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evafrechette · 3 years

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With A Little Help From My Hyung

↠ yoongi x seokjin | smut | friends to lovers, slow burn | 18+ | 2.4k

↠ Summary: Seokjin is the best roommate Yoongi could have asked for, he’s funny, respectful, a good cook and incredibly handsome. That’s a big problem though - because Yoongi has a constant boner over him.

↠ Warnings: eventual smut, drama queen yoongi, oblivious seokjin, blowjobs, standing sex, yoongi enjoys seokjin carrying him around, anal sex, yoongi is clumsy and hurts himself, which is a great excuse to have seokjin look after him, the other members make a small appearance, my fic usually has a few swear words, hyung kink???

"Hyung, stop it. Leave me alone." Yoongi's deep voice grumbled defiantly.

"Aish, quit being a baby Yoongi-yah, let me help." Seokjin held his hand out to the smaller man who sat on the cold concrete ground below him, food scattered around his aching body, tangerines rolling down the sidewalk.

Yoongi slapped away Seokjin's hand, scowling at his annoying roommate. He got onto his knees and attempted to stand, wincing in pain the moment he put pressure onto his left foot. Only moments before he and Seokjin had left the convenience store, arms full of energy drinks, jelly candy, ramen and tangerines. But Yoongi being Yoongi was busy in his own world and didn't notice the patch of ice on the footpath right in front of him, once his foot touched the slippery ice he slipped and wobbled about, struggling to balance before his legs came out from under him, falling directly onto his ass. Paper bag flying out of his grip, contents spilling onto the sidewalk.

He tried to stand again, taking his time as he clung onto Seokjin's arm, managing to get himself upright, left foot hovering above the ground, but when he placed it firmly against the sidewalk pain shot up his leg and he suddenly felt faint. "Shit, I think it's broken Hyung." He looked up into Seokjin's eyes, refusing to let the tears spill. Yoongi was in pain, a lot of fucking pain but he couldn't let his hyung see him be a cry baby.

"You hit the ground hard but it's probably just a sprain or something, I doubt it's broken. You're a real drama queen Min Yoongi. Can you stand by yourself for a bit?" Yoongi nodded in reply and let go of the elders arm, watching as he carefully rushed around picking up the spilled food and shoved it into his own bag. Seokjin walked back to Yoongi, spinning around so his back faced the man. He crouched down, holding the overfilled paper bag tight against his chest. "Jump on Yoongi-ah, and don't even try it with me. I'm your Hyung you have to listen to me."

Yoongi rolled his eyes but slowly hobbled over to his taller roommate, awkwardly jumping onto his back, arms wrapping around Seokjin's neck, and his short legs around his waist when the older man stood. "I don't have to listen to shit." He mumbled into Seokjin's messy brown hair. Seokjin let out his trademark high pitched laugh as he carried his injured roommate back towards their apartment, "You're so full of it Yoongi."

The walk would usually only take five minutes, but carrying a grown man (who enjoyed complaining every few minutes) had a part in the trip taking close to twenty. Yoongi laid his head on Seokjin's wide shoulders and enjoyed the way his oversized blue shirt smelled of a calming mix of lavender and vanilla bean, he took a mental note to check what brand of washing powder the man used when he got home.

Something about being carried on Seokjin's back made Yoongi's belly flip, he had never felt so small and vulnerable in his life. He was the strong one of their group - the pit bull, small but tough, with an acid tongue that could make a grown man cry. But being carried around by his cute, tall, goofy roommate was actually kind of comforting, it felt nice to snuggle against his broad shoulders.

Yoongi could feel his cheeks heating up, he had been crushing on his video game loving roommate for a few months now. At first the blond thought they were just compatible roommates, respecting each others boundaries and privacy, they quickly became friends bonding over their love of cooking, but along the way Yoongi developed feelings. His eyes lingering on Seokjin longer than what was socially acceptable, sneakily scooching closer to his side on the couch while he watched Seokjin get annihilated playing video games and "accidentally" falling asleep during their movie marathon nights, head resting comfortably against Seokjin's shoulder. But Yoongi knew nothing would come of his little crush so he kept his feelings locked away and instead tried to focus on their good friendship instead.

Seokjin carefully placed Yoongi on the couch, pushing a cushion under his now swollen foot. He rushed off to Yoongi's room and returned with a blanket which he draped over the smaller man. With a happy hum he walked towards the kitchen and Yoongi watched with lovesick eyes as he put away their food shopping. Everytime Seokjin reached up for the top shelf his shirt would raise a little, giving Yoongi a glimpse of the tantalising caramel skin underneath. Yoongi longed to drag his calloused fingertips along that skin, to leave small kisses down Seokjin's spine, along his lower back and down over his firm ass. He sought to taste Seokjin, to feel his cock heavy on his tongue, to feel the burn of his cock stretching him out.

"Hey Yoongi are you okay?" A cool hand placed against his forehead brought Yoongi out of his Seokjin induced daze. His roommate was looking at him with fondness and concern, "Your cheeks are really red but you're not hot or anything. I thought maybe you were coming down with a fever." Yoongi knew he was even redder now, but he allowed himself to relax against the man's hand. He sighed when Seokjin withdrew his hand and moved to sit on the bean bag on the floor. "Yeah, no I'm fine. Just a bit embarrassed about this." Yoongi waved his hand over his ankle.

"Aish, these things happen. Just have to be more careful. And Hyung is here to take care of you okay? Anything you need you let me know. Keep that boney ass of yours on the couch."

The pair spent the rest of the night watching a marathon of Law of the Jungle, empty containers of ramen and Kloud draft beer scattered across the coffee table. Yoongi as usual was unable to keep the snarky comments to himself, "Pfft look at them! Useless. I could survive on that island so much better than any of them." He quipped as a team of celebrities dived into the ocean to try to catch fish with just their hands.

"Errrr Yoongi-yah, did you forget that I had to carry your tiny ass home this evening? Your weak ankles wouldn't last a day on that show." Seokjin doubled over in laughter, clapping his hands loudly as Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"Whatever Jin-hyung," he scoffed, "Like you'd do any better."

"Pretty sure I'd do great on a show like this! You've seen me fishing Yoongi, I'm practically a professional at it now."

Yoongi groaned at this, Seokjin had dragged him out fishing more times than he could even count and he was nowhere near a professional level. The last time they went fishing together Seokjin didn't catch a single fish. He did manage to catch some seaweed and disintegrating plastic bag though.

Yoongi could feel his eyelids getting heavy, and instead of fighting the feeling allowed himself to drift off to sleep, which wasn't hard as sleep was his favourite hobby after all. Yoongi was having a beautiful dream, he was being carried in Seokjin's strong arms as the brunette carried him along the golden hues of a sandy beach, gentle waves breaking along the shore splashing against Seokjin's bare feet. He mirrored Seokjin's smile as his Hyung looked down at him, carrying him bridal style while the breeze whispered sweetly around them both.

"Aish, Yoongi you are a pain in my ass, but you're kinda cute so it's okay I guess." His gummy smile widened at the sweet but slightly insulting words. "What are you smiling about you weirdo." Seokjin let out a small laugh.

Yoongi was confused, why was dream Seokjin insulting him? It took him a few seconds to realise that he was actually awake and that he was no longer asleep on the couch, but rather in the arms of his Hyung. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let his body go slack against Seokjin's chest, adding a few very realistic soft snores for good measure. Yoongi felt his body fall gently against the cold mattress on his bed, shivering slightly at the loss of heat from Seokjin's warm body. A blanket was dragged up his body, before footsteps retreated out of the room and the door clicking shut quietly.

Yoongi's eyes widened once he was alone in the dark room, had he heard correct? Did Seokjin just call him cute? It took all his self control not to squeal like a teenage girl. He wiggled down the mattress, throwing the blankets over his head and snuggled into his soft pillows. That night Yoongi had the best sleep of his life, with a smile on his face and a hard cock in his pants.

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The following weekend Yoongi found himself squished between his friends Jungkook and Hoseok in the back seat of Jimin's tiny Hyundai Pony hatchback. Usher's 'U Remind Me' thumped out of the piss-poor and incredibly outdated sound system, tinny and grating on his ears. His friends, including Taehyung who was sitting in the passenger seat, were singing along at the top of their lungs, he threw his head back and groaned. Why did he get stuck with the loud idiots of their group? Yoongi peered through the windscreen, tall, shapely pine trees lined the dirt road they traveled along. Dust swirled around the car, a curtain of brown blocking the view of the car travelling behind them. The sky was dotted with grey clouds, slowly drifting across the sky hiding the sun, who was trying it's hardest to make an appearance.

The car full of friends pulled into a small gravel parking lot and climbed out of the stuffy vehicle. They watched as the trailing car pulled up beside them, excitedly chatting and joking around now that everyone had finally arrived. Today was Namjoon's choice of activity, one Yoongi was secretly dreading - Hiking. He cast a glance towards Seokjin who was dressed in a pair of black and white track suit pants, sneakers, wide brim bucket hat with drawcord and a fluffy cream jumper. He swallowed hard at the thought of wrapping his arms around Seokjin's waist and resting his head against his fleece covered chest. He looked so snuggly and warm and cute, yeah, really really cute.

Yoongi zoned out while the others planned their trek, his mind too focused on Seokjin's beautiful plush lips, enthralled by how his Hyung randomly pouted while he spoke, his plump bottom lip puffing out before returning back to normal. Yoongi found this habit of Seokjin's incredibly endearing and wondered if the man was even aware of what he was doing. Or at just how crazy it was making Yoongi feel.

"Is everyone okay with the plan?" Namjoon asked, slipping away a map into the front pocket of his jacket. The group all spoke at once, loud and chaotic as usual. "Okay well let's go!"

The group trekked for a few hours, enjoying the challenging course. Up and down steep inclines, weaving through lush forest and snaking between narrow boulders that sat unsteadily on either side of their path. They eventually came across a small stream that separated the gravel path, Yoongi looked down at his feet and whined. "Do we have to go through that? I'm wearing brand new shoes." His nose scrunched as he caught sight of the shallow murky water he knew he would have to trudge through.

"Why would you wear new shoes on a hike Yoongi?" Hoseok laughed, clapping the smaller man on the back. Yoongi glared at his friend, tempted to turn around and walk back to the car. Fuck nature.

"Don't worry about it Yoongi-yah, climb on." Seokjin smiled, bending down in front of Yoongi, memories of the previous weekend flooded Yoongi's thoughts. Without hesitation Yoongi climbed onto his back, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. He placed his chin into the crook of Seokjin's shoulder and sighed as herbal scented hair brushed across his nose.

"O-okay then, well errr let's get going then." Namjoon raised his eyebrow, the rest of the group watching quizzically as Seokjin happily carried Yoongi across the stream. They exchanged looks with each other, hushed whispers at what had just transpired, Yoongi knew the others would be talking, getting a piggy back ride was pretty out of character for him, but he was blissfully peaceful at that very moment. So fuck what anyone thought.

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Back at their apartment that night the pair settled into their usual routine of cheap ramen, beer and trashy kdramas on the television.

"Hey Hyung, thanks for picking me up today," Yoongi bit nervously into his thumbnail, a habit he struggled to free himself from, "You didn't need to . . Hobi was right though, those shoes cost $300 why did I choose to wear them today?" Yoongi knew exactly why - he was trying to look good for Seokjin. He had dashed out to a Camping and Fishing store after work to purchase an entirely new outfit for the day. He settled on a long sleeved yellow and green flannel shirt, khaki trousers and a blue and black fleece fila jacket. Plus those damn tramping boots that cost as much as his share of the rent.

Seokjin leaned in, inches away from Yoongi's face, breath catching in the back of his throat, heart hammering against his rib cage. "It was my pleasure," Seokjin grabbed Yoongi by the cheeks and pinched, jiggling the flushed skin between his thumb and index finger, "That's what a good Hyung does, helps their cry baby friends out." He laughed, letting go of Yoongi and plopping back down onto his side of the couch. Yoongi's hand shot up to his cheek, fingers brushing along his warm skin. Seokjin's touch felt amazing, electric sparks coursed through his body, Yoongi wanted those hands touching him in places that crossed the line from friends to lovers, those long fingers curling up inside of him brushing against his sweet sensitive spot, wrapped around his cock pumping him until it was too much to handle and he was screaming Seokjin's name while he spilled his release over his Hyungs hand.

Yoongi found it hard to concentrate on the television in front of him, eyes constantly drifting towards his roommate who looked amazing in a pair of grey shorts and loose white T-shirt, his feet curled up underneath him, strong thigh muscles catching Yoongi's attention. He cleared his throat and quickly averted his eyes, Yoongi wasn't sure how much more of Seokjin he could deal with. He was the perfect roommate, but his desire to be fucked by the man was becoming an every minute of the day kinda thing. Maybe Yoongi needed to hurry up and move out. He thought about Seokjin at work, while doing his laundry, on the bus to the grocery store, while putting the rubbish out, when pumping his dildo in and out of his ass, Seokjin was on his mind 24/7.

Yoongi's cock twitched as he watched the couple on television, the male lead carrying the female through a cherry blossom lined park while a terrible ballad wailed in the background. He decided that being carried was his newest kink. Or maybe Seokjin's entire existence was his fetish? He tugged on his hoop earring as his thoughts travelled to a million different scenarios in which Seokjin would need to lift and carry him around. He recalled the previous weekend, waking up while Seokjin carried him to bed, how nice it felt to be held in Seokjin's arms, to hear him call Yoongi cute. He wanted, no he needed that again.

Yoongi glanced out of the corner of his eye, the brunette’s head was down as he browsed at something on his phone, he watered his lips and decided now was the perfect time to enact his master plan. Yoongi closed his eyes and let out a loud yawn, arms stretched high above his head, "Mmmm what's the time?" He asked Seokjin drowsily. "Huh? Oh it's 9:23, are you tired already?" The brunette placed his phone on the coffee table and shifted to face Yoongi. "You're not? We walked a million miles today, of course I'm tired." For theatrics he let out another yawn. Seokjin shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "Guess I've got a better stamina than you."

Over the next half an hour Yoongi let out more fake yawns, complaining about his sore muscles and tired bones - which Seokjin informed him wasn't a real thing and that he was being a whiny old man again. His body sunk into the couch, head lolling against the arm rest as he feigned falling asleep. It would only be a matter of time before he would be whisked away in Seokjin's arms and it was making him giddy, trying his hardest not to crack a smile. Yoongi heard the room fall silent, the television now switched off. His heart was racing, this was it - the big moment - his hands were softly shaking, breath uneven and shallow.

"Hey Yoongi, wake up." A large hand shook his arm attempting to wake him from his faux slumber. His eyebrows furrowed, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Seokjin was supposed to pick him up and carry him to the bedroom, whisper a few sweet words in his ear and maybe jerk him off a bit. He opened his eyes and glared at the handsome man standing over him, his plans were ruined and he and his neglected cock were pretty pissed off.

"Why didn't you just carry me Hyung?" Yoongi sulked, crossing his arms against his chest like a defiant toddler.

"W-why would I? You can walk your legs aren't broken."

"Well you've been carrying me around a lot recently so I just thought you'd do it again tonight. Ahhh fuck it whatever." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact with the brunette who was trying his hardest not to laugh.

"Aish, Yoongi-yah do you enjoy Seokjinnie lifting you up and carrying you around?" He could no longer hold it in, erupting into a fit of laughter.

Yoongi's cheeks burnt bright red, he was already a small man but he had never felt as small as he did right at this moment. Tears threatened to spill over his long lashes, he knew he was being a little dramatic but his heart was practically ripped out of his chest by his crush. Yoongi bowed his head refusing to look anywhere other than at his hands which were clasped together tightly.

"Wait, shit Yoongi I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you cry," Seokjin dropped down onto his knees and engulfed Yoongi's hands with his own. "So you do enjoy being carried by me?"

Yoongi sniffed, "Yeah. I like a lot about you Hyung, the carrying thing is one of my favourites though."

An awkward silence filled the room, Yoongi's sniffles the only sound to break the dead air. "Well uh, there is a lot I like about you too," he stroked his thumb against the back of Yoongi's hand softly and slowly. "I like your dry sense of humor, the way you screech when you're excited - that is so adorable. I like how passionate you are about music and I really like how your cheeks turn red whenever we touch each other by accident. I sorta brush up against you on purpose just to see it."

A gasp escaped Yoongi's lips, head snapping up to look into the dark chocolate eyes of his roommate. Seokjin's cheeks puffed wide as he gave Yoongi a sweet smile, his thumb continuing to draw circles over Yoongi's hands which were resting in his lap. "I think you're cute Yoongi-yah, and I'd love to kiss you. If you'd allow me to of course."

