t worry,” Remus calls, treading water, “he’ll find it and come back. He always does.”

Sure enough, not a few seconds later, and the water parts, revealing a very pleased Oliver and a stick clutched delicately in one of his arms. V’s eyes widen as Oliver holds it out, taking the proffered stick carefully.

“See?” Remus beams. “Fetch.”

“Fetch,” V echoes breathlessly, “good job, Oliver.”

“You wanna do it again?” V nods. “Great. Chuck the stick at me.”

“Wait, but...what if it hits you?”

“I’m a fucking fae, V, and it’s a fucking stick. Chuck it at me.”

Remus catches the stick even if he has to lift himself out of the water to do it. Oliver burbles and Remus nods, letting Oliver curl around his waist again.

“V,” he calls, “you wanna tell him this time?”

Glancing back and forth between the two of them, V nods. “Toss!”

Oliver launches Remus with more enthusiasm than he has in a while. So much so that Remus laughs the whole way across the lake and the whole way back.

“I think he’s trying to impress you,” he remarks when Oliver zips back and forth faster and faster.

“I’m impressed.”

Oliver lays the stick on the grass and reaches out for V. V pats the arm only for his eyes to widen when Oliver reaches further and rumbles.

“He wants to pick you up, V,” Remus explains.

“D-does he want to throw me?”

“I’m sure he’d love it if you let him,” Remus says, quickly continuing when V balks, “but I think right now he really just wants to hold you.”

V still looks unsure. Remus taps his fingers against the arm around his waist, thinking.

Hmmm…

Oh hey wait I’ve fucking got it.

“V?”

“Y-yeah?”

“You wanna ride?”

V’s eyes widen. “Ride?”

“Yeah.” Remus gestures around. “Lake’s fucking huge, and there’s cool shit everywhere. Plus, Ollie likes you a lot and he’d be real happy to give you a ride if you wanted.”

Oliver trills in agreement.

“…okay,” V mumbles eventually, “can I…can I have a ride?”

“Sure you can. You wanna swim out and let me help you up or you want Ollie to set you on his head?”

“I—I can do it.”

“Cool.” Oliver sets Remus on his head and Remus shifts around a bit, trying to work out where the most secure place for V to sit would be. He glances up when V carefully steps into the water, having removed his boots. Oliver shifts around slowly, arranging his tentacles into stairs that V can use to get up.

“D-duke?”

“Yeah?”

“H-how do I get up?”

“You can climb, climb his arms.”

V tilts his head. “What if I hurt him?”

It makes Remus chuckle. “V, you’re tiny. You’re small and light and you’re a mortal. You probably couldn’t hurt him if you tried, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be doing this if it was gonna hurt. You’re all good, climb up.”

V climbs, slowly and carefully, always wary about where he’s putting his hands or his feet, until he steps onto Oliver’s head and sinks down next to Remus.

“Good job!” Remus shuffles a little closer. “Ollie’ll go slow for you, but if you wanna hang onto something, you just lemme know, okay?”

V nods. Remus pats the head under them.

“Okay! You be nice, yeah? You’re carrying precious cargo here.”

Remus bites back a laugh at V’s nervous squeak when Oliver rumbles, starting to move. He scrabbles a little for a handhold.

“Here,” Remus suggests, flopping onto his stomach, “get low. Less chance of falling off.”

V just curls into himself, trying to hold onto something. Remus frowns, then carefully sits up as Oliver finishes turning toward the rest of the lake.

“You can hang onto me if you want,” he offers, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Can I?”

“Mhm.” Remus shifts a little closer, opening his arms. “Or I can hang onto you.”

Nothing feels better than the satisfaction of having V crawl into his lap, letting Remus cuddle him with his back against Remus’s chest, tentacles hanging onto Oliver. Oliver rumbles happily, lazily swimming around the edge of the lake. As they go, he can feel V start to relax, some of the tension seeping out as he slumps against Remus. Remus smiles, closing his eyes to just feel V not being so afraid, for once, feel that pain start to lessen, even if it’s just the smallest bit. Let a little bit of the darkness be chased away.