Yoongi's eyes darted to Seokjin's plump lips, inviting and glistening. He couldn't hold back any longer, throwing himself forward as he smashed their lips together, hungry and desperate. In the wild rush of lips and tongues exploring new territory their noses bumped together, deep chuckles slipping out between kisses. Yoongi's hands frantically grasped onto Seokjin's hair, pulling him down so their body's were close but it still wasn't enough, he needed to feel naked flesh against his own. Yoongi's long fingers travelled underneath Seokjin's thin cotton T-shirt and brushed against his soft stomach, over his nipples rubbing the hard nubs between his fingers and then back down his chest. He played with the elastic waist of Seokjin's shorts, dipping his hand inside, fingers grazing the wiry mound of pubic hair just above where his hands really wanted to touch, "I-is this okay Hyungie?" Yoongi whimpered, Seokjin's tongue running along the exposed skin of his neck, teeth nipping the soft skin.

"Mmmm yeah, touch Hyung Yoongi." Seokjin bit down gently his teeth scraping the skin. He attached his lips against the smaller man's neck, alternating between sucking on the warm flesh and sly little nibbles, creating deep purple bruises that contrasted beautifully against Yoongi's pale skin. While Seokjin was busy marking his neck, Yoongi pulled his cock out of the shorts and stroked sensually up and down his length, which was growing harder and stiffer in his hand. His hand glided over Seokjin's length at a quickening pace, flicking his wrists and gripping tight around the head before pulling off and pumping again. Yoongi added another hand on Seokjin's shaft and slowly twisted in opposite directions, up then down, left then right. His fingers played with the tip of his cock, pressing his thumb into the slit, stroking playfully over the head.

"Fuck your cock feels amazing Hyung," Yoongi sighed, Seokjin's cock pulsing in his grip, "C-can we fuck?"

Seokjin removed his swollen lips from Yoongi's neck with a 'pop' and took his time licking along the already fucked out man's lips, pressing their soft flesh against each other, gentle kisses that were in in opposition of the acceleration of Yoongi's heart beat. Seokjin sat between Yoongi's legs on the floor, hands roaming over the blonds thighs. When he reached Yoongi's crotch his fingers ghosted over Yoongi's hard cock visible through his sweats, he bucked his hips desperate for Seokjin's touch.

"Hyung's got you Yoongi, just sit back and relax hmmm?" He placed a sloppy wet kiss against the fleece material and helped pull them down to Yoongi's ankles. "Such a pretty cock Yoongi-yah." Seokjin's voice was smooth and sweet. His fingers grazed against Yoongi's balls, eyes flicking back up to watch Yoongi's reaction. He continued to massage his sack, pulling lightly and wiggling the weight in his hand. He rubbed his cheek along the soft skin of Yoongi's balls and then up and down his incredibly hard shaft. Tongue flicking out to leave small licks along the side, down to his balls and then further below to the sweet spot between Yoongi's balls and warm inviting hole.

Yoongi's slit was leaking precum so Seokjin lapped it up, moaning sinfully. A groaned escaped the back of Yoongi's throat when Seokjin took his balls into his mouth, sucking and kissing all over. He took his time enjoying their heat in his mouth. He stroked the blonds length while sucking the pale skin of Yoongi's inner thighs. Seokjin sat back and removed he and Yoongi's bottoms completely, throwing the pants into a small pile in the corner of the room. He stood and motioned for Yoongi to stand with him. Their lips crashed against another's once more, Yoongi standing on his tippy toes to match his Hyungs height. A knee slipped between Yoongi's thighs as the two men continued to taste and explore each others mouths.

"Shit, we need lube, uhhh, don't move Yoongi-yah! I'll be back quickly." Seokjin ran towards his bedroom leaving Yoongi standing naked from the waist down in their living room, cock red and hot. He gripped onto the base and squeezed tight, moaning at his own touch. Seokjin returned cock glistening from the lube, bouncing with every step. Yoongi gulped, Seokjin was longer than any cock his ass had taken before but god was he eager to have it inside him.

They kissed passionately while Seokjin fingered Yoongi's hole, stretching him open enough for his cock. Yoongi's mind had turned to mush, absolutely lost in the moment. It was as though Seokjin had flicked a switch in his ass to become a whimpering, whining mess. Seokjin bent his knees and using his right hand guided his cock into Yoongi's tight hole. Once inside he allowed Yoongi to get used to his size while his hands reached out to wrap around Yoongi's small waist. Without warning he lifted Yoongi, a squeak echoing in the silent room. "You are adorable Yoongi-yah, can't wait to hear more noises come from those pretty lips." Yoongi's legs wrapped around Seokjin's waist which readjusted their position, cock now deeper than before, big hands reached down to Yoongi's ass holding him in place as they walked out of the living room and into the hallway.

Yoongi held on tight, gripping onto strong shoulders as he was pushed against the wall with a thud. Seokjin's arms trembled from Yoongi’s weight so he started to pound into his ass before it was too much and he would have to let him go. Yoongi let out tiny pants and whimpers, eyelids half closed, mouth so slack drool was starting to drip from the corners. Seokjin's cock grazed over his prostate, hitting deep and hard with every thrust. "Hyung, hy-hyung ahh ah so good." His hands roamed over Seokjin's back leaving red and pink marks underneath the thin material of his shirt. His cock was trapped between their bodies, friction from their movements driving him insane.

Sweat dripped down Seokjin's face, his arms close to giving out. This was more intense than any workout his personal trainer at the gym had given him. He slammed his cock into Yoongi repeatedly eager to cum inside his ass. Yoongi's whimpers in his ear pushed Seokjin to his peak and exploded his white hot cum into Yoongi's warm hole.

They stood still while Seokjin caught his breath, Yoongi hanging onto his neck for dear life, almost as though the floor was lava. "Hyungie make me come, pleaseeeee I'm so close." Yoongi whined, nipping at Seokjin's lips then pouting against the plush flesh. He would rather be dead than admit it, but Seokjin was right - he was a bit of a drama queen. "I'll have to put you down though, I think my arms are about to fall off." Seokjin chuckled as Yoongi detached his legs from around the brunette's waist and placed them on the floor.

Seokjin reached down and gripped tight onto Yoongi's aching cock, moving his hand in a steady rhythm. Their foreheads touched, breathing in each others air, hushed pants and whimpers shared between the pair as they kiss messily, lips grazing chins and teeth clinking. Yoongi bucked into Seokjin's grip, incredibly close to his high. Seokjin's cum escaping slowly out of his hole and running down his creamy white thighs and the hand around his cock pushed Yoongi to his release, "Ah-ah Hyung don't stop, ahh I'm going to come, shit ahh." His body tensed as he came harder than ever before, Seokjin barely moving his hand as his cock throbbed and pulsated.

"Hyung, you have no idea how long I've wanted this to happen." Yoongi sighed, wrapping his hands around Seokjin's neck, fingers crawling their way up to thread through short dark hair. "I've wanted to do that since the day I moved in," Seokjin whispered in reply, ears turning crimson, "Come on let's get cleaned up and then cuddle."

-----

The pair made their way into Seokjin's bed, snuggled between a mess of cushions and soft toys, their limbs a tangled mess as impatient hands explored naked skin. They laughed as revelations of their feelings for each other were finally said out loud, cheeks tight and sore from smiling so hard. "Seokjin-hyung can we do this more often?" Yoongi's eyes avoided the naked man beside him focusing on the window pane instead. "Well I would hope so since I want to make your my boyfriend Yoongi-yah." Fingers caught hold of Yoongi's chin as his face was guided towards Seokjin's, a shy kiss planted on his lips. "Yes Hyung, fuck yes I'll be your boyfriend."

The roommates turned lovers drifted off to sleep that night with satisfied smiles on their faces, excited for what the future would hold for them both.

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 10

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - allusions to sex, slow burn and slight angst.

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER TEN - NEXT

You hadn't heard Maxwell's faint whisper when he had gotten into the car. You had, however, acknowledged Jeeves brief nod of affirmation when Maxwell sank bank into his seat and clicked his seat belt in place before taking hold of your hand and pressing gentle, comforting kisses along your knuckles. Jeeves had taken the long way back to the penthouse, or so you assumed. There were plenty of detours, and pretty soon you realised he was actually driving you away from the bustling city. Pearly white snow lapped the landscape around you as he drove down the long road, framed by tall bare trees.

"We're leaving the city?" you asked Maxwell, leaning your head into his shoulder. "I thought we were going home."

"We are." Maxwell replied and you furrowed your eyebrows in bewilderment, but opted not to say another word. You didn't need to. You trusted him. The rest of the journey was spent in comfortable silence, you and Max just glad to be in each other's presence once more.

Finally, Jeeves pulled up outside a huge white mansion with pillars bigger than you had ever seen before. It was magnificent, unlike anything you had ever seen before. Your hand not leaving his, Maxwell helped you out of the car and walked you to the front door, reaching into his pants pocket for the keys and unlocking it in one swift movement.

"This is- this is-" you were speechless.

"My home," Maxwell replied with a smile, carefully guiding you into the lobby. You wiped the icy water from your winter boots on the mat before following him down the hallway and into the front room. It was enormous, carpeted. A gorgeous marble fireplace and oil paintings hung up on every corner. Maxwell took a spare key from a fruit bowl and handed it to you. "And, your home. If you'd like."

"Wh- what are you proposing?" you quizzed, your eyes flicking between the silver key and Maxwell.

"I'd feel better knowing that you were here, safe. No one will harass you and you'll be way out of Tristan's reach. Although I'm inclined to believe that he'll be locked away for a very long time. I guess what I'm trying to say is…" Maxwell took a deep, nervous breath. "Move in with me?"

"Here?" your eyes were comically wide in disbelief.

"I understand if you don't like the idea. If you think it's too soon…"

You swung your arms around Maxwell and hugged him tight, burying your face into the warmth of his chest. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you back. "Yes." you mumbled happily, trying your hardest to hold back tears.

Maxwell spent a good hour giving you a grand tour of the house, and you were enamoured with the sight of every single room. Maxwell loved seeing how awestruck you were. This was all completely normal to him, but you helped him recognise how privileged he was to have such luxury. Maxwell took both of your hands when you had reached the final room of the house, his bedroom. "I know I told you I don't share a bed with… with…" you raised an eyebrow. "You know," he shrugged nervously and you nodded your head understandingly. "But I- I just think it might be nice if…"

You smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek before scowering around and checking out your beautiful bedroom which you shared with Maxwell Lord.

"I can't wait to get settled in." You admitted, your eyes sparkling.

"There is something I have to tell you…" Maxwell frowned and you looked at him with concern. Was this it? Was he finally going to admit his feelings? You had to say it back.

"Me too." you nodded confidently. "But, you first." You said with a small smile and Maxwell took a deep breath.

"I have a business trip and… I'll be out of town for the week leading up until Christmas. I leave tomorrow." Your heart sank. That was not what you were expecting at all. "But if you want me to stay… I can postpone until January. I mean, it'll be hard but- you've been through a lot and. If there's anything you need…"

"Oh," you couldn't help but reply, your brain desperately fumbling to collect the right words. "No, that's okay. I understand." you smiled weakly. You knew how much Maxwell valued his business, and that was okay. You just thought he was going to at least mention his drunken revelation from the previous night.

"I'm glad," Maxwell responded, and there was a short silence. "Uh- do you have plans for Christmas?" Maxwell asked and you shook your head. "Because, I don't really do anything on Christmas but I wouldn't want you to be alone. So maybe…"

You smiled. "You don't do anything on Christmas?" you asked curiously. Maxwell took your hand and pulled you down onto the bed.

"Uh, no. My dad loved Christmas. When I was a kid we'd do all kinds of cool stuff but after he passed… it just wasn't the same. My mother didn't make an effort. Sometimes she'd even leave me with the nanny while she travelled to New York to be with her friends." Maxwell explained, and you appreciated the fact he had most likely never revealed so much information to anyone before.

"That's awful, I'm so sorry." you whispered, leaning into his lap.

"Part of me doesn't want to leave you," Maxwell admitted. "Tomorrow- I mean… but it's Simon Stagg from Stagg Industries. Shit, if I don't go I could lose investment."

"It's okay," you reassured Max who simply just sighed. "I'll miss you."

You felt nervous. It was the first time you had been with Maxwell in such close proximity since realising your true feelings for him. And Max felt the same.

He placed his big hand on your face and ran his finger over your lower lip. "Well, let's make tonight count." he said, his voice low and husky as he leaned in and pressed a passionate kiss into you.

***

You were the first to wake up in the morning as the golden sunlight seeped through your curtains and highlighted your body. It didn't take long for you to realise that you were wrapped in Maxwell's arms, your head buried into his chest as you recalled the amazing night you had before. He was still asleep, light snores escaping his lips and you felt comfort in hearing his heartbeat. You felt safe, like you could live in the moment forever. You also realised this was the first time you had shared a bed with Max— slept together. It was a big deal, especially knowing how he had previously felt about such a thing.

There was one thing still praying on your mind. You and Max had yet to discuss what had been said the night of the gala. You had been desperately waiting for him to bring it up and reaffirm it. Tell you that he did in fact love you. But he hadn't. And you didn't know why. You tried to be optimistic, but it was easy to believe that maybe he wasn't bringing it up because he just didn't feel the same way. Maybe he thought he loved you, but his words were just induced by the actions of his mother, and Bruce, and a landslide consumption of alcohol.

You spent a few moments thinking about it, anxiety twisting in your stomach as you shuffled around uncomfortably. You felt like you had to get out of Max's confined grip; you felt like you couldn't breathe. Max mumbled something incoherent as you broke free and rolled out of bed, rubbing your eyes and grabbing Max's robe to cover your naked body.

"Good morning," he mumbled groggily, adjusting his vision to focus on you. You paced around backwards and forwards by the foot of the bed. "Are you okay?" he quizzed, sensing your stress.

You wanted to say it— you wanted to confront him. Your mouth opened but before you could speak, Kenneth came running in. "Sir, your carpool to the airport is waiting outside."

"Airport?" you raised an eyebrow. "Max, where is the business meeting?"

Max sighed, rubbing his head. "Uh, London," he replied quietly and your eyes went comically wide.

"London?!" you repeated, your voice a little too high and a little too loud. When Max said he was going out of town, you thought he meant a different state at furthest… not a different continent!

"I- I will call you from the hotel every night," Max promised, sitting up and pressing his hands together. "I'll be home for Christmas. And you'll be safe here." Max cleared his throat and turned to Kenneth. "Uh, Ken, do you think we could get a little privacy?" Max requested and Kenneth nodded his head before leaving the room.

Max crawled out of bed and sat you down. "I don't have to go. Just say the words and I won't go." he told you quietly.

"I don't want to be the person who gets between you and your work," you replied sadly. "I'll be okay. Just- I'll miss you."

Max nodded understandingly, taking his wallet from the nightstand and pulling out one of the many Black Gold Cooperative business credit cards he owned. He placed it in your hands. "Remember darling, you want for nothing."

You appreciated the gesture, but the feeling of his credit card in your hand made you feel sick to your stomach. It reminded you that you were just his sugar baby. Nothing more. And as you watched Maxwell leave for his last minute business trip, you realised you might never be anything more.

Taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!)

Sugar and Spice: @100layersofdaddyissues @mrschiltoncat @honeymandos @thisisthe-wayson @this-cat-is-dea @blonde2bomshell @maiyaaaa0130 @autumnleaves1991-blog @justanotherblonde23 @softly-sad @laaadygisbooornex3 @kaelyn-lobrutto24

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #ww84 #wonder woman 1984

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

the worst case scenario part 4

Finally! Sorry it took so so long I’ve just been mad busy! I’m really not sure how much I like this, but deff this is the second last part (if people still want another) so not much more to endure and suffer through if your stuck in it ahah x

tomhollandxreader

Warnings [please check before reading!!] : mentions of death / hospitals and ICUs / bit of lack of childhood love (have no idea how to phrase that rn wow)

Tom had silently cried again when saying goodnight to Y/n for the evening. Harrison hadn’t a clue what to do, except stand back helplessly and watch, giving his friend a bit of space - but at the same time not letting him go it alone. It took a painfully long time for Tom to collect himself before he could straighten up and turn toward Haz.

“You sure you don’t mind staying with her?” Harrison nodded pitifully at Tom’s glassy eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed downwards.

“I’ll stay till 10, I got her”

“I owe you bro” Mumbling, Tom launched himself to wrap his arms round his taller mate - squeezing extra hard because that was a way of distracting him from the emotions still threatening to overtake him.

“Nah I’m not doing this for you div…. I love her too ya know?” That made Tom scoff laugh a little, nodding his head as he leant away.

“Yeh she…she has that effect. Just-“ Tom momentarily looked back at the bed, watching the ventilator pump air to mechanically inflate your lungs. “Just call me if anything happens, please promise me.”