By the time they’re back to the familiar shore, Oliver eases gingerly into the shallows and hums. Remus chuckles.

“Good workout today, huh, buddy?”

Another rumble.

“Come on,” he mutters to V, “you want me to help you down or you got it?”

“I got it.”

Remus opens his arms and watches V climb back down just as gingerly, giving Oliver one last pat before sitting on the shore. An arm wraps around Remus’s waist and squeezes.

“Yeah, yeah, I had fun too, buddy. You go eat something?”

Oliver gives one last rumble and disappears below the surface of the lake. Remus hauls himself out and flops down on the grass beside V, stretching lazily. Snakey’s got a point with this whole sun-warmed surface thing. He can feel himself relaxing.

“Thank you.”

At V’s mumble, Remus opens one eye. “Sure, you’re welcome. You have fun?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m glad.”

There’s another stretch of silence. Remus sits up, looking at how V stares at the lake. It’s one of the only times V’s brow isn’t furrowed. Remus decides he likes it better than way.

“I like the lake,” V confesses quietly, almost too quiet for Remus to hear. “It’s nice.”

The note of childish wonder in his voice makes Remus feel…weird. It’s not a bad weird, it’s not necessarily a good weird either though. It’s just…weird. Like there’s something fluffy in his chest, something that really wants to make V always sound like this.

“Good.” Remus shifts a little closer. “What do you like about it?”

V thinks for a moment, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I like the water.”

“The water?”

A small nod. “Water is good.”

Something changes. A little darkness colors V’s tone and Remus sits up a little straighter.

“…’good?’” He tests the word out on his tongue. “Why is water good, V?”

“Because it isn’t fire.” V curls in on himself. “Fire is bad.”

The fluff is gone.

Pain pain pain pain there’s flames rising higher and higher as the crowd grows more and more restless there are sparks and smoke and the wood burns slowly so slowly so slowly the flames creep higher and higher and the man holds a torch aloft and it burns it burns it burns it’s getting closer no please not now—

“Duke! Duke!”

Remus growls, the power seeping through him. How dare they, how fucking dare they, the darkness rolls off in waves, crashing, building, flowing higher and higher and higher and—

“Shh, shh, you stay behind me, okay?”

It runs deeper. Pushes. Pulls. Opens his mouth. Tilts his head back. The tentacles writhe. The lake trembles. So much. So much.

“Duke, duke, I need you to listen to me.”

…Princey?

What’s Princey doing here?

“Duke. Duke. You need to stop, you’re scaring V.”

Remus growls again, closing his eyes and swallowing the darkness. It sinks into a pit in his chest and he swallows, pushing it back into the depths and away from him. Away from V.

He growls, curling in on himself, willing the mass of tentacles to behave, settle down, holding himself tightly and trying to dissipate the extra energy.

“Good…that’s it. Both of you just have a breather, okay?”

Remus opens his eyes. He’s by the lake. There’s no one here to hurt anyone. He’s alright. They’re alright. He takes one more breath and the last of the mania settles.

He looks over and regret burns a hole in his chest. The prince stands there, having pulled V behind him, one hand held out towards Remus, the other hovering protectively over V. V’s curled in on himself so tightly he can barely see him behind the prince.

Fuck. He fucked up. Did he…

“…is he blind?” Remus manages, unable to tear his eyes away from this poor poor thing.

“No,” the prince says softly, “he’s not.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” The prince looks at him with a soft fury. “Come on, Re, you know better.”

“It hurts, Ro,” Remus mutters, unable to stop himself from slipping into the nickname, “it…it’s fucking painful.”

“Does it hurt still?”

“Like maggots crawling under my skin.”

The prince winces sympathetically. “How do you think it is for V?”

“I know,” Remus mutters angrily, “I’m pissed about that too.”

They both stop, looking at V huddled on the ground, shaking and mumbling something. Fuck. Fuck, what has Remus done?

They just fucking got him feeling safe, he just got comfortable asking for things, hell he’s just started being able to sleep in his room…did Remus fuck all of that up?

“…ke.”

Remus blinks, straining to hear. The prince does too, turning his head to look down at V. Neither speaks.

“…ke…d…ke…”

Remus’s chest clenches.

“…duke…duke…”

The prince drops to one knee, reaching out to gather V close. “It’s alright, V, breathe…shh, you’re alright, sweetheart, no one’s hurt.”

“Duke…”

“He’s alright, sweetheart, he’s okay.”

“Duke.”

The way V’s voice cracks hurts almost as much as going feral did. Remus watches helplessly as V rocks himself back and forth, his arms wrapped so tightly around himself that he can hardly see where one ends and the other begins. He keeps shaking his head, mumbling ‘duke’ over and over.

The prince glances at Remus then back to V. “…do you want the duke, sweetheart?”

“…d-duke…”

Remus swallows. Please, please let this be right.

“...V?”

V keens, one of his hands slowly reaching out. Remus scrambles forward, almost knocking his brother out of the way. The prince merely huffs. Remus stares at V, hoping, hoping…

“V, can you hear me?”

“Duke?”

“Yeah, V, it’s me, I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Duke.”

“Can I—“

Remus doesn’t get to finish his sentence. V doesn’t quite throw himself into Remus, but it’s close. Remus wraps around him immediately, tentacles and all, curling in on V as V clings to him, tighter, tighter, tighter.

“Oh, you two,” he hears the prince murmur distantly, “what will we do with you?”

Remus doesn’t much care what his brother thinks right now. All he cares about is having V safe in his arms and alive and warm, holding onto him tightly. V keeps sobbing out ‘duke,’ over and over, slowly growing less and less frantic. The prince sits there, gently stroking his hand through Remus’s hair.

It takes a while—much fucking longer than Remus would like—to finally get everyone to settle down. They slump there, on the ground, still curled around each other. The prince huffs a laugh, ruffling Remus’s hair before standing up.

“I think you two,” he murmurs, “should talk, hmm?”

Remus nods, still holding V tightly. The prince gives him a nod and vanishes back into the forest.

“…V?”

V shifts a little. “Mm?”

“Can we talk about, uh, what just happened?”

A few seconds pass and V scoots further into Remus’s lap. “…can we stay like this?”

“Of course,” Remus says instantly, “we can stay like this. I, uh, I wanna apologize.”

“For what?”

Remus swallows. “Going feral. Scaring you. Almost blinding you.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“…I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

He feels V’s head shake against his neck. “It—I—mmphf.”

“Take your time,” Remus says quickly, “I’m not gonna let go if you don’t want.”

“Don’t…”

He squeezes. “I won’t.”

V is the perfect little weight in his lap. Soft, not too heavy, just this side of too warm, cuddling into him with the persistence of a snuggle-deprived jellyfish.

Oh, V should totally meet the school of jellyfish. He’d love them.

“…no one’s ever done that before.”

V’s voice is so quiet that for a moment, Remus isn’t even sure he’s spoken. Then he shifts again.

“No one’s ever done that for me.”

“…go feral?”

V shakes his head. “…be protective.”

Oh, this is not the time to be making such broken, heartfelt confessions because Remus can and will get pissed all over again at everything and everyone that made V think he wasn’t worth protecting.

“…oh, little monster…”

If V doesn’t like the pet name, he gives no indication. In fact…V almost burrows into him. Remus tightens his grip again, rocking V back and forth the way he remembers Patton doing.

“I—I’ve never had—“ V gasps against his shoulder— “I don’t know how—it—I—“

“Shh, little monster,” Remus burbles, trying really really fucking hard to remember how to do this, “you, uh, you just breathe, okay? I’m right here. You don’t have to know things.”