“You already know I will…. but- and I know this is hard for you- but you have to promise me you’ll give the baby a chance?” Tom gulped at the mention, looking away at the blue curtains for a minute, his jaw clenching. “Come on Tom just give her a feed or something… you know it’s what Y/n would want.“

“Can we not speak about this in front of her please?” Tom's voice was short and teeth were gritted as he gestured at his unconscious fiancé, giving the clear impression to H that it wasn’t really a question. The nurse pretended to busy herself monitoring all Y/n’s readings, feeling incredibly awkward. She was the one who had mentioned to Tom that Y/n might be able to hear, at the time meaning to be a comforting and possibly hopeful gesture, now she was deeply regretting it. This wasn’t the first uncomfortable situation she’d been in, working 1 on 1 with patients in ICU meant you were automatically privy to some of the deepest conversations between patients and relatives - though this was the first time it was a celeb too, especially one who valued his privacy so much. It was more than obvious Tom wasn’t uncomfortable just because his fiancé might be conscious enough to hear.

“No Tom I…” Harrison lost control. He snapped “No not at all! Because I know she’d want me to give you a good bloody shake! I get you haven’t landed on a name yet but at least see your daughter! I bloody hope Y/n hears this… if that’s what it takes for you to realise that, to be honest she’d be heartbroken and betrayed that you haven’t been loving your baby!”

Silence, except for the beeping and whirring of the various machines.

And the silence stayed for a painfully long time - Tom and Harrison holding each other in intense eye contact, whilst the nurse bit her lip in the corner. Harrisons breathing was slightly ragged from the whisper-shouted words that he’d let slip out. The atmosphere was tense, the nurse was inwardly preparing calling for help if and when Tom ultimately started throwing fists at his friend.

It took literal minutes for Harrison to concede, his friend's dark eyes painfully boring into his skull. Again he hadn’t meant to go off like that, he really didn't want to hurt his friend who was literally going through hell and back. Now wasn’t the time for tough love really , and Harrison instantly felt an insurmountable level of guilt.

“I-I didn-“

“-her names Aurora.”

“No Tom I’m sorry I really didn-“

“Her name is Aurora. Aurora Christina Mary Holland.” Tom wasn’t joking. He was so deadly and sincerely serious. Harrison had no trouble believing this, believing that Tom had been ruminating all day on this - just by the look of his brown eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” The blonde almost was gasping, inwardly repeating the name as a chant inside his head, correlating it to the memories of earlier that day when he was cradling the girl. There was no doubt about it- Aurora was an Aurora, it suited her perfectly. Yes, it wasn’t typical but it was beautiful. “What’s it mean?” He only asked because nobody picked a name without looking into it and Harrison knew that the couple had yet to name the little girl when she was first born as they were still torn between a few carefully considered options.

“Dawn like sunrise I think and-and, you know… the auroras that me and Y/n saw in Iceland the night I…. The night I proposed.”

The word held an awful lot of emotion for Tom. Y/n had always been one of those people - the ‘look up’ type or the ‘smell the roses’. Underneath her sarcasm and wit, she was one of the purest people, in the way that all she needed was the little things in life. It was a ball ache to Tom sometimes but Y/n always would drag him out of bed at stupid o’clock in the morning on a beautiful day to see the sunrise. He’d moan and groan all the way, only to grow silent when he gazed deeply at the sunrise sparkling her eye as she peered out at the horizon.

Of course, the aurora borealis was important too. You can probably already guessed; Y/n loved the night sky and stars too. She also loved the snow, the winter, the cosy log fires, the walks spent launching the freezing powder at Tom’s face - only to get it returned twice as bad. So when Tom was ready and oh so certain he would spend the rest of his life with her, a trip to Iceland seemed a pretty good opportunity to do it. No expense was spared on their little cabin in the woods, wrapped in cosy blankets staring up at the sky through the transparent roof that was the reason this cabin was so incredibly expensive. They’d spent the evening after they’d got back from exploring the frozen forest wrapped in the thick white duvet, chatting pure rubbish while cradling a luxurious hot chocolate, complete with marshmallows and whipped cream. Then these almost otherworldly green and blue ribbons grabbed their attention, dancing and waving across the deep midnight sky. Whilst she was transfixed, hair billowing round her on the pillow while staring upwards - that was when Tom leaned over, pulling the little black box out of the bedside table.

And then there was the new connotation to the word. The new situation that had him so incredibly hesitant to label her just yet. If Aurora meant a new dawn and meant life without Y/n he didn’t want it. More than that, he refused. No matter how impossible it was, Tom refused to think about life without her. It just wasn’t an option. It couldn’t happen.

Yet without much control over his own mouth, when Harrison had asked, it had just slipped out. He knew it had to be her name. But the fact he’d spoken it… that was terrifying.

“Well go see Aurora Tom… please.” This time they’d swapped, Tom was stoney faced and Harrison knew he was about to cry, which really Tom didn’t need to witness. What he needed to do was get him with his daughter. So again, for now, Harrison's emotions would wait.

And with only a small nod of parting, off Tom walked. The man left in the bay released a breath he didn’t know he was holding before turning and all but collapsing into the armchair next to Y/n. Unsurprisingly, this still was too much to process and shut his eyes, squeezing the bridge between the nose as he tried to slow down all the blurring thoughts in his mind - simultaneously trying to bring each one into focus and shock … that wasn’t very easy.

It was in fact at least two and a half hours he sat there, the white noise of the ward whirring dully in Harrison's head while he spent the time just… thinking. He looked asleep, eyes closed and slumped in the chair but he was painfully awake. All the remaining energy that dwindled in him from before this whole nightmare had started was spent trying to organise his thoughts; process all the medical explanations and jargon he’d heard; everything he’d seen, all the wires and tube; the advice on how to feed a baby with a bottle.

That was until a voice got progressively louder from the background crackle, slowly forming into intelligible words.

“Sir… Sir?” Blinking forcefully Harrison's eyes lazily focused on the nurse that had been stationed next to Y/n for certainly as long as he had been here, her black hair pulled tightly into a low bun and kind eyes smiling at him. “Sorry for waking you.”

“No no I was just ehrmm… just thinking.” She nodded with a gentle smile that kind of suggested she didn’t believe him but relented all the same.

“It’s just getting late and I thought you’d like an update before I clock off for the evening?” Nodding frantically, Harrison’s eye quickly shot over to Y/n - just to check she was still there.

“Okay well it all seems really positive actually. The doctors were in just before…” Alright, so maybe H had fallen a little bit asleep because he definitely didn’t know that the doctor had been in. “… they’ve withdrawn the sedation and her GCS has started to improve slightly, which basically is a measure of how unconscious a person is.”

“She’s waking up?” Haz was now bolt upright in the chair, looking between the nurse and the still apparently unconscious women lying in the bed.

“Very slowly… but it is looking good, maybe, the doctors are keen to see her condition tomorrow. I thought you might like to help me do her last GCS check of the evening?”

Just maybe the nurse had already taken these set of observations before she’d stirred Harrison but it was a nice way to demonstrate improvements that couldn’t really be seen to a patient's relative - who couldn’t interpret results like qualified health care professionals could. Hopefully, Y/n’s response would be the same as before and then maybe Harrison could report back to the heartbroken fiancé that maybe things weren’t so bad. Standing in front of Harrison, the state of him was more than evident and she had a sneaking suspicion Tom would be worse. Instantaneously then, Harrison nodded vigorously; jumping out his chair with sprite that even he didn’t know he had.

“Okay so in GCS we test eye responses, verbal responses and the motor - so movement…” The lady talked through it all to Haz who listened intently, nodding his head every so often. She then went through the process of first asking Y/n to open her eyes - nothing. Then applying light pressure to her forehead, still Y/n lay still. She then moved on to trying to rouse her with words, getting Harrison to join in but still receiving nothing back. It was starting to feel a bit hopeless to Harrison, yet he still entertained the lady, going through all her steps.

“Okay so now we test movement so first hold her hand and ask her to squeeze it.” Following her directions precisely Harrison tried, still receiving absolutely no response. “Okay so now we add stimuli, trying squeezing between her shoulder and neck, like your pinching her just not too hard.”

Hesitantly Harrison reached up to her shoulder adding a small pressure between his thumb and first and second finger. Again nothing happened but the nurse encouraged him to go a bit harder - he was being light as he just didn't want to hurt her. With a nod and a small mumble of “cmon Y/n/n” he added strength. It took a moment or two but then sure as Harrison standing there himself, Y/n’s opposite right arm limply twitched upwards - making a small almost pathetic, yet still very clear attempt to remove the pressure on her shoulder.

Looking up at the nurse pleadingly Harrison received a confirmatory nod back at him - communicating the fact that this was indeed progress. In fact, just seeing Y/n not completely limp and almost vegetative - made his adrenalin soar.

“It’s baby steps but in the right direction okay?”

Letting out a breathy and relieved laugh Harrison nodded jerkily, wiping his cheek on his shoulder just because there might’ve just been a tear or two there.

/////////////////////////

For Tom forcing himself to leave the ICU was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Why he had ever agreed with his mother was so ridiculously beyond on him, yet he felt he had somewhat lost his choice thanks to his well meaning best mate forcing him down the children’s floor. It wasn’t that he hated Aurora, physically that was an impossibility. And yet he hated what she’d done to Y/n, he hated that he was alone in this, he hated the whole situation. Which ultimately was his fault 9 months ago- which just made him hate himself even more.

Also in some weird and convoluted way, he felt as though he was betraying Y/n by seeing their baby. And that was exactly why… it was their baby. She’d been so excited, so so over the moon when those two lines appeared on the stick - it was cruelly unfair that he was physically capable to see her and Y/n was paralysed in an unconscious state.

Again his body seemed to be on autopilot, Tom was confused as to how he knew where he needed to go - having skilfully avoided the children’s ward for as long as possible. It was like a homing instinct, as much as he consciously was almost terrified to see her - he still appeared to need her near him. Seeing his parents in the hallway, Nikki cradling the little bundle wrapped in blankets, both of them making small talk to the nurse opposite. It was his dad who noticed him first, looking over the cautious look in his eyes and the way his fingers clutched nervously at the bottom of his hoodie.

“How is she?”

“The same I guess… she okay?” He nodded toward the little baby, Nikki looking up excitedly.

“She’s beautiful… a little bit stressed out but…” Nikki referred to her slight fussing, which was clearly far from full blown scream, more like tired and muted groans.She didn't really realise her poor choice of words till her son mumbled under his breath.

“Not the only one.”

Before she could apologise and backtrack, the same nurse who had been so kind to Harrison approached them all.

“Ah… Mr Holland right?” He nodded passively, receiving yet another sympathetic smile back. So many of them had been chucked about today, each one becoming less and less helpful and more and more infuriating. Though Tom was not about to fly off the handle since in all honesty, he was too drained for that. “ I just need to get you to sign some paperwork in private with me before we can formally discharge baby Holland. Would you mind bringing her in here?”

Almost even before finishing the statement she had already disappeared through a door into another hospital room, as if demanding him to follow immediately in order to comply with her busy schedule. Still stood a little dazzled, Tom watched the door swing shut while his brows furrowed, until eventually turning back to his mum. Aurora’s groans and general discontent had somewhat escalated during the small interaction with the nurse lady, her immature lungs producing an impressive level of volume. Nikki was doing the best she could, bouncing the little bundle up and down though it had little effect.

So wordlessly and as if in slow motion, Tom took the two steps necessary to be inches away from his mum - now able to completely see Aurora’s distressed face scrunching up with each sharp inhalation. He didn’t want to but Harrison had betrayed him by telling Y/n; the nurse wanted her in the side room; and he did…. He did want to. Wanted to have her pure and soft skin nested into his chest not Nikki’s; wanted to be her safety and her comfort; wanted to do Y/n proud.

In silence, Tom scooped the girl out his mum's grip, both Dom and Nikki watching his with cautious and shocked eyes - as Tom kept his gaze completely on the little thing. Then, he whisked the two of them into the room, away from the prying eyes (even if they were his own parents and Aurora’s grandparents).

As soon as he walked in the nurse pressed her mouth shut, sensing the need to be an invisible entity for a short while. Dom and Nikki had expressed their concerns about Tom’s feeling toward the baby girl before he’d arrived on the ward. She was acutely aware this was the first time he’d held his child in the last 18 hours.

Tom sat down, the girl silent now as she blinked open heavy eyes in confusion, probably because she recognised these arms but couldn’t place where. That was the first time Tom had seen his daughters eyes and all he saw was Y/n. Her Y/e/c eyes with the little darker flick in the bottom half of each iris. Aurora was his little piece of Y/n, which in that moment Tom realised was perhaps what he needed all day. Tears were tracking steadily down his cheeks while Tom used the back of his first finger to gently stroke up and down Aurora’s little chin- enjoying the way she leant into the action, uncoordinated movements of her head wiggling herself within the crook of his elbow.

The two of them and then the nurse opposite just sat quietly for five or so minutes, till eventually - lulled by her Dad’s regular stroking action, deep breaths and scent- Aurora let her eyes close again.

“She looks very happy with you Dad.” The nurse thought now was the safest time to speak, voice low, then taking the time to wait for Tom to respond. When eventually he did, it didn’t really fit the conversation but it was all Tom wanted to - and could- say in that moment.

“She’s just like her mum.”

The two then went through all the various forms Tom had to sign, all of which he did carefully so as not to disturb the little girl in his arms. It didn't take long before the nurse woman was ushering him out back into the hallway, where his parents were waiting anxiously for him. Dom saw the tear tracks Tom hadn’t bothered to wipe away, putting two and two together to realise maybe he’d come to his senses. So with the question of are you ready to go, Dom was more than delighted by the response he received. It wasn’t actually directed at him, more a breathy rhetorical question the sleeping child securely nestled into her dad’s toned arms.

“Let’s get you home Aurora.”

Because like it or not; no matter what the outcome was with Y/n there was doubt that this was a new start. A new dawn. It was terrifying, stressful and hard but in the same way you can’t fight the coming sunrise; Tom knew he couldn’t fight this event. It was happening, dawn was breaking and it was Aurora, him and Y/n. In whatever way fate chose it to be. A new ‘dawn’.

Aurora.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #tom holland angst #Tom Holland angst

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pxssyliquor · 3 years

Text

Bridal Worries

A few days go @esmeshardwoodfloors wrote THIS post about Esme and Bella and I just had to make an oneshot out of it, I hope it’s ok! I’m not sure what exactly possessed me to write this, but I hope it’s nice. We need some more Cullen girls moments.

Bella stood in front of the Cullen mansion with her hands in her pockets. A bit anxious to come inside, she glared over the enormous house, hidden in the woods like a medieval castle. All the lights were off, and if Bella didn't know who lived there, she'd think all family members were sleeping. It was the middle of the night, to be fair, but Bella couldn't force herself to sleep and needed to talk with somebody. Charlie would be the obvious choice, but he was long asleep. And even if he wasn't, Bella would rather drown than ask him the questions she had, so she wore a hoodie over her pajamas and came to the one place where no one ever slept.

Bella sighed, hesitant to come inside. She knew she's always welcomed here, but she'd never actually came there without Edward. She never came intending to spend time alone with his family, and the thought of it made her nervous, but at the same time, she felt that if she doesn't voice her worries to anybody soon, she'd combust. Suddenly, she realized that she'd like to see Esme.

Bella hadn't talked with Esme one on one many times, but she had a feeling that only she would listen to her questions without any mockery. Esme, although being only eight years older than Bella, felt like her own mother to her. The difference, however, was that Esme was way warmer than Renee, Bella realized. There were things she would be too embarrassed to talk about with Renee, things too private or too serious, and she felt no such barrier with Esme. She wondered why that was. There was something about Esme that felt very welcoming, very sympathetic - was it her gentle way of being, or the fact that she willingly took five teenagers under her roof and treated them like their own, Bella wasn't sure. She knew, however, that Esme would never mock her worries.

Edward was hunting with his brothers, and Bella assumed that Carlisle went with them. So there were only women in the house. That thought gave Bella the confidence to walk over to the front doors.

She didn't get to knock on the doors before they opened, and Rosalie stood in them, with her eyebrows risen and arms crossed on her chest.

"Bella," she said with surprise in her voice, the reluctance she once felt towards Bella almost gone.

"I hope I'm not interrupting?" Bella replied quietly. She always felt overwhelmed by Rosalie, and even though their relationship improved recently, the blonde vampire still made her uncomfortable. Bella wasn't even sure what exactly Rosalie had that made her nervous, but it was probably a combination of her impeccable perfection and the way she felt about her. They made it impossible for Bella to relax while Rosalie was around.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "You actually are, I was just about to go to sleep."

Bella chuckled, although she wasn't sure she was supposed to. Rosalie's sarcasm often left her confused, and she couldn't tell when she was joking and when she was serious.