“—I don’t wanna be afraid,” V manages, “I don’t wanna be afraid.”

“You don’t have to be, little monster, you don’t.”

“Y-you—“

“Hang on, little monster,” Remus interrupts gently when V’s breaths start to get faster again, “you gotta slow down, come on…”

They breathe together.

“…yeah?”

“You make me feel safe,” V blurts, “and—and I don’t wanna…I don’t wanna not.”

His fingers tap out an anxious rhythm on Remus’s back.

“Feral is scary.”

“Feral is scary,” Remus murmurs in agreement, “and, uh, I’m trying not to do it.”

He pulls back and gently nuzzles into V’s hair.

“Don’t wanna scare you.”

“No one’s ever been angry for me before,” V whispers, “it’s…it’s nice.”

“Well, I’m not gonna stop being angry at them,” Remus mutters, “but I will get better at not scaring you.”

“I-it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, little monster,” Remus corrects gently, “the others are right. I could hurt you going feral way more than I would hurt anyone who deserves it. So I gotta be better about that. For you.”

“For me?”

Remus clutches him tighter. “For you.”

He’s being serious. Absolute fucking stone right now. This cinched it. He could’ve hurt V really fucking bad by going feral right then. He knows he can’t risk that happening again, so he’s gotta figure his shit out real fast.

There’s one person he knows will be able to help him.

L raises an eyebrow when Remus appears next to his desk. “Well, this certainly is unexpected. Is something the matter?”

“Yeah.” Remus shuffles. L’s room makes him feel like sandpaper. “I need your help not going feral.”

L blinks. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting. I must highlight the fact that suppressing your nature is not a long-term solution.”

“I’m not trying to stop it permanently. I just…” Remus twists his hands together. “I fucked up earlier.”

L sits. “Tell me?”

Remus explains what happened, from the fetch to the ride to learning that one of the reasons that fucking hurt so much was that they burned—

“I see,” L interrupts stiffly, his own hands starting to clench, “and I am…proud of you, Duke.”

Remus blinks. “Wait, what? Why?”

“Of your restraint,” L mutters, “and of the fact that you recognized that this was a problem and you have come to try and find a solution.”

Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, Remus gnaws on his bottom lip, trying to relieve the extra energy. Going feral twice in one day is not a good idea.

“Don’t do that,” L says.

“Do what?”

“Bite.” L taps the side of his mouth. “Not healthy.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “it’s not like I’m gonna bleed out, L.”

“No, you won’t,” L says, “but it’s still not a healthy coping mechanism.”

“So?”

“So—“ L crosses his arms— “you’re trying to be better for V. V will very much be hurt by something like that.”

Ah.

Fuck, that’s a good reason.

“Okay,” Remus mutters, “okay. What can I do?”

“What helps you calm down normally,” L asks, “when you go feral?”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” Remus sighs, “I don’t—it’s not—it’s not like it’s happened recently!”

“It’s V, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“V.” L motions for Remus to sit down, folding his hands in his lap. “V has…a lot of emotional trauma. You are perhaps the most linked with emotional trauma.”

“Isn’t that Pat-Pat’s job?”

L shakes his head. “Pat works with emotion, what is currently being experienced. You, however, and your brother, are more closely tied to memory.”

“So…”

“So you, more than any of us, even your brother, are being affected by this change.”

“But it’s not his fault.”

“No, and neither is it yours. It simply is.” Remus buries his face in his hands. “Not the answer you were looking for, I’m sure.”

“Really fucking wasn’t.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” L prompts, “what normally helps you calm down?”

“Fuck, I don’t know! Calming down isn’t really my strong suit. That’s my birthday suit.”

L pinches the bridge of his nose. “Focus, please.”

Remus sits back in the chair. What helps him calm down?

Well…

“…safe,” Remus mumbles, “safe makes me calm down.”

“When you feel safe?”