"Come on in," Rose let Bella inside the house and switched the lights on. "Have you come to tell us that you're not marrying my brother after all?"

"Yes, I changed my mind," Bella joked. "I realized that marriage terrifies me more than vampirism. Call the whole thing off."

Rosalie smirked. "Fine by me, but Alice might have some objections."

They went into the living room, already prepared to host the wedding tomorrow. All the beautiful furniture was gone. The Cullens moved it out to create a big, open space, with only Edward's shining piano still proudly taking its place in the corner. It made Bella gasp out. Instantly, everything seemed more real. Only seeing the white flowers strategically placed around the living room, the ribbons and garlands of tiny lights hung around the windows, it finally hit Bella that she's getting married tomorrow. Her hands trembled again, and she hid them in her long sleeves, desperate to seem tough and ready. She didn’t want Rose to feel how terrified she really was.

Rosalie watched her expectantly, her arms still crossed at her chest.

"Bella, I don't mean to be rude," she said softly. "But is there any particular reason for your visit?"

"I was hoping to talk with Esme."

A shadow of surprise glimmered across Rosalie's beautiful face, but she quickly got rid of it and nodded.

"She's in their bedroom," she replied. "Do you know the way, or should I show you?"

"I know the way."

Bella had never been in Carlisle and Esme's room before. She passed it many times, but the doors were always locked, and so it was this time. Coming inside without knocking felt incredibly inappropriate, but before her fist hit the wooden doors, she heard Esme's voice inviting her in.

The bedroom was exactly how she imagined it to be. Just as the rest of the house, the walls were white, with wooden paneling on one of them and big windows overlooking the woods and sky. The room smelled of books and fresh flowers, and every paper, every pillow knew its place. The furniture was very tasteful, dark and mahogany, and made the room like an elegant hotel - only that hotels never felt this domestic. Heavy, velvet curtains were open to show the starry sky. The only messy part of the chamber was Esme herself; she placed her easel in front of the windows and painted on an enormous canvas, with paint on her apron and fingers. Judging by the details on the piece, it was almost done.

"I'm so sorry I didn't come downstairs to welcome you before, that’s very rude of me," Esme said, tracing the brush along her painting. "But you see, the sky today is just beautiful, I needed to capture it before it changes. Tomorrow is a big day, and painting always eases my nerves."

"No need to apologize," Bella replied and stood behind Esme, glaring at her unfinished work. "It's beautiful. Edward said you paint, but I think he diminished your abilities."

"You're too kind," Esme replied with a smile and wiped her fingers onto the apron. She looked lovely, very domestic, truly the heart of the house. Bella never saw her like this, and it almost felt like invading her privacy to watch her in her element, with messy hair and paint on her clothes, still beautiful, but a bit more human. If anything, it made her seem more real.

"Do you want something to drink, love? Maybe some tea? You seem cold."

"I'm fine, thank you," Bella replied, only then realizing that she'd been hiding her hands in her long sleeves.

Esme sat on the swivel chair, leather and brown, and crossed her legs elegantly. The moonlight fell inside the room and her skin shined with faint, sparkling diamonds. Bella saw it before on Edward, of course, but she couldn't draw her eyes away.

Esme didn't speak for a solid minute. She watched Bella with a smile on her face until it became quite obvious she's waiting for her to start. Bella sat on the bed, a bit hesitantly, and tucked her hair behind her ears.

Bella was never sure how she should talk to Esme - whether she ought to treat her like a mother, or like a friend. Esme had an aura of wisdom and grace around her, but after all, she was still only twenty-six years old. The rest of the family would call her their mom sometimes, but it didn't feel comfortable to Bella. She doubted if it ever would.

"I wanted to talk with you," she started a bit bashfully. She never opened up to Renee about certain things and wasn't sure where to begin, but Esme's calm, golden eyes were glued onto her, and Bella felt she has her full attention.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you a few questions, but they're rather private."

"You can talk to me about anything," Esme smiled at her reassuringly; she truly felt so. "You seem so nervous, Bella. Is it about the wedding?"

"Mostly."

"The night before ours I was so stressed, Edward had to talk me down for hours. He would later joke that I nearly ran away," Esme confessed, a faint smile on her lips as if the remembering itself amused her a bit. Bella raised her eyebrows in surprise. She always looked up to Esme and Carlisle's relationship; she knew no bond stronger or more admirable than the love they shared. It felt odd, but very comforting to realize that they were once newlyweds, too, and faced the same challenges she and Edward stood before.

"Really?"

"Of course!" Esme shrugged. "I don't think those things change. If you asked Alice or Rose, they'd tell you the same. It's perfectly normal to be stressed."

A veil of silence fell between them for a second, before Esme cleared her throat.

"Although I have a feeling there's something else troubling you."

"There is," Bella sat more comfortably, with her legs crossed, and looked out of the windows. She wasn't the best at speaking about emotions. Her mother never taught her how to do it, and Charlie was happiest not speaking about them at all, so opening up to Esme felt new. New, but not necessarily scary. Bella found it easier if she wasn't looking at her, so she glued her sight onto the stars. "The honeymoon scares me more than the wedding itself."

Esme let out a sigh. To say she expected it would be an exaggeration, but it didn't surprise her that Bella would need guidance, and it made Esme smile that she chose her to confide in. Bella looked tiny and insecure sitting on the bed with her knees drawn to her chest. She truly looked her age then, and Esme almost ached to hug her, but she wanted to ease her nerves first.

She tried to dig deep into her memory and remember how she felt that first time, and for a second, she relived it all over again - the fear, the nerves, the excitement, all to be rewarded with bliss and love. She hoped Bella would have memories to cherish, too.

"What would you want to know, Bella?"

"Everything," she replied, still looking at the stars. "Everything I should know. I've never-" Bella started, but words got lost on their way out of her throat. "Never with a human, and a vampire... I suppose it's different."

"Well, yes, it is," Esme tried to put her words together with much consideration. "It is way more intense."

"What should I expect?" Bella whispered, feeling Esme's amber eyes on her, but she didn't turn her head.

"Oh, it's an absolutely divine feeling," Esme replied softly and placed her hands on her knees. Bella felt as if she was talking with her older sister, not Edward's mother. She should be more embarrassed, but she wasn't. "It truly bonds you for the first time, body and soul. It's very powerful, sweetheart, even more to us than to humans."

"Will it hurt?"

"I'm sure Edward will not act hastily, but I'm afraid it might be a little painful to you. In the beginning, at least. Your human body is very fragile compared to ours."

Bella looked at her with her lower lip bitten. She surmised all the thigs Esme had just told her, but it felt comforting to hear them said out loud. The way Esme spoke, calmly, softly, it all made Bella feel safe. "Is it different from... intercourse with another human?"

"Very different," Esme nodded seriously. "My experiences as a human weren't the best, as I'm sure you know, and I don't know how is it between one of us and a human, but I can only imagine it's the most heavenly. Sex between normal people is... well... when you have a comparison, it's boring."

Bella let out a chuckle when Esme blinked at her, trying her best to make her more comfortable, and it was working. Bella's tense body loosened up a bit and she finally dragged her eyes onto Esme.

"What if I'm not any good at it?" she whispered, and Esme smiled at her warmly, reassuringly. Her smile made Bella believe everything would be alright. She knew Jasper was the one to control emotions, but there was something about Esme's loving presence, about her maternal ways of being and bright eyes that Bella felt more relaxed, and she was so happy she opened up to her.

"Oh, love, nobody's good at it at the beginning," Esme replied. "But communication is the key. I know Edward is not the one to open up easily but talk to him."

"I'm afraid we're similar this way."

"You're doing wonderful tonight," she smiled. "You need to talk about it to get better at it. Voice what you like and what you don't, make Edward do the same. You have to be truly honest with each other for it to work."

Bella was watching her with her eyes opened wide, invested, focused on every word, and it made Esme love her even more. Bella deserved somebody to confide in, and she was more than happy to take that role tonight.

"It scares me," Bella whispered. "The vulnerability. I want to, of course, but at the same time..."

"Remember that you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," Esme said, way more seriously. "No pressure, love. I know it seems very scary. It's very rewarding, but it can be overwhelming."

Bella just nodded, but Esme was still piercing her with her caring eyes.

"Is Edward pressuring you into something?"

"No, God, no," Bella shook her head so lively, she heard a quiet crack in her neck. "Don't worry about... it. But he said he talked about those things with Carlisle, and I wanted to get some insight, too."

"Did he?" Esme chuckled. "I didn't know that. I wonder what Carlisle told him."

"What you told me, basically," Bella shrugged softly and yawned loudly, making Esme smirk. She suddenly felt very sleepy. Talking with Esme eased her nerves a bit, and she felt she could fall asleep peacefully now.

"I'm so glad you came to me, Bella. It's really my pleasure to help you with anything you need."

"Thank you."

"Did I help a bit?"

"You did," Bella replied, standing up from the bed and smiling at her. "You really did. Thank you for listening to me. I didn't know who to talk to about it. Alice probably wouldn't help at all, and Edward... you know."

"Oh, I do," Esme laughed and stood up to take Bella into a long, tight embrace. Bella returned it thankfully; although Esme’s skin was cold as ice, the hug seemed warmer than any other. Bella yawned again, and Esme laid a kiss onto her forehead.

"You should really go to sleep, love," she said. "Tomorrow is a big day. You can sleep in Edward's room if you don't feel like driving."

"No, no, I have to go back," Bella mumbled, her arms still wrapped around Esme. "Charlie isn't a fan of my night escapades. I should be home in the morning. One last time."

She left the Cullen house feeling as if an enormous weight had been pulled off her chest. As she was driving home, she made a mental note to always come to Esme with her future worries.

other fics / have a request?

#i dont know what this is either but i needed this #it healed me actually #bella never had a good healthy relationship with renee and she SHOULD have one with esme #she deserves it #she deserves someone older and more experienced to guide her and give her advice i will die on that bella x esme hill #weronika writes #twilight #fanfiction #esme cullen #bella swan #twilight renaissance #anyway i hope its cool #inspired by a terrible talk i had with my mother #twilight fanfiction

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

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desolate (2)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut

— word count: 2.9k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou , @ladymidnightt Part one Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

A sharp tone rips you out of your dreams, your alarm screeching at the top of its lungs to make you get up. You groan, fumbling around before you find your phone to turn it off. You look at your screen through bleary eyes, annoyed that you forgot to turn off your alarm considering it’s a Saturday and you absolutely do not have to wake up at 6.30 am today.

You huff, throwing your phone further down your bed and turning over to go back to sleep. The noise startled you enough that you can still feel your heart racing, and even though you doubt you’ll be able to slip back into the dream you had, you can still take a few minutes more to just rest.

You stare at the sunlight that has started peeking through the gaps in your curtains, everything still a little hazy from the vivid dream you had. But the more you look out in your room, the more the golden eyes and black soft fur you thought was only a dream starts melting away and the day before comes rushing back.

You actually adopted a cat! Your stomach does a funny flip, excitement rushing through your veins as you quickly sit up in bed. The floor is cold as you plant your feet on the ground, and you hurry over to your closet with a grimace.

In a few weeks it’ll become too cold to have the heater off, and you already dread how high your electricity bills are going to become in the following months. But it’s either that or freezing to death, and frankly with your busy schedule, you don’t have time for that. You throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants, happy that the only thing on your agenda today is just lazing around the apartment.

You hurry to your bedroom door after tugging on some thick socks to ward off the cold, only pausing for a short second to take a deep breath before opening it. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but finding your kitty lying directly outside of your door definitely wasn’t it.

You freeze, foot caught mid-air as you stare down at the black ball of fur curled up on the floor. You carefully set your foot down again, clutching the doorframe as you slowly slide down to a crouch. He's so fluffy and cute that your legs wobble, and you have to put a hand down on the floor to keep from toppling over your cat.

You wince as the cold seeps into your fingertips, and you don’t like the thought of your kitty sleeping on it. What if he gets sick? Can cats get sick? You’re not sure, but you don’t want to find out either.

“Kitty?” You murmur, watching as one ear twitches in your direction. You reach out slowly, hand hovering over the furry body hesitantly. You want to touch him, but the band-aids along your forearm serves as a reminder of how much he didn’t like that last night.

“Kitty?” You try again, and this time, golden eyes slide open at your voice. You let out a small coo as it blinks slowly, obviously still sleepy. You figure it might be safe to touch it now that it’s awake, but the moment you fingers inch closer it hisses, golden eyes suddenly wide and alarmed before it quickly scampers under the couch again.

You sigh, pushing yourself up to get some breakfast. You desperately want to cuddle and coddle your new cat, but it’s obvious that it needs space and time, and you need to respect that. Owning pets isn’t always sunshine and butterflies and you figure it probably had a rough life on the streets before you picked it up. It was alone in a shelter, after all.

You change out the water in the bowl you put out for your cat the night before, a frown settling on your face as you realize the dry food you got from Yeonjun hasn’t been touched. You sprinkle some more kibble on just in case, hoping that the fresh bits might smell good and entice your cat to eat something.

It’s still early and you’re feeling a little too lazy to make anything, so you decide that today’s breakfast will be yesterday's leftovers. You bring your meal to the couch, placing the plate with rice and chicken on the coffee table in front of it. You hear a low grumble from underneath the couch as you take a step closer, and you decide that maybe delaying getting your feet mauled for another minute is okay as you run back to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

You don’t like the thought of being scared of your own cat, but you figure he’s probably way more scared than you are, and so you just need to suck it up for a while. You gasp as you round the corner, shocked to find your cat eating away at a chicken breast on your plate.

“Kitty!” You rush forward, scared that he’s eating something he isn’t supposed to and hoping to stop him, but your cat is back under the couch before you even reach the table. There’s an obvious gap on your plate from the missing chicken your cat brought with it under the couch, but from the sounds of it, it seems like your cat was starving.

You can hear the hurried bites from where you’re standing, and your heart aches a little at the thought of it being so hungry. Despite your better judgement, you quickly grab another breast from your plate before you can second-guess yourself. Placing it close to the edge of the couch on the floor, you snatch your fingers back just as a black paw comes out and swipes the food in.

You tentatively sit down on the couch, perching on the edge so that your legs are as far away as they can be. Your cat seems to be too busy eating to notice your presence, or maybe it just doesn’t care as long as you bring it food, but you’re nearly all the way done with your meal before you hear a soft hiss from underneath you again.

“I’m done soon kitty,” You mutter, shoving the rest of the food into your mouth before you hurry off into the kitchen with your plate. You know you still have a long way to go before your cat starts to like you, but it still feels like a small victory.

“He hates me,” You groan as you slump down in your chair, Jihyo’s bright eyes staring at your over her computer screen.

“Who? Your cat?” She tilts her head, a small frown on her face as she takes in your tired appearance. You didn’t sleep well all weekend.

You felt terrible for making your cat scared, and so you tried to steer clear of the couch as much as possible. But you also realized you needed to make your presence known if he was ever going to get used to you - so you spent the weekend feeling guilty for both staying away and staying close.

“Yeah,” You mutter as you blow a stubborn piece of hair away from your face.

“It probably just needs some time to adjust ..” She trails off, but you can see the words on the tip of her tongue forming already.

“Don’t–” You start, but Jihyo interrupts you.

“This is why you should’ve gotten a hybrid! It would never be so mean to you,” She pouts. You take a deep breath, trying to push down the annoyance that wants to bubble up and explode.

You love Jihyo and she’s one of your closest friends, but she doesn’t really share the same reality as you. She has money, and you don’t. And while it sounds trivial, it’s enough to create a rift in situations like these where she just doesn’t get it. You don’t have money for a hybrid. Period.

“Jihyo. Let it rest,” You grumble, tone serious and eyes narrowed as you stare her down. She opens her mouth, but seems to think twice and clamps it shut instead.

“Fine,” She huffs. She lets you work in peace until lunch, but you can tell she’s practically bursting with the need to say something as she tugs you inside the lunchroom. It’s empty, you two usually taking your break a little earlier than everybody else just to get some privacy when you eat and talk.

You’ve barely taken a bite of your sandwich when Jihyo sighs dramatically, eyes wide as she throws her arms out across the table.

“I know I’ve only had Sana for three days, but if something happens to her I’m going to kill everybody and then myself,” You roll your eyes, but can’t help but smile at how fond Jihyo seems to be already.

“Stop being so dramatic,” You snort. A man quietly makes his way inside the break room; you think you vaguely recognize him as being one of the IT guys in your department.

His eyes grow wide as your eyes meet, and he hurries off to the little kitchen in the corner of the room with his head hung low when you give him a small nod as a greeting. Jihyo seems obvious, too busy dreamily staring out of the window behind you as she continues.