He shakes his head. “When V is safe.”

L makes a noise of understanding. “Your ‘going feral’ is caused by the pain you experience when V is under stress, caused by his past trauma. Thus whenever you can remind yourself that he is safe, and no longer in danger, it helps you snap out of it.”

“But now I’m the danger.”

“Are you trying to hurt V?”

“What?” Remus leaps to his feet, the air crackling. L sits, impassive as always. “No!”

“Are you willingly putting V in situations where you know he will be upset?”

“What the fuck is—“

“Are you?”

“No!”

“When you are in a place where you could hurt V,” L continues, still smooth as fucking glass in his chair, “do you try and distance yourself so you do not?”

Oh. Remus gets it now.

“…yeah.”

“Then,” L says firmly, “you are not the danger you believe yourself to be.”

Remus sits back in the chair slowly. “…said I make him feel safe.”

“You do,” L says, “more than most of us do, I would guess. I imagine that…having someone be as protective as you are is something quite foreign to V.”

“Shouldn’t be.”

“No. It shouldn’t.”

Remus scrubs his hands over his face, wishing that this was fucking easy, that they could just…wipe them all out. Make the fear go away. Make the scars disappear.

But they can’t.

“What can I do, then,” Remus mumbles, “it—it wasn’t so bad today because Princey showed up.”

“Having another person helped?”

“No, well, kind of.” Remus twists his hands together again. “…made sure he pulled V outta the way.”

“Mm.”

There’s a few moments of silence while L thinks, idly tapping a finger against his wrist.

“I have noticed,” he says after a while, “that the times when you are most likely to ‘go feral,’ so to speak, coincide with times when V is experiencing particularly high levels of stress.”

Remus nods.

“You have also stated that when V feels safe, and perhaps when you are able to make him feel safe, you’re able to calm down faster.”

Another nod. L’s fucking good at problem-solving.

“Do you think, then,” L says, “that if we were to help you get better at calming V down, you would, in turn, be able to calm yourself faster?”

“L, you’re a fucking genius.”

L blushes too, did you know that? “Well, I…”

“So what do I do?”

“Right.” L adjusts his tie. “What do you know already?”

Remus thinks. “He, uh, he likes to be asked before anything happens, including being moved or touched.”

“Good. What else?”

“…he doesn’t like loud noises, or bright lights.”

“Good.”

“No fire.”

“Mm.”

“He likes the lake?”

“Does it help him calm down?”

“…dunno.”

L nods. “Anything else?”

Remus thinks. What else, what else…

“Having his eyes closed,” he says carefully, “helped before, didn’t it? Stopped him from getting super overwhelmed?”

“That is possible,” L says, “but it is unlikely to be something you try first, as it would require a decent amount of cognitive awareness or physical contact to achieve, both of which are not frequent in times of high stress.”

“What can I do, then?”

“How likely do you think it is that you will be able to speak calmly?”

Remus snorts. The corner of L’s mouth quirks up.

“Mm. Then it might be better to try something else, then.”

“Something else?”

L tilts his head, looking at Remus with that stare that makes him feel like L can see through him. “I have also noticed that with you, V does not seem as…averse to physical contact.”

Wait, what?

“When you held him in the garden, when he first arrived,” L says, “and when you rubbed his back. He was not afraid of you, no more than he was startled. Admittedly, this was during a prolonged period of high stress.”

“W-wait, you’re right, earlier, he—“ Remus wraps his arms around himself— “by the lake, he…he asked for me. He…”

“He initiated contact?”

“…yeah.”

A soft smile comes over L’s face. “I’m pleased.”

“Why?”

“Because you, perhaps more than the rest of us,” L continues, “are very eager to protect V. So much so that it leads to…”

“Going feral.”

“Indeed. And if V chooses to seek comfort from you…” L raises his eyebrows pointedly.

“…then…then I can do it that way.”

“Correct.”

L gets up, reaching for a glass of water. He holds it out to Remus who takes it carefully.