“Sana is so cute. She’s so happy and cuddly,” She gushes, quickly bringing out her phone to show you some of the pictures she took over the weekend. You two have been texting of course, but you knew she wanted to talk about it in more detail over lunch.

“She even picked out her own collar! Look!” You see the IT guy slip out the kitchen as you take Jihyo’s phone, paying him no mind as you smile at the picture of her Pomeranian hybrid.

“Aww, how adorable,” You can’t help but grin, happy that your friend found someone she enjoys spending her time with.

“Y/N!” Jihyo suddenly exclaims, “Maybe I can bring Sana over on Friday? She’s been dying to see you again,” You mull it over for a second.

You do really want to see Sana and Jihyo, and since your cat pretty much lives under the couch you’re sure an hour or two will be fine. Sana seems to sweet and quiet that you don’t think it’ll be much of a problem even if she is a dog hybrid.

“Sure!” You agree, happy to spend some more time with your friend.

The moment you step inside your apartment after work, you’re sure you see a black tail hurry around the corner.

“I’m home!” You call out, but the silence that greets you feels heavy and uninviting, and you suddenly feel more alone than what you did before when you were actually by yourself. You quickly shed your shoes and your coat, briefly slipping into your bedroom to pull on some more comfortable clothes.

You’re hungry; the lunch you brought today definitely wasn’t enough to keep you sated until work was over. You quickly fry up some vegetables and meat, mindful to keep away from any seasoning. Your cat has made it clear it’s not eating the cat food Yeonjun gave you, and so you’ve been letting it eat some of your own food until you can get him something else.

Once you’re sure the meat has cooled down enough, you slip some on to a plate, bringing it into the living room. You’re about to place it down under the couch when you hesitate. If you keep doing this you’re sure it’s only going to get harder to get to know your cat, and that’s not what you want to happen.

So you carefully place it a little further away, so that your cat needs to take a few steps out to eat it. You hurry out to the kitchen to grab your own plate, and when you return, you find your cat halfway out from under the couch, golden eyes trained on you as he eats.

“I’ll stay over here kitty. Take your time,” You make sure to sit on the other side of the couch, giving you cat some space while still being close. You turn on the TV, getting more and more absorbed in the show as your dinner grows colder.

You eat absentmindedly, the plot too interesting to tear your eyes away from. So it comes as a surprise when you move your hand to pick up your fork, but your fingers come into contact with soft fluffy fur instead.

You eyes snap down in panic as you find your cat looking up at you with wide eyes, a piece of meat caught between its teeth. Your fingers twitch involuntarily at the feel of fur against them, and the motion seems to remind your cat suddenly as to why it doesn’t like you.

Its ears flatten against its skull, and you can practically see the murder written in his eyes before he jumps down and crawls under the couch again. You don’t realize you were even holding your breath until your lungs start burning, and you drop your outstretched hand into your lap as you gulp down air.

You stay in the living room for a little while more, ignoring the disgruntled noises coming from the floor as you finish your show.

“Night kitty,” You say as you turn off the lights, hurrying down the hallway to your room and closing the door behind you. You can still feel the brush of fur against your fingers even after you’ve gone to bed, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Even if touching him was an accident, he has still started to feel comfortable enough around you to take the risk to steal your food, and that has to count for something.

Nothing really changes between you and your black menace until Thursday evening. You have been tiptoeing around your apartment all week, apparently the cat’s mood has only soured after you accidentally touched it, and you have no idea how to make it better.

It’s grown colder outside as well, and you can only hope that your cat at least sleeps on top of the couch when you’re not there. You’ve taken to laying out some blankets on the floor, just in case. Work today was particularly exhausting, and curling up on the couch with a blanket and some mindless television watching sounds like dream come true. So that’s exactly what you do as soon as you get home and finish dinner.

You’re skipping through channels until you find something mildly interesting - a documentary on hybrids. The narrators voice is soothing, and it doesn’t take long before you start drifting off, feeling comfortable and full after your dinner. You vaguely listen as the soft-spoken voice tells you about hybrids habits, almost lulled completely to sleep before you feel the slight dip in the cushion near your feet.

You’re so far gone that you barely pay it any notice, not even when you feel the presence getting closer and closer. You’re on your back, head tilted to the side as you watch the TV through half-lidded eyes as something steps on your stomach.

The blanket you have over you is so thick you can barely feel it, but you catch a dark mass out of the corner of your eye. He thinks I’m asleep, you realize, just as you suddenly feel a weight drop down on your body.

You don’t move, afraid that you’ll scare him now that he finally seems to have gained some confidence and trust in you. Your neck is starting to cramp from the awkward position, but you refuse to move, opting to just watch him get comfortable out of the corner of your eye.

You count to two hundred in your head after the moving stops, and turn your head the slightest bit just to make some of the pain go away. Golden eyes blink open immediately, staring you down as you look back at your cat.

“Comfy?” You ask, slowly reaching your hand to see if he'll let you pet him. You feel claws digging into the fabric despite the thickness when he notices your hand, a hiss rumbling in his chest until you drop it back down.

“No touching. Got it,” You mumble, somehow feeling a little chastised. You almost feel shy having him so close, especially when your cat won’t stop looking at your face, almost as if he’s scrutinizing it. But that’s ridiculous, you decide, he’s just a cat.

Any trace of sleep is long gone by now, but you cat however, seems to be growing tired of his staring game, eyes slowly slipping closed with each breath you take. You can still see that he’s a little tense, but just the fact that he’s here, on top of you, warms your heart.

You watch him rest until you feel your own eyelids become heavy again. You know your back will kill you tomorrow if you sleep here, but you don’t want to wake up your kitty, not when you can provide him with some warmth. So, you fall asleep with a lighter heart than you have had in days, hopeful that maybe this will turn out better than you first thought.

Oh, if only you knew what you really had gotten yourself into.

- - - - Hello! Hope you enjoyed the second chapter of desolate! Next chapter will be Jihyo and Sana coming over to visit you and your kitty, which said black fluffball might not be so happy about .. Not when he’s just starting to warm up to you.

OT7 version is coming soon as well, so keep your eyes peeled for that :) Thank you all for the lovely feedback on the first chapter, it made me really excited to continue working on this! My inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! See you all soon!

#bts #bts hybrid #bts hybrid au #yoongi #cat hybrid yoongi #min yoongi #suga #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #romance #fluff #angst #hybrid!bts #desolate masterlist #jihyo #sana #yeonjun

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asa-sauce · 4 years

Text

those forgotten things

❀ haikyuu!! x (ukai’s kid!) reader

flavor: honey mustard

warnings: none!

a/n: hi, sorry for the long wait! if you're coming from my tiktok, thank you for the continued support! i don’t know who the specific love interest is going to be, so for now it’s basically the entire karasuno team x reader.

note: ukai is your adoptive father. and this takes place at very very end of season 1/very beginning of season 2. you are 16.

+ Your dad, Ukai Keishin, forgets his water bottle at the convenience store before practice. You decide to bring it to him... Big mistake.

The bell on the door announces your presence with a gentle chime, and the cool air coming from the ancient air conditioner hits your face. It's a heavenly relief from the sizzling heat, and you thank heaven for the store being so close to school.

"Hi dad! I'm home!" You call out, but no answer comes.

"Where is he?" Misaki asks, head bobbing up and out like a buoy. There's a prep in her voice now, like a child at an amusement park.

"He's probably in the back or something, I don't know." There's no one else in the store.

She sets her heavy, multi-key chained school bag next to the chair, and you notice that the normally happy face of the plush bunny keychain is smushed against the table leg, smile distorted into a frown.

She starts her jaunty browsing around the store, weaving in and out of each aisle. You do the same, not knowing what you're in the mood for, and meet her at the candies and gum.

"Seriously, Y/n, how do you not find your dad attractive?" The question catches you off guard, and you find yourself quickly scanning the front of the store for any customer that might have just walked in. Did she really just ask that?

You swivel around in a slow, dramatic way, giving her an incredulous look that just about asks that question. She looks at you with that casual—but all too serious—charm, as if she had simply asked what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.

"'Cause he's my dad." She rolls her eyes, dissatisfied with the answer, then juts her head forward just enough to add more emphasis on her next words.

"But he adopted you. You aren't blood-related."

You stare at her. She can't be completely serious, right?

You and Misaki met last year on the first day of school. Meeting her was like something out of an anime. The rambunctious airhead meets the quiet, down-to-earth girl who just can't say no to people.

She literally proclaimed your friendship to the world on that first day of school.

So this: her apparent infatuation for your dad, is very far out there, yes. Yet in retrospect, it's nothing beyond her character.

"Jeez, you're weird," you say, deciding to smile it off. You turn to grab a neon blue bag of chips from the shelf beside you. Misaki laughs, head thrown back, in a maniacal way, and disappears behind the aisle end. "Did you get your food yet?"

"Yeah." She's chosen a popsicle today, already unwrapping it while she continues to peruse the aisles more, just for fun. Her fingers drag along the underside of each plastic price tag, making a clackclackclackclackclak sound that's almost ominous.

"How much is it?" You ask, to which she tells you. You go over to the cash register and take out the appropriate change from your wallet, placing each bill and coin into the correct spaces. Even though you're a member of the family-owned store, a business is still a business, and the small ones like this especially need anything and everything they can get to thrive.

Misaki sits at the table for a few minutes, and you guess that she's waiting for your dad to come back out. She's slouched over her brightly lit cellphone screen, her thumbs continually pattering as she responds to all her messages.

It's awkward.

Even though you and Misaki have gotten pretty close since meeting each other, those uncomfortable silences still sometimes appear.

But then she begins talking about a boy she's been texting these past few weeks, mostly talking it out with herself then seeking your advice. You give simple reactions, and comment when she expects it. A simple 'he did not!' or 'ugh!' will satisfy her.

Of course it's not all that one-sided. She talks, you listen; you talk, she responds. And quite frankly, you don't mind it.

But then the silence emerges once again, until she lets out a big, audible, intentional sigh and stands up.

"Well, I gotta head home, my mom's getting fussy about something again." She shoves her phone in the side pocket of her bag, short hair whipping around as she hoists her bag over her shoulder.

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Misaki." You can feel the breath of relief beginning to grow inside your lungs as she collects her things and heads for the door.

"Yup. Tell your dad I said hello!"

"I will."

No you won't.

And with a final automated jingle of the door chime, she leaves. You wait until the white bunny keychain on her bag is no longer in view to release that breath of relief.

And then, you smile.

"Alright, dad! You can come out now!" you announce, your head tipped back towards the blue curtains. In a comical way, just the face of your father appears, with tufts of yellow hair sneaking out behind him. With his eyes wide he scans the room, side to side, searching for any trace of your friend.

"Is she gone?"

"Yeah, she is."

The rest of him appears then.

Ukai sits himself on the slanting, rickety stool behind the counter that is literally almost on its last legs, with his feet propped up. It's his way of "intimidating" all the "shitheads" that come through after school—is what he says.

You hop onto the counter, splitting open the chip bag. A puff of flavored air travels up into your nose.

"How was that English quiz today?" Ukai asks, catching a whiff as well while you pop the first chip into your mouth.

"Good. I got a 97." you reply after swallowing.

"That's my girl."

You hum in response, munching on another chip. Looking into the bag, you spot a wider, saltier chip that curls at one end. It takes up half the amount of chips, you realize as you take it. It should be a crime, you think, to fill up more than half of the bag with air.

"I'm gonna leave here a little earlier for practice tonight. A few of the boys wanted me to help them with a couple new combinations."

He swings his legs off the counter and sits up, mumbling something about wishing he had taken a nap before walking back into the house to change.

You go through the motions of unpacking your school bag, decideding to work on math first.

You spread your textbooks and papers out on the counter, an organized mess as you like to say, of calculus.

Your pencil moves rapidly across the page, the little flower charm on dangling back and forth with each squiggle.

Your dad leaves around ten minutes later, but not before giving you a quick kiss on the head. The sun is still high and proud, and has no intention to descend until an hour or more later.

It's your favorite time of day. The sun falls through the glass doors in a way that makes the entire world seem just a little more fanciful. It's usually quiet in the store, and after an entire day of constant conversations from you and those around, you can't help but yearn for these peaceful moments. It's entirely why you agreed to take over Ukai's shifts ever since he began coaching Karasuno's male volleyball team.

If anyone comes in at this hour though, they're likely to be a student from Karasuno, but in about five minutes the store's most frequent customer, Etsu, will stop by, and will no doubt be mewling for a meat bun.

You plop down on the seat behind the counter, taking a moment to your self to breathe. You tug at the base of your long ponytail, releasing your unruly hair from the confines of your hair tie. Although you aren't directly related to Ukai, over the years you've inherited parts of his look. One of those being your 'lion's mane' (as your grandmother calls it).

Ukai had adopted you when you were ten, but the six years you've known each other feel like sixteen. You don't remember much about your biological family, and for privacy reasons Ukai doesn't know any more than you do.

You have no harsh feelings towards them--no contempt or ill-wishes for leaving their own daughter. Of course, there are days when you wondered where they are, and what life might be like if they kept you.

Perhaps it is for the best, you always came to. Maybe it is meant to be this way, because at least the life you are living now with just your dad and grandparents is good. It's good—

You hear a dull chip as the lead snaps. It flies off to the side, leaving a small pencil marking etched into your paper. It's minor, but still an annoyance when deep in thought or concentration. Still, it's nothing that can't fixed with two pumps at the end of the pencil. You start over again, scribbling out the final numbers when familiar happy mewl grabs your attention. Before you can even look over, your cheeks lift into a smile.

"Hi, Etsu!"

It's a reaction that happens as soon as the sound reaches your ears. You set your pencil on your paper, math equations and theories slipping from your mind.

Etsu hops onto the counter, his blazing orange fur shimmering in the sunlight. Despite him being a stray, his fur is the softest thing on the planet. You hope he is a stray, because that's how you connected to him in the first place. Sometimes you wonder if he's had those long, quiet nights alone.

"You ready for a meat bun?" You say, sliding a hand back from his head to mid back. He anticipates your touch, always tilting his head up before you caress him again. The mewl he gives, so meek and mild, is what you understand to be a 'yes'.

And so you go over to the pork bun warmer and carefully pluck a bun from the middle shelf, trying your hardest not to touch the metal racks in between. There's still a little splotch of red on your hand from the last time you burned yourself.

The doughy flesh of the bun is warm under your fingertips, and droops slightly, heavy with pork. Steam escapes from every pore, and then, as you slice the bun open, it billows out.

The soft sounds of Estu enjoying his meal brings you a gratification that only comes on—again—during peaceful moments like these.

But as you watch him, you notice your dad's tall, black water bottle and cellphone sitting next to the rotary.

I should probably go and give it to him, you think, watching the bottle now instead of Etsu.

It's about four minutes walking distance from the store.

It wouldn't hurt.

"Nana! Dad left his water here. I'll be right back!"

You wait until you hear the warm, candied voice of your grandmother to leave the store. For a moment, a part of you misses the cool air conditioning.

****

As you enter the breezeway leading to the gym, you realize that you've never been here after school. There's a different vibe, you immediately notice; one that has your steps slowing.

You have never seen the boys your dad coaches. It's not like he forbade you from going to games; and it's not like didn't have any interest in the sport. It's just that you...never.. saw them practice.

You can hear the shoes squeaking and the ball slamming against the waxed floor. It's starts to sound like a horror movie soundtrack, in a weird way.

You peep your head in, carefully clutching the metal door frame.

Five boys, the ones your dad mentioned about earlier, are the first things to catch your eye. One of them, with hair as orange and fiery as Etsu's, is mid-air.

You spot your dad fifteen feet away to the left, arms crossed over one another, head tilted down and eyes wound up--his Focus Face, as you liked to call it. He's deep in his concentration, watching every move of the players on the court. You don't want to interrupt him, so you wait till one of the sides makes a point.

That point comes no sooner after you decide, and after it does, the boisterous cheers of the side closest to you fill the room. You take one step in, more confident, then another, till you're past the metal threshold.

"Dad?"

The man in question turns on instinct. He knows that voice. For fifteen years he's heard the sound of that word, the specific pitch and inflection. So he turns, void of any hesitation or forethought, only wondering why you're here a good few seconds after he sees your face.

Everyone else turns too. The word is so foreign in that environment it feels like slime against skin. The cheers stop. Even the ball stops rolling, and all eyes are on you.

"(Y/n)? What are you--" your father begins, still wide-eyed and surprised. They stay like that for only that moment, however, before returning to their sharp gaze. He turns to the boys, and says, "Excuse me for a second."

You meet him halfway as he walks towards you, neverminding the boys' stares. Haven't they ever seen a girl before? Wasn't that a girl standing right beside your dad?

"You forgot your water bottle," you half-whisper. The stares are getting to you, and you start to feel like you're being cooked alive. "I thought you might need it."