“Why’s this so fucking hard?”

“Because nothing like this is easy, Duke,” L answers, fetching a glass for himself, “for anyone involved. I, for one, am impressed.”

“…by?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” L says, “and how much you have…decided to change your approach.”

Ah. Yeah.

Yeah, the last time they found a mortal that had been…mistreated—apparently, Pat-Pat had an issue with Remus calling it ‘super fucked up’ even though it was—they’d died just on the outskirts of the garden.

“Not with V,” Remus mumbles, “I want V to stay. They were already gone.”

A few moments of silence pass, then there’s a soft whoosh.

L sighs. “You can come out, J.”

J strides out of the shadows, part of Remus’s mind trying valiantly to convince him that he’s been there the whole time. He hasn’t, Remus fucking knows he hasn’t, but still.

“Where’s V?”

“With Pat,” J answers smoothly, “eating.”

“Good,” L says, “difficult emotional experiences should be followed by food.”

Remus winces. He can almost feel the fucking room get colder. J’s head tilts.

“I’m sure I know exactly what you’re referring to,” he says softly, “and I wouldn’t appreciate an explanation.”

L, the asshole, just looks at Remus. Remus sighs and explains again.

J takes one deep breath and lets it out slowly. Remus bows his head, waiting. Then he feels gloved fingers carding through it and he shudders.

“Did you need something?” he hears L ask.

“I was out for a walk,” J says, still stroking Remus’s hair, “by the lake. Something felt…off. So I tried to find the duke.”

“‘M here.”

“I can see that.”

“Needed L’s help.”

“And did you get it?” Remus nods, not wanting to jar J’s hand loose. “Good.”

“We do just have the theory, however,” L muses, “and no practice.”

“I may be able to help with that.”

Remus looks up when J’s fingers leave his hair. “I’m listening.”

It’s later, much later, when Remus finally leaves L’s room. The forest is twinkling, his brother sitting crosslegged on his favorite stump. Remus hugs him tightly, thanks him for being there earlier.

“Of course, Re,” his brother murmurs, “and thank you for being there.”

“I will be,” Remus says, “I will be.”

It’s not much later when Remus is walking back to the clearing and a scream rips through the air.

The door is locked. It’s locked tight. Remus can’t push. He can’t push. He can’t ruin this.

The scream keeps going.

“V! V!”

Keeps going.

It aches. It aches and the longer it goes, the longer it hurts, the harder it gets for Remus to keep from breaking the door down. Then a flurry of footsteps and—

“V!”

Remus catches V as he barrels out of his room, barely having enough time to open his arms and catch his balance. V’s eyes, wide with panic, settle on Remus’s face.

“V,” Remus repeats softly, “V.”

“…duke?”

“Yeah. Yeah, little monster, it’s Duke.”

“…duke.”

Remus eases them to the ground, keeping his arms firmly around V. He draws him gently into his lap, closing his eyes and burying his face in V’s hair, feeling V curl up in his lap, still shaking, still shivering. A bolt of pain shoots through his chest when he feels the raw cry against his throat and his arms tighten around V, trying in vain to take some of that pain and push it into himself. V so desperately needs to stay mortal, to stay V, to feel. The last thing he wants is for this to destroy V beyond repair.

“It’s alright, little monster, I got you, you’re safe, I’m not going to let anything hurt you, shh, just keep breathing for me.”

He keeps up the litany of calm reassurances and comforting noises, rocking V back and forth on the ground. V’s shuddering breaths echo in the still clearing. His hands and arms tremble violently against Remus’s back and he can’t tell whether it’s because they’re holding onto him so tightly that his muscles are shaking or if he’s panicking so much he can’t stop shaking. The monster growling inside Remus’s chest starts snarling when V shudders harder.

No. Not now. He’s safe. Keep him safe.

Remus breathes. Tells the beastie in his chest to pipe the fuck down. Wraps himself around V and holds him close.