Behind him, a soft murmur lays low in the air. You're hyper-aware of it. What are they saying?

"Thanks, sugarplum." Your dad smiles, something that you know others rarely see, and takes the bottle.

You follow the same path back towards the doors, every now and then peaking glances back at the curious boys. They look kinda goofy, you think, just standing there like they had just witnessed a miracle, like the Lord Jesus Christ himself had come down from the heavens.

But as you turn the corner, a wall that wasn't there before blocks your path. It takes two seconds to register this, but in that first second, you're already colliding into it.

You stumble back, and so does the wall, giving you enough space to look up and see two eyes staring down at you. They're brown and wide with fear, as if had just broken an ancient artifact and was about to be executed.

A squeaky sorry tumbles from your lips at the same time he apologizes.

"Are you okay?" The wall--boy...man?--says. You're still in a daze, but lucid enough to give him a reassuring smile. You've seen him around before. You've never talked to him, but always feel bad that others perceived him as villainous or criminal. Deep down you he know has a kind soul... and a cute face.

"I'm fine! Don't worry about it."

"(Y/n)! You alright?" Your dad calls out from where he is, leaning over to see who you bumped into.

"Yeah! Everything's good!" You pip.

The wall in front of you shifts to the side, clearing the way for you to exit.

You walk with your head down all the way back home, afraid that anyone and everyone could see how red your face was.

God, that was embarrassing.

****

"Coach, was that your daughter?!" Tanaka says, almost teasingly. He's the first to break the silence, and has an apparent death wish.

Soft eyes go razor sharp again. No way was he going to let any one of those hormonal teenage boys near his precious daughter.

"Get back to work, Tanaka!" Ukai barks. All the color drains from Asahi's face, who is still standing by the doors.

"Wait, you mean... I just ran into your daughter?"

"It's okay, Asahi, don't worry about it."

"But...but..."

"Does she go to Karasuno?" Hinata asks over Asahi's blubbering, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Yes, but don't you dare even think about--

"Is she a first year?"

"SHE'S A SECOND YEAR, FIRST YEAR, NOW GO GET READY FOR PRACTICE."

"Y-yes sir!"

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo #ukai keishin #ukai x y/n #ukai x reader #tanaka ryuunosuke #asahi azumane #haikyuu fanfiction

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famouskittychild · 3 years

Text

Star Wars Fun in the Sun

vol 2 - At the pool

This is my gift (vol2) for @milfsyndullas in the Fun in the Sun gift exchange (hosted at @starwarsfandomfests). Some poolside fun during a break away from the war with the trio of Obi-wan, Anakin and Ahsoka.

AO3

The small skiff that had carried them down to the planet was a welcome sight. It was the first civilian craft they had been in for a while, and the unusual colours, shapes and interior kept them occupied during the descent.

“What a nice little ship this is” expressed Ahsoka what all three of them were thinking. Obi-wan answered with his usual serenity.

“Yes, it was acquired for the Grand Army not long after the beginning of the war. The planet we are heading to is on a supply line, so many of their infrastructure is now helping the war effort.”

Anakin’s mood darkened a bit though if anyone would’ve asked why, he couldn’t have answered. Ahsoka did find the problem for him.

“So… they had to give up their livelihood to the Republic…”

“... and the Republic uses it so they can go back to live their lives undisturbed by war as soon as possible.” Obi-wan nodded.

The skiff banked and they had a great view at the land under them. Green forests, white dwellings and small blue lakes were the dominant features under the patchy cover of rainclouds. The craft straightened out, bringing the landscape slowly out of view. The pilot’s voice came through the on-board comm system.

“We will be landing in five minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing.”

The facility that was chosen as housing for the visiting officers was a sprawling complex of low, simple buildings nestled in a valley between gently rising hills. The person who took them over from the clerk at the front desk told them about the place after Obi-wan asked about it. Lilac Crescent was a holiday resort, with the attractions of forest walks, multiple lakes and wildlife reserves nearby.

“Soon after the war started, the ‘Crescent was acquired for the war effort. The tourism dried up anyways, what with all the blockades and restrictions. We usually host training sessions here, or provide housing for all kind of personnel, from troopers to clerks to maintenance workers. Most recently we had a conference for medical personnel. This way please.”

They reached a pair of glass doors on the corridor. It opened onto a spacious square that had a large enough space in the middle for every resident to gather there. Outside of the open area, the lawn was dotted with benches, tidy bushes and picnic tables. Small pathways led to the white walled cabins strewn around the premises, trees giving shade to them here and there.

Their building was off from the main one somewhat. Behind the cabins there were clusters of larger houses with two stories.

“Those have apartments, as we were told we can expect some of your colleagues to join you later. We had prepared an apartment with three bedrooms for you; if there is any request or you would like a different one, please let us know and we can make the necessary adjustments.”

“Thank you” Obi-wan answered for all three of them. They knew they wont be asking for anything.

There were differently coloured doors for each of the separate apartments on the outside of the building, but their guide led them to a widest, double door in the middle. It opened into an alcove cutting straight through the building, walls lined with ferns and other shadow tolerant plants. As they rounded the corner and stepped into the inner courtyard, they all drew to a stop. Their guide grinned at them, no doubt expecting their reaction from experience with other visitors. Ahsoka’s jaw dropped, Anakin broke into a grin, and even Obi-wan’s smile grew wider.

“A swimming pool?” Ahsoka breathed.

“With parasols!” Anakin pointed out, which made Ahsoka snap around to look at him. She didn’t expected him to single those out when there was a small slide at one corner.

“And a slide!” she pointed it out to him.

“This is very nice.” Obi-wan turned to their guide. “Thank you.”

Their guide smiled.

“You are very welcome. Your unit will be just over there” they pointed towards the corner on their right, at one of the transparent wide doors. “Communal rooms on the ground floor, bedrooms and fresher upstairs. The shed over there contains pool equipment. There’s instructions for everything that needs instructions, and the rest is safe to use as is.”

They gave the keycards to Anakin who stood closest.

“The main building has meals all through the day, and we have a delivery service too, accessible from your datapads, both for groceries and meals. Just use the comm in the lounge if you need anything, any time.”

They thanked them for their help, smiling and looking forward to spending a few days there, then the employee left and they went to settle into their rooms. The glass double doors opened to the lounge, with low sofas in cheerful colours. Other transparent sliding doors separated the kitchen and dining areas, with windows set high on the walls that looked outside, for privacy. They opened all of them and enjoyed the breeze crossing the house.

Ahsoka run upstairs then yelled down telling them she had found her room.

“Its the one with the blue curtains!”

Anakin was inspecting the taps and Obi-wan was reading the safety guide posted on the hallway wall. Ahsoka grabbed their bags and carried them upstairs, leaving them in the middle of the foyer on the landing, thinking the other two can choose their rooms later. They were still inspecting the place when she got back downstairs. Anakin was now looking at the kettle, flipping the switch on and off on it. It was an old, almost entirely mechanical model, nothing like the automated appliances they were used to. She plopped down onto a sofa and relaxed.

“Don’t get too comfortable, we will have to leave for the briefing soon.” Obi-wan told her, as she expected he would, and she sighed. They might have come here for training and other official stuff, not even knowing for exactly how many days, but at least their surrounding were nice. She looked out at the pool. Very nice.

If only the weather would cooperate.

After returning at the end of their official schedule later that day, Ahsoka went to the top floor straight away, leaving the other two downstairs. There was a large closet on the corridor, right by the stairs, that she wanted to investigate. She wondered what would be stored there; not bedlinen or bathing towels, as those were supplied with each room in their own closets. She opened the large doors and her jaw dropped. The contents of the spacious storage were so colourful, it reminded her of a toyshop.

“What are these? Circus tent accessories?” She mused, than looked closer. The neat piles were sorted by type it seemed. There were some that looked like towels, in several sizes. Others seemed to have tailoring and hems - cloaks, probably; and then there were thin shawl-looking pieces, and simple carrier bags in several sizes, and an assortment of hats. She pulled out one of the clothes-looking things: it was a loosely shaped yellow and blue striped dress. It was probably meant to fit many sizes and shapes with its wide sleeves, overlapping panels and ties at the waist and hems.

The corners of her mouth turned upwards. This closet was here probably for the same reason the shed down by the pool was: to be used by guest who didn’t bring their own things, or just needed a spare of something. She could choose for herself, yes. But she could also choose for all three of them.

Just to spare the bother for the others.

Fifteen minutes later, she hopped down the stairs, with a pile for the two jedis on her arm.

Anakin looked up at the sound of her barrelling down the stairs and stopped in his tracks as she came into view.

“Where did you got those?”

Ahsoka stopped in the middle of the room and looked down at herself as if just noticing that something is out of the ordinary.

“Oh. These. I found them in the closet upstairs. I’ve got some for you, master, and for Master Kenobi.” She lifted her arm with the suspicious pile. Anakin raised an eyebrow at her.

“Thank you for your effort”, he said cautiously. If her current look and the cascade of colours and patterns he could see where any indication, they weren't in for anything good.

Over her clothes she was wearing a cheerful lilac wrap-dress with a pattern of small blue flowers. She had a large towel thrown over her shoulder in a riot of greens, yellows and purples. The most unusual was the wide brimmed yellow hat she had over her montrals, the top of them sticking out of it.

She must’ve noticed his gaze as she glanced up at her headwear.

“I even found hats for non-round-heads. This will be good against the sun, isn’t it?” She addressed the question for both of them, as Obi-wan had moved closer too.

“What had you chosen for us?” he asked her in his usual light tone. Anakin braced himself, and his padawan’s exited grin just further spurred his suspicions.

He was right. She got them a similarly riotous assortment of shirts, dressing gowns, towels and even hats. Obi-wan seemed happy with her choices, but Anakin felt a bit uncomfortable.

“These are so… colourful.” He tried to put it into words. He wasn’t sure it was right for them, or for him, to wear things like these.

Ahsoka shrugged with a mischievous grin.

“That was my intent, master. Usually we have plain clothes, but we are on holiday. I thought we might enjoy our clothes for once, not just use them.”

Anakin looked at her, and realized he had to make a choice. She was right, there was nothing wrong with letting their hair down a bit. On the other hand, he also realized that his padawan had probably chosen the most outrageously coloured and patterned and maybe even tailored things she could find.

Out of habit, he glanced over to his former master. Obi-wan looked back from the corner of his eye, lips in a half smirk, and Anakin knew he had came to the same conclusion. But Anakin was the teacher here; it had to be his choice how to handle this.

“Make sure to take some holo recordings whilst we are wearing these, as you already went to the trouble of selecting the most outrages ones for us.”

Ahsoka opened her mouth to dispute some of what he said, then wisely changed her mind.

The weather, as it often happens, did not cooperate. It rained through the next day, but at least they were busy with their schedule. They were also told to have a rest for another four days. Their troopers were back on Kamino, getting their usual update courses and evaluations. They could expect the officers showing up sometime the last day or two, depending on other factors. Until then, they were free to relax.

They talked about maybe going back to Coruscant, but Obi-wan cut that idea short.

“We haven’t had any time away either from the battlefields or the operation planning on Coruscant. Rest is important, too. Let’s recharge in the next few days.”

“Then when the boys get here we can dive straight back into action.” Anakin added, already on board. Ahsoka looked between the two of them, then shot a pointed look towards the courtyard.

“Swimming pool?” she asked. So far they had no time to try it out.

“Not in this weather” Anakin looked out through the doors. Over the low roofs of the building, the clouds were grey. It was raining intermittently.

“Not exactly pool weather,” Obi-wan was still cheerful despite it, “but good for a barbecue.”

The other two met his enthusiasm with doubt.

“Master Kenobi, it’s raining.” Ahsoka stated, just in case he missed the obvious. She could find no other explanation.

“Thank the Force for whoever had invented the umbrella, than.” He smiled at them once more before getting up from the sofa and getting ready to head out.

Off to the side of the lounge doors in front of every apartment was a small enclosed area with tiled floor, surrounded with low walls and small shrubs. There was enough room for a table and four chairs on one side and a pair of sunbeds opposite. It also had a built in grill with a cover over it at about shoulder height but no roof for whoever was standing in front of it.

Ahsoka and Anakin decided to stick to the lounge, reading their datapads and watching holos. They occasionally looked outside at Obi-wan, grilling away in his purple shirt decorated with palm leaves. He was using one hand to hold whatever utensil he needed and the other to hold the colourful umbrella. He even twirled it once in a while.

They thought him a bit silly, standing outside in the gloomy weather and messing with the smoky grill when they had a very well equipped and rain-free kitchen. Until he came back indoors with a pile of grilled meats and vegetables.

“Get those salads we ordered earlier, please. Time for dinner.”

Ahsoka retrieved the stack of dishes they had ordered from the Crescent’s own kitchen. Obi-wan piled up a plate for her with meats, and shared out the veggies between Anakin and himself, then they all had their pick from the salads. Anakin pestered Ahsoka light heartedly about her not eating her veggies, and she showed her carnivore canines to him as answer. But they both thanked Obi-wan for making the majority of the food, and for making it delicious.

“Lets hope the weather turns soon” he answered before tucking in.

The colourful wooden building the opposite of their apartment on the other side of the pool, turned out to be a shed housing treasures, at least according to Ahsoka. When they had woken up to clear skies and sunshine the that morning, it was all she could do to wolf down her breakfast porridge before she raced outside.

On their third day, it finally did, and they broke out the pool equipment.

Anakin followed her.

“I think I should supervise. I don’t want the pool to end up with rainbow bubbles.” He got up, and Obi-wan stopped with the spoon halfway to his mouth. That was something that didn’t occur to him before. Than he reminded himself that they were on officially mandated holiday, and the employees of the Crescent assured them that everything is safe that was stored around the pool for guests to use. He hoped safe didn’t mean skin coloured to purple and teal patches that takes weeks of three rounds of daily sonic use to fade away.

The sun was still low but started to rise above the rooftops surrounding the courtyard. It made him remember another thing he had learned the hard way. He gathered the dishes but left the washing up for later, then he followed his former padawan and their current padawan outside.

The sun had already dried up any remnants of puddles on the tiled courtyard. He did spot some dew on the patches of lawns between the poolside and the individual terraces but only where there was till shadow. He knew the last reminders of the past few rainy days will vanish before noon and the meteorology service promised sunshine with a bit of breeze for the coming days. Perfect poolside weather.

He caught up with the younger ones and peaked over their shoulders. They were combing through the contents of the pool shed, at the moment inspecting the second shelf from the left. It had colourful boxes on the top shelves and some larger containers at the bottom.

“What are those?” He asked, and the other two jumped. “Sorry.”

Anakin waved him to not worry about it, and shoved him one of the boxes.

“Inflatables. There’s an airpump over there,” he pointed at a small machine in the corner, “and we are trying to choose.”

“I want the thranta. They are adorable.” Ahsoka said, showing the box already in her hand. Anakin raised an eyebrow.

“Those are aiwhas, obviously. The shape of the head…”

Ahsoka leaned forward, ready to argue with him. Obi-wan threw his palms up, stopping them.

“Argue later, please. For now, I want to remind you two to a very important thing.”

They both turned to him and showered him with guesses.

”Not to drown in the pool?” ”Not to pee in the pool?””Anakin! Where did you get that idea?!””The boys, obviously…”No eating in the pool!””No datapads, they aren’t actually waterproof.””Wear haircaps!””Not me!””Wear goggles?“

“Stop, please.” Obi-wan sighed, and the other two calmed down a bit. “I meant sunscreen. Plenty of sunscreen.” He paused, then looked at each of them in turn. “Learned that the hard way.”

“I smell a good story” grinned Ahsoka.

“I smell a funny story” Anakin added. Obi-wan rolled his eyes.

“If you want to know, yes, at one time I gut a sunburn so bad after a mere afternoon outside that I needed medical care. My face was red for two weeks and I needed to slather enough cooling lotion on myself that it would’ve covered a grown thranta. Or an aiwha.”

The other two tried not to laugh. Obi-wan was so pale, it was hard to imagine him all red, but they managed it of course. And it was hilarious. Only their respect for him stopped them to laugh at him, at least whilst he was standing in front of them.

“I haven’t seen any in the house, I guess people bring their own with them when they come here. I’ll put on a delivery request for them. Until that arrives, you two stay out of direct sunlight.” Again he looked at each of them in turn. It must have been really important to him if he was putting so much emphasis on it. “You don’t want to end up all red like I did back then.”

“Well that would be terrible” Ahsoka deadpanned, looking at her arms. Obi-wan smiled.

“I apologize. I should have worded that differently.”

“Like ‘burned like a crispy stuffed tomato’ for example?” Anakin volunteered. Obi-wan shot him a look but there was humour behind it. He left them to continue their exploration and went back to the lounge to put the order in on his datapad.

The shed was a treasure throw. Neither of them had ever been to a place like this. They did swim at the temple’s pool but that was for learning and training. They never had the opportunity yet to just have fun with some water. It was extra nice that it wasn’t a beach - no sand. Anakin could never get used to having sand around water. Sand was desert, aridity, and water was everything the desert wasn’t. He could also never wrap his mind around the fact that the larger the body of water the more sand it’s shores tended to have.

Or that people went there willingly not just to swim but to play in the sand. For him, that substance was hard, gritty life, and when having fun, he didn’t wanted to be reminded of that.

Ahsoka had no such qualms, although she knew about her master’s aversion and she sympathised with him.

By the time Obi-wan had arrived with the sunscreen sometime later, the other two had a competition going on. The airpump stood unused by their side and they were trying to inflate their respective pool floats using only their own lung capacities.

“That’s futile but a valiant effort” Obi-wan commented, and the other two threw him the annoyed look of the young. “I also have the sunscreen here, if you two need a break.”

They didn’t, of course, and they continued their strenuous competition. Watching the other two getting more and more winded whilst their floats where still barely more than colourful limp piles at their feet, Obi-wan sat down at one of the sunbeds around the pool with his yellow-green-red spotted towel and started to put lotion on his skin methodically.

“Do you need help, master?” Anakin asked some time later. Obi-wan looked up to see that they had stopped - and barely made progress - and were both looking at him. He shook his head, a bit confused about the question.

“No, I can manage, thank you Anakin.”

The other two exchanged looks than turned back to him. Than he realized. He was finished with the front of his torso and his shoulders; next would be his back. Which they thought would be a problem for poor old Obi-wan, obviously.

“Don’t worry I can reach my own back.” He turned around so they could see, and hooked his hands together behind his back, one arm over his shoulder the other reaching up from below. “See?”

He turned around and the other two had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. He didn’t blame them. He might’ve had similar thoughts about others at their age.

“Now how are those floats going?” he asked while his hands were working on his back.

“Abysmal.” “Hopeless.” “Futile.” “They are faulty.” “Yes, I bet they have holes on them.”

Obi-wan shot a look at them that made them stop.

“Well, I guess, we should admit defeat…”Anakin conceded, “and just use the machine.”

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea, master” agreed Ahsoka too.

They went over to the machine and in a few minutes they had two colourful, vaguely air-whale shaped mattresses. Ahsoka’s one was teal and turquoise and gray, while Anakin had a pink-blue-yellow one for himself.

“Would you like one too, master?” They already started to walk towards the shed.

“No thank you Anakin, I’ll chose one later after I finished.”

“It’s not a problem” and they already vanished. Obi-wan sighed, wondering what will he get. Between his shirts that Ahsoka cheerfully picked out for him every morning - he had a pink one on with tiny porgs all over it today- and his towels - those he choose himself, but the selection for both ranged from “cheerfully bright” through “interesting pattern” to “what where they on when they designed this”- he probably wore more colour in this past few days than usually did in a standard year, disguises included. He decided to wait to see what they chose for him, than he’d just have make his own choice if he doesn't like their selection.

He didn’t liked it. It was some large bird, green and purple, and unlike theirs, wasn’t flat but shaped like a very awkward chair. So he went and rummaged around, settling on a large torus shaped something in all the colours of the rainbow. He was already covered in colours, so he thought why not go all out.

They air-whales were already floating on the water. Anakin and Ahsoka were sitting at the edge of the pool near them, hanging their legs into the water, passing the sunscreen bottle back and forth between them. After inflating his own device, Obi-wan saw that they were taking the task of screening up seriously. He got hold of the doughnut firmly, took a two careful steps to speed up than jumped onto the water. As he landed, he splashed up a good deal of water - straight at the two younger ones.

“Master!” he heard the two indignant voices. He turned to look at them innocently.

“Yes my dears?”

They had water dripping all over them. He knew they’ll get back at him later. He padded away, looking for the small portable music device he remembered seeing somewhere beside the pool. Might as well have some music too.

Their attack was coordinated and well executed. Anakin floated in front of him, blocking his view and chatting with him. Under that cover, Ahsoka managed to round him unnoticed, then at a sign they both grabbed his doughnut and upturned it, tossing him into the water.

“Vengeance!” the yelled, laughing, as Obi-wan resurfaced spluttering, shaking his hair out of his eyers. Their alliance broke up almost immediately as their floats bumped into each other and they started to jostle.

“Hey, mind the thranta!” Ahsoka warned.

“It’s an aiwha.” Anakin pushed her, and her mattress wobbled heavily, threatening to throw her off.

“Yours maybe. This one isn't.”

They argued back and forth about the properties of the different air-whale species until they managed to knock each other off their respective float. All three in the water, the fight turned to everyone for themselves. Ahsoka was the shortest but also the most agile, and she swam around the other two like a fish. Anakin and Obi-wan was evenly matched, and they managed to push each other under the water and being pushed down by the other about equal frequency. Ahsoka won the battle when she remembered that she saw some long, straight foam rolls in the shed and whilst the other two was occupying themselves she sneaked out to get them Than she slapped them both on top of their heads, making them admitting defeat.

When they got too tired - and hungry - they climbed out of the water and wrapped up in their oversized towels. Ahsoka’s was so large it covered her like a tent, but she loved the one she had and kept in on: it had tookas all over it. Than they fired up the barbecue again. This time Obi-wan had help, mostly because the other two were really hungry. After eating, he pulled out a second box of deliveries, just when they were getting ready to get back into the water.

“What are those?”

The largish box was full with bottles and jars, their contents a rainbow of colours.

“This, dear Ahsoka,” Obi-wan checked his datapad, “ well, let me read out the official product designation. This is a ‘The starter box every pool party needs if you want to avoid your guests getting too rowdy, touchy or messing up your place in one way or another - Everything You Need to Make Your Own Mocktails, Starter pack for twelve guests’. This was the smallest package, the others were for 24, 30, 50 or even more guests.”

“That’s how they called their product?” Anakin dug into the box, pulling out a jar with small golden fruits in it. It harmonised with the shirt he had on, with songbirds. “And they are still in business…”

“Who has twelve guest?” was Ahsoka’s observation.

“Here are some recipes” Obi-wan handed a small puck to her. She pushed a button on the cheap plastic gadget and a cheery hologram of an assortment of colourful drinks in fancy glasses showed up. She scrolled to the next picture, and there was indeed a recipe for the simplest of drinks under it.

“Syrup, water, bubbles - where do we get bubbles?” she mused.

“I think there’s a gadget for that. All is supposed to be in the box.” Obi-wan shrugged.

They all choose from the supplied list than set to measure and shake and stir. The first round was a success.

“Let’s try some of the more complicated ones” Anakin suggested only halfway into his drink. Ahsoka scrolled through the recipes and they found one that they both liked.

“How about this one. ‘Chandrilla Sunrise’. Phew, long list, but doesn’t seem too complicated.”

Their first try failed, predictably.

“Focus, padawan. I think we’ll have to follow the instructions by the letter.” Anakin furrowed his brows.

“Oh dear, that’s terrible” commented Obi-wan, than he turned back to his own holopad quickly. “I’ll will just look up some more tricks and recipes while you two… brew.”

They messed up something again. The colours didn’t stay separate bands but blended together into a muddy mix. Obi-wan found the root of their problem.

“The recipe doesn’t mention it, but here it says you have to keep each syrup chilled before pouring them into the glass, than wait a bit for it to warm up to air temperature before adding the next one.” The other two made a ‘hmm, gotcha’ noise simultaneously. “Other advise is to chill the glass beforehand.”

“Let’s try those ideas.” Anakin’s enthusiasm renewed, they got back to work on their third glass. It was a success, finally. Then they had to repeat the process two more times so each of them had a glass for themselves. Decorating them with straws, paper shapes that went over the edge and extra candied fruits.

Ahsoka exchanged her towel to a blue dress with puffy pink clouds printed on it, then turned the volume up on the music player before picking up her glass again. The sun was shining, their bellies were full and no one was shooting at them. It was a great day.

The sun was slowly getting lower over the rooftops. Music was playing at an acceptable volume now after Ahsoka started to go a bit overboard before and they had to shout to hear each other. Some of the sunbeds were covered with towels and wraps and hats as they tossed them aside when not needed. They took turns on the slide, having a competition about who could make the biggest splash when crashing into the water. Anakin seemed to be in the lead.

“It’s not fair, you are just taller, that’s your advantage!” Ahsoka complained as they stood at the edge of the pool. Obi-wan agreed with her.

“Yes, he doesn’t use any technique aside of stretching out all limbs.”

Anakin grinned at them.

“You two are just sore losers.” Then he suddenly turned and with a single step, reached the edge of the pool and jumped. The other two barely had enough time to turn away before he smashed into the pool, splashing plenty of water at them.

After declaring Anakin the splasher champion, him and Ahsoka got back on their floats for another round of foam-noodle duel and general splashing about. Obi-wan had stuck to his datapad, still reading about drink-making tricks and flavour harmonization and fruit types. He floated around on his doughnut as far as possible from the ruckus the other two were making, sipping from his glass with an umbrella in it and a fruit rind over its edge. By the end of the day, he had made almost a dozen different drinks, and they never had to float around long without one in hand, or put aside at the edge of the pool.

“Don’t forget to visit the fresher if you need to, master” Ahsoka reminded Anakin, who shot her a look of mock offence.

“Now why would you say that?” He took a sip of his drink, than furrowed his brow. “Actually that's not that bad of an idea.”

It took him a while to paddle to the edge of the pool using only one hand.

“You can do it, master!” “Use your legs!” “Don’t drop the glass, I spent half hour on that one!” was just a few of the advice he had received.

He mock- growled back at them then laughed himself as he finally climbed up onto the tiles.

“I'm so proud of you” Obi-wan told him, and raised his glass, Ahsoka’s giggling behind him.

They stayed out after the sun had already set, than gathered up their their stuff and went to sleep tired but happy.

Just like the day before, Anakin and Ahsoka spent most of the day in the pool. They got very good at jumping in from the edge of the pool without their feet slipping on the wet tiles. When they got tired of that, they flopped onto their respective air-whales and padded about, occasionally bumping into each other and having a wrestling match. Obi-wan had joined them before, after the sun dipped a bit lower after the glare of the middle of the day. He even jumped in himself a few times, though he enjoyed the slide more. He was now making a late afternoon meal; the leftovers were all gone and he was happy to muck about the barbecue yet again.

He heard some noises from outside. It was quiet aside of the splashing coming from the pool and the noises made by the small portable music player. Maybe they were getting some neighbours before the officers arrived. They were expecting them the next day, no later than noon. Then the noises grew louder and he could tell that they were definitely made by sentients, and were getting closer. He stuck his head out around the barbecue’s wall and peaked towards the courtyard entrance, just in time to see the approaching group of clone officers step out into the sunshine. They burst into hollering upon seeing them, and when Ahsoka and Anakin noticed them they greeted them from the water with equal enthusiasm.

Obi-wan sighed. How lucky, he thought, that he spent the last afternoon studying how to make mocktails. He checked that everything that was on the grill could be left there for a little while, than he wiped his hands on his ‘Best chef in the sector’ apron and got his datapad.

As the officers gathered around the pool, chatting with Anakin and Ahsoka and no doubt planning to get in the water as soon as possible, he opened the delivery service on his datapad. He run through the items in his head that they’ll need to feed everyone. And the drink supplies too.

Maybe he can get some of them to help out with the food and drink preparations - if he can drag them from the pool first.

#sw fun in the sun #swfuninthesun #summer gift exchange #disaster trio #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #poolside #my writing

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theonlygamergost · 3 years

Text

Dream’s new friend -Dream SMP

I am an absolute sucker for Techno/Dream interactions, and them getting locked up together made me want to write about them, so here we are.

English is not my first language so sorry for any grammatical error, I try my best.

~~~~~~~~~~

They have a plan to escape, but it’s slow and very taxing on Dream’s frail body, so Techno tries his best to be a good friend and support him. Spoilers: he only knows how to be an amazing friend.

~~~~~~~~~

Warning! Mention of torture, Swearing

Enjoy~

“Just so you know, I'm not breaking all of the blocks by myself, you're helping” he looked at the half-pig while his hands went in and out of the water, Techno grinned, “You really thought I'd let you do that all by yourself?” he let out a short laugh, “I just needed to exaggerate my inner anarchist and look lazy in front of chat, that's all. We can do a block per person” Dream smiled behind his cracked mask, returning his gaze in front of him. Meditating on thoughts while watching the water break every time he punched.

It had been a few days since Techno last streamed, they had just broken the second block, meaning that Dream was up for the third block. The bell hadn't been touched very much, Techno had ringed it twice to annoy the other man, but that was about it.

“Do you regret asking for the bell instead of freedom?” Dream was sitting not too far at a from Techno, just enough to have privacy while writing, “Not really” the pig-man was punching away the second block, “I mean, it would have been anticlimactic to get out of here in the first stream” Dream sighed, “Is the entertainment of the situation all you care about?” he looked at Techno, slightly annoyed. The men tilted his head, “Not completely, but you have to agree that getting out of here using DreamXD would have drawn even more attention on you, not only from Quackity” he noted, “But from all the server” the man with the dirty white mask looked up, resting his head on the wall behind him, “True…”. The pig-man took a quick glance at the other boy and returned his focus on punching, Dream had followed suit and went back to writing.

Dream had kneeled and started punching the third block approximately twenty minutes ago, Techno was relaxing his tired body by laying sprawled on the floor: he had underestimated how tiring the process was.

“I have been training constantly up until I came here and this has worn me out, so how are you holding up?” He turned his face to the man punching away, who laughed at the question, “I’m not, why do you think I slept so much right after?”.

Oh right, the sight of Dream huddled in a corner popped into his mind, the cellmate stayed dead still and silent for a long while after breaking the first block. Who could blame him though? He had been stuck in this prison for what- six, seven months? Techno doubted the first inmate of this cell trained daily, with the heat of the lava and the constant sweating, even he wouldn’t want to train.

“Well, it’s still admirable that you recovered from a day of punching just by sleeping it off” Dream nodded as a thank you. After a sigh, Techno went back to staring at the ceiling, this wasn’t the best idea he had ever come up with, but hey, it was the only subtle one since he couldn’t use withers and tnt to get out.

He closed his eyes and focused on the various sounds of the lava: boiling, bubbling, it seemed like a soup cooking, but the sound of the liquid flowing down wasn’t normal, he opened his eyes, “Dream, the lava is falling”. The other man stopped punching and got closer to the edge of the cell, as soon as pistons got into motion, he quickly leapt behind the netherite block line and almost got left out, as it raised from the ground. Techno scooted in front of the bell and Dream leaned on the barrier, curious to see who was coming.

Some dreadful minutes after, the lava finally revealed who was visiting: It was none other than Sam.

“Heyyy Sam!” Techno was quick to chirp a greeting, waving excessively. Dream simply gestured a salute, backing away from the netherite blocks and leaning on a wall. The man in armour hopped on the taxi platform and started making his way, still silent. “What brings you here Sam? Maybe you’ve decided to free me?” The pig-man got no reply, just a stare, “Are you here because I have called every book I signed ‘Sub to Techno’? Listen, I can’t really apologize about that-” Sam got closer, still no response. Dream eyed the bell behind his inmate and hoped that the guard wouldn’t get too close, what would even happen if he saw it? He feared nothing good.

The platform reached the cell and Sam stepped on the obsidian, Dream wanted to ask where was Quackity, why he wasn’t coming anymore, maybe Sam was here to torture him in his stead? But he stayed quiet, not wanting to wake up the sleeping lion.

“Oh I got it!” Techno snapped his finger, “You missed us so you came to see us!” Sam sighed as he started to fumble in his inventory, “Don’t be ridiculous Techno” the guard finally spoke, “I came to check if you weren’t trying to escape-” He plopped a bag on the netherite barrier, “And to bring you potatoes. I’ve heard you’re a big fan of them, Technoblade” A smirk slipped though, god was he tired of being teased with the whole ‘Potato lover’ joke.

Sam turned to Dream and went back to rustle in his pocket, “I’ve also brought more journals and some ink for you, Dream.”. He also placed those on the barrier, the man with the white mask got off the wall and placed the bag of food on the floor while also grabbed the stationary, murmuring out a “Thank you”.

The guard looked at the two prisoners again, “You two better not be planning anything. Behave and nothing will happen to you” he said as he hopped back on the platform, and even when it started moving, he was still looking at those two. He only broke sight when he arrived on the other side, took down the netherite barrier and re-activated the lava.