Safe. Safe. Safe.

They’re safe.

“...V?”

V mumbles, burying his cold nose in Remus’s neck.

“Hey, V,” Remus murmurs, “can we, uh, can we get you out of the forest? It’s gonna get cold before too long, little monster.”

V nods, not moving.

“…can I carry you then, little monster?”

Another nod.

Scooping V gingerly into his arms, Remus hesitates. He doesn’t want to take V into his room, not now, but he also doesn’t want to push V too far, to push his way into V’s room.

“V? Little monster?” V moves a little bit. “Can we go into your room?”

“…stay?”

“Yeah, V, I’ll stay with you, little monster.”

Remus carries him inside, gently sitting on the floor with V still in his lap when he flinches at the noise the bed makes. He uses his tentacles to hold them slightly off the floor. He keeps rocking them slowly back and forth, murmuring safe, safe, safe.

“…safe?”

“Yeah, V.” Remus swallows. “We’re safe.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” He adjusts his grip. “…you wanna talk about it? It’s okay if you don’t.”

V mumbles something.

“I can’t hear you, little monster,” Remus murmurs, shifting a little, “can you say it again?”

“…just names.”

“Names?”

V clutches Remus’s arms tightly. “…names they used to call me.”

“Like what? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he adds hastily.

V hooks his chin over Remus’s shoulder, still breathing hard. Remus glances around.

“Can I get you something to drink?” V nods. “Still want me to keep hold of you?”

“…please?”

“Sure.”

Tentacles are useful things. When V has a glass of water in his hands, Remus lets him sit back a little, drinking carefully as Remus runs his hands over V’s back. V’s eyes drift closed and he lets out a tired mumble.

“Sleepy?”

“Mm.”

Remus hums, letting V collapse a little bit more into his lap. He turns V slightly so that he can keep hold of the water.

“…said I was a demon.”

“What?”

“The…others,” V mumbles, fear and weariness warring in his tone, “said I was a demon. That I was…cursed.”

Words are so fucking stupid.

Mortals are so fucking stupid.

“You’re not cursed, V,” Remus says firmly, “promise. We’d be able to tell if you were.”

“…really?”

“What the hell made them say you were cursed?”

V hesitates, little ripples appearing in the water. Remus tugs him closer, murmuring safe, safe, safe.

“…my eyes,” V whispers, “they said my eyes showed I was…evil.”

Now that.

That is truly the fucking stupidest thing Remus has ever heard.

V giggles softly when Remus says as much, letting Remus stroke a hand through his hair and wrap his other arm firmly around his waist. He slips a hand slowly under V’s tunic, pressing against his tummy and rubbing.

“Mm,” V hums, “…warm.”

“Good,” Remus says, “good, V.”

He shakes his head. So fucking stupid.

“You’re not cursed, V. You’re not evil. You’re not a demon. Words are fucking stupid and mortals are stupid too.”

“…they are?”

“In big groups? Absolutely.” Remus sets his chin protectively on top of V’s head. “You are a smart one. And that’s good.”

“I’m good?”

The vulnerable shake in V’s voice coaxes Remus to guide V’s gaze upward.

“You are,” he says firmly, brushing the hair out of V’s violet, violet eyes. “And your eyes are fucking stunning.”

He chuckles when V flushes, trying to hide his face in Remus’s neck again.

“Princey must’ve had fun with you, hmm?”

“Still is,” comes the mumble.

“He’s not hurting you, is he?”

“…no, I’m just…not used to it.”

Remus hums, closing his eyes. The arm around V’s waist squeezes tightly. At the breath that sounds almost torn out of him, V relaxes.

“…is that what Oliver’s hugs feel like?”

Grinning, Remus squeezes him tighter. “You want to find out tomorrow?”

“…please?”

“Of course, little monster.”

V’s not cursed.

V’s not a demon.

And V’s eyes are gorgeous.

Words are just fucking stupid.

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