Techno had been sweating throughout the entire meet-up, thankfully, the high temperature disguised his nervousness. Focusing on the slow dripping of the crying obsidian helped him avoid fidgeting or bouncing his leg. Dream was mostly focused on not looking in Techno’s direction too much, to avoid raising suspicion, he also restrained himself to tease or talk back to Sam, even though, thinking about it more clearly, in all the times Sam came to check up on him, he seemed lost in his thoughts, absent…

Both the inmates let out a sigh of relief when the lava-curtain dropped, Dream slid down the wall onto the floor, “I don’t know why he didn’t enter the cell like he usually does, but thank god he didn’t”, Techno let out a shaky breath, “That was pure stress… I thought hiding the bell was going to be easier”.

The two took a break from talking: Techno layed down again, placing an arm on his forehead, meanwhile Dream placed both books and food in their place. When he too sat down, Techno asked: “You should get some sleep before going back to punching” he tilted his head to look at the other man, who replied smiling at the friend’s concern, “Nah” he shook his head, “I don’t want to sleep, but I’ll post-pone punching for a little more” Techno nodded, closing his eyes for a little.

Silence fell again and the bubbling from the lava took over as the main noise, the elder guardian screech renewed their mining fatigue and Dream decided to close his eyes for a minute as well.

_________

The hard ground and the heat that wearing the mask had created were hard to ignore, his body ached a little and he was out of breath, “Oh wow that actually worked”, a faint voice made him realize that his mind was foggy: he had fallen asleep.

Slowly stretching his limbs, letting out a long whine and blinking a couple of times got him a bit more lucid, getting up to a sitting position. Scanning the room he realized his inmate was sitting at the edge of the lava cascade blocking the cell, fumbling with what, he couldn’t see.

“...Mh… Techno…” he mumbled with his morning voice, yawning right after. The friend looked over his shoulder to see a sleepy Dream rubbing his eyes, he smiled, “Good morning dear, I’m cooking you breakfast before you head for work”. The white-mask man smiled, “Very funny Techno…”, he stretched again. “Oh no I’m not kidding, I’m baking the potatoes” he turned to show the crispy tubers in his arms, Dream’s eyes widened. “Oh wow, you really did that” Techno nodded, getting up from his improvized ‘kitchen’, “I was surprised it worked as well honestly”.

The smell of food filled the cell, making the sleepy man’s stomach rumble, they both laughed at the sound: Dream had almost forgotten what hot food tasted like. “Here” Techno threw him a potato, almost dropping it on the ground because of Dream’s rusty reflexes.

He took off his broken mask out of excitement to taste the meal, not realizing his own action, but Techno didn’t stare at him nor asked questions about it, he simply sat down himself and didn’t speak a word, probably the easiest and more natural way he had ever shown someone his face, he silently thanked the other man for not judging him or reacting negatively.

Once he started eating it, a tear almost fell off his eye, the pig-man noticed, “Oh yeah… you’ve been eating them raw for a long time”. The potato expert looked over the hungry and content friend eating away, “I can always do more if you’d like, they taste better cooked either way” and he also took a bite. They ate in silence mostly, a couple of words were exchanged but nothing much.

When Techno (who wasn’t as hungry as Dream) finished his snack, he looked over at the ‘ex toilet’ and got up to sit down next to it, rolling his sleeves up. Dream noticed, “Umf...Whatf awe you doingf?” He asked with his mouth full, making the friend smile, “I’ll start punching so you can rest a little more, we can swap whenever you feel rested and full enough” and he did start punching, Dream nodded, looking at the potato in his hand.

Now he understood why Phil and Wilbur liked Techno so much: who he saw as friends were treated with the utmost respect and care. He glanced over at the pig-man once more. But if you never saw this side of him… how could you even try and trust him? That’s why Quackity was so traumatized…

He squinted, the view of Techno standing between him and Tommy flashed in his mind, Dream’s eyebrows knitted.

Then why did Tommy give away Techno’s kindness for a dying country and people that didn’t care for him?

A deep sigh came from the man in the corner, snapping Dream back to his obsidian cell.

As long as Dream was sincere with Techno. they would have been both down to help the other. He finished munching on his meal. Yes, Techno owed one to Dream, but now that he was alone, with no friends or allies, transforming that debt into a friendship seemed like a gift. A gift Dream would treat with respect and gratitude.

“Thank you Techno…” Techno smiled, allowing a content noise to slip out of him, “What, for cooking a potato?” Dream shook his head even if the pig-man couldn’t see him, “No… For being my friend” the man in question turned to look at the white mask- no, underneath the white mask. “I don’t have a lot of friends myself y’know, I guess you could say we are two lonely dudes keeping each other company”.

Dream giggled, they hadn’t interacted that much until now… but he was sure he was going to enjoy being around him.

#dreamsmp #dreamsmp fanfiction #technoblade #dreamwastaken #awesamdude #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #tw torture mention #dream fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction

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monst · 4 years

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So imagine Todoroki, Bakugou or Kirishima walking in on reader sleeping. But she sleeps in the nude.

What are Pyjamas?

All characters 18+

Todoroki Shouto, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou x reader.

Warnings: Voyeurism, Noncon touching, questionable actions. Sexy times themes.

Sorry for the wait babe.

Todoroki Shouto

Would never enter your room. Not only would it be an invasion of your privacy it would also make him feel bad since he forbid anyone from intruding into his space. However, this wasn’t exactly your personal bedroom. It was just a hotel room. He was very hesitant but, you had his card for his room.

Just as he was about to knock he noticed that the door was a jar…… How dangerous. You really were forgetful. Maybe he didn’t have to knock.... If you were already asleep then he didn’t have to feel bad for waking you. Right? Besides it was just a quick slip inside and he’d be gone in a flash.

Todoroki held his breath when he pushed the door open, as if one loud exhale would rouse you from your slumber. Once fully inside he closed the door. He was surprised to find the lights still on. He figured that it was fine. That way he didn’t have to use his flash. As he walked in further he froze.

He noticed a couple of things. Your blankets were on the ground. You were definitely asleep. And you were very, very naked. Todoroki could have sworn that his fire quirk had consumed his entire body. The poor man was red from the roots up.

He should have looked away. It was really invasive and wrong to look at your nude form without your consent……. You looked good naked. He couldn’t stop his blue grey eyes from observing every inch of your body. Was the room getting hotter??

Would it be bad if he got a closer look? Finally at the edge of the bed he gulped. Fuck you were hot. However, you were curled up on your side. Before he could stop himself he was running the tips of his fingers down your soft skin. You shifted at the sensation You now laid face up.

He sucked in a breath when his eyes looked at your peaked nipples. A small touch wouldn't hurt. Right? The moan you let out had him hard against his pants. God he felt like a pervert. You were so fucking soft. He was surprised that you didn’t stir when he climbed onto the bed to cup your breasts.

He ran his hands down your sides fingers holding onto your hips. He licked his lips eyes blown wide in lust. He had to stop the groan climbing up his throat when the pads of his fingers gripped the soft flesh of your thighs. When he pulled your thighs apart he let out a shaky sigh. Your cunt was glistening, slick slipping past your folds.

You were this wet? Just from his soft touches? Would it be bad if he went down for a taste?.... Too bad he didn’t get the chance. His heart almost stopped when he heard your door become unlocked. With the speed of the flash he hid underneath your bed watching as Ashido’s pink legs crossed over to drop herself onto her bed.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there. His hard on pressed on the cold floor, Mind spinning with the image of your nude form. Once he was sure Ashido was out he slithered out of the room….. He pressed his back to the door, letting out a deep breath… Dammit he forgot the keycard!

Bakugou Katsuki

Last week there had been a villain who had snuck into his apartment complex for revenge. He was obviously caught but the fiend riled him up so much that half the building suffered the consequences. He was just glad his large salary could afford the repairs.

His roommate Kirishima was able to score a stay with Kaminari. But, Kaminari’s wife had still not gotten over his criticism at her latest album and thought that she should be petty…. Feeling bad Kirishima had called you. Your roomie had left for a couple of weeks to vacation with her family so you had no issues with the blonde crashing at your place.

The stay wasn’t bad. Not by a long shot. You just had one rule, No locked doors. While he originally wanted to complain he came to see how useful it was. Especially when there was one rest room and he had to pee. You didn’t bat a lash when he came in to relieve himself while you were showering. You truly had too much chill.

He was sleeping in your roommate’s room when it happened. He was sitting up on his bed immediately. Someone was in the house. He was out the door in a flash. His red eyes narrowed in confusion. That was until he heard a slam of a door….. Your door. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he raced to your room.

He was cursing your stupid no locks rule as he pried it open. How could you be so stupid?! How did he not even notice?! When the wood was finally out of the way he sputtered. “What the fucking hell?!” He had yelled. You had one hand on your blanket raising it up as you were getting onto the bed.

You didn’t turn around… Could you be? “Just my luck this bitch sleepwalks.” Pulling his phone out from his sweats he went to turn on the flash. “Oi you dumb- Oh shit…” When the white light of his flash hit you he was pleasantly surprised.

His vermillion eyes didn’t show an ounce of shame as he looked at your nude form up and down. He let a smirk cross his lips. Your body was totally his type. Had he known you looked this sexy without clothes he would have pulled the shower curtain to the side every time you were showering.

That was when the thought hit him….. This was most likely wrong but you didn’t have to know. Did you? With that in mind he walked out of the room and turned on all the lights of your apartment. With that done, he knocked on the front door. He waited with baited breath. Then you finally emerged. A groggy ‘who?’ escaping your lips.

He grinned when he noticed you were still asleep. “I’ll get it.” He ‘informed’. You just said okay and walked to the kitchen. He quickly followed. His eyes widened when he saw you. You were bent over digging through the bottom cabinets giving him the perfect view of your ass and cunt. Oh he was taking a picture.

He made you go around the entire area. Asking you to do different things while you slept all while taking pictures he deemed ‘perfect’. A couple of you mock cleaning, reaching over, bending down….. Doing ‘exercise’. He really couldn’t help himself. Halfway through his endeavor his hand had slid under the waistband of his pants.

“Fuck.” He almost bust a nut when you were doing yoga. The downward dog position. It took all of his self control not to spank your ass and take you while you slept. When you moved to a three legged dog pose he let out a low groan. Fuck what would you think if you woke up?

There he was sitting on the couch cock in hand as he fisted himself off to your unconscious actions. “Shit. If you woke up right now ngh. Fuck i’d make you choke on my dick for teasing me all night.” His other hand went to cup his balls when he saw your titties bounce from a change in pose. “You’d like that wouldn’t you hah Fucking slut.” He whined as he edged himself closer. “You’d open your legs wide open so I could split that pretty cunt of your such a fucking dirty bitch.” As he continued to degrade you he continued the quick motion on his shaft.

Just as he was about to cum your phone went off. You’d think Bakugou had developed a new quirk with how fast he moved. He wasn’t sure if you had woken from the sound but he did hear your body move back to your room. But that was fine he could finish himself off with all the pictures he took. After this discovery he was really looking forward to the rest of his stay.

Kirishima Eijirou

Oh he was going to hear it from Bakugou. If he entered the house from the front door there was no doubt in his mind that his aggressive friend would pummel him. He promised he’d be back with the booze three hours ago. But, he may have dropped them.. And would you believe him if he told you that they rolled down a sewer drain? Unbelievable right? But it was the sad truth.

He knew Bakugou would assume it was a lie. He even went back to the store to purchase more. And, as if the universe was against him they had closed. He ran back to the drain only to see that the cans were being split by some delinquents. He scoured the entire district for another open store…. Even the open 24/7 stores seemed to be closed. It was then that he remembered that it was a national holiday.

Bakugou was breaking curfew lying in wait to crush him. The lights were on...except for his bedroom. What if he could get to his room without alerting Bakugou? Bakugou was so focused on the front door that he wouldn’t notice. Well if all the text threats he was receiving were anything to go by.

It wasn’t a far climb. He’d just have to climb onto his neighbors balcony and slip onto his. He’d done much harder tasks as a hero. So with that in mind he started his trek. He let out a relieved sigh once his feet met your balcony. Just as he was about to leap onto his, the windows were thrown open. “That shitty haired bastard! If he thinks he’s getting away with this shit he has another thing coming!” Bakugou yelled out the window.

Kirishima felt his heart jump to his throat and, thanked the Lord that you left your windows unlocked. Within in the nick of time he slipped inside your room watching as his blonde friend walked onto his balcony. He watched from behind your curtains as Bakugou phoned him again. The perceptive red-head quickly silenced his phone. He was glad it now rung in silence. ‘Leave a message after the tone.’ “Oi fucking hair for brains when you get home I’m going to rip you a new one got that? Don’t even think of trying to sneak in through your fucking balcony I locked that shit!” Why was Bakugou so scary???

He heard the dull smash of his windows being closed and most likely locked. He sighed, turning his back to the window. Oh that’s right he was still in your room. Your bedroom. Were you really sleeping with all the racket Bakugou was making??? As a matter of fact, he shouldn’t even be there. With that in mind he went to tug the window open.

‘D-did it lock?’ He thought incredulously. He pulled harder. It really wasn’t budging any more and he’d break it. The noise would wake you up and, you’d think he was some peeping tom. His chances of asking you out would be out the window just like the picture of him that’d be on the cover of every newspaper. He could see it now ‘Red Riot! Hero or scoundrel!’ With the luck he was having today he was sure it was a possibility.

“Hmm.” His blood ran cold. He was so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed that you were tossing and turning on your bed. What were the chances of you waking up if he left through the front door? He started on the journey only for the floorboards to squeak loudly in protest. You let out another noise and he was ready to burst into tears thinking you had awoken.

He turned to look and relaxed. You were still asleep limbs tangled within your sheets. His eyes stayed glued to your cocooned form for a while and he smiled. You were really cute. He’s thought so since the moment he moved in. He almost let out a chuckle at what was making the room visible. You had an All Might night light plugged into the wall. Cute.

You let out a soft whine making Kisihima’s lips lift higher. Then the smile dropped actually his jaw dropped. You had pushed the sheets off in your slumber. Could anyone blame you it was getting really hot. But, your body wasn’t the only body experiencing temperature change. Blood bloomed at his cheeks in seconds. He didn’t peg you for the type to sleep naked.

His inner Voyeuristic nature didn’t allow for him to turn away. You looked so soft. So tempting. He let out a soft gasp when one of your hands went up to cup your breast fingers tugging at your hardened nipples. Were you really asleep?

His eyes stayed glued to your form as you let out soft mewls and whimpers in your sleep while you touched yourself. He really shouldn’t be watching you. What if you woke up. He was going to turn away but you were running a hand down your body. It was going lower and lower. He really wanted to replace that hand. He watched mesmerized as you subconsciously parted your thighs.

He suddenly felt parched. He licked his lips imagining for a fraction of a second how great it would be to quench his thirst. To get a good drink from your dripping heat. The thought had him palming himself. Your fingers teased your slit. Your fingers now covered in your essence you brought it up to your clit. You drew slow circles around the area while your other hand still kneaded your breast.

“Hng.” Surprisingly the sound came from him as he brushed his finger over his slit to collect the pre-cum leaking out. He pumped his cock in time with your movements. Tugging harshly when two of your fingers disappeared into your slit. “Fuck baby your so damn hot.”

He was really getting off at watching you touch yourself in your sleep. All your whines of pleasure and moans had him close. You were also reaching you end rubbing frantically on your clit while rubbing your fingers on the ridges inside your pussy. With a loud sinful moan you came. Your tight hole clenching your fingers as your body finally relaxed against the bed.

Kirishima reached his end with a grunt, eyes widening as he realized he just nutted on your floor. He rolled his eyes when he noticed that you turned on your side and continued sleeping. Tugging his cock back into his pants he turned to the window and felt his soul leave his body. Familiar red eyes glared back into his. Without warning the flustered blonde smashed your window with an explosion.

“You disgusting fuck!” He yelled as he charged at the shell-shocked man. Needless to say you woke up to the two men brawling on your floor.

Edit: Lol 🤣 I just noticed it was either or I'm so dumb sometimes 😅 oh well did all three can't take it back now..

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begrudginglytumbling · 3 years

Text

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

Time for the next installment of my Bai Yu Sitting Project.

Unlike Part One, this'll focus on just one drama because the damned thing is 38 episodes long and I'm pretty sure the man spends a large majority of his time sitting, leaning, and/or lounging.

It’s called Grow Up, a medical drama that I cannot find English subtitles for, and it's been around long enough that I doubt I ever will. But, hey, things like this are the whole point of trying to learn the language, right?

So, those willing to join me in the continuation of whatever this is turning out to be, get yourself comfortable and head on under the cut, this is gunna be long.

For little weirdos like me doing nonsense projects like this,Grow Up is a veritable treasure trove. I mean the man does this in the very first episode.

He makes them put the box down and immediately sits on it and pulls a leg up. And he’s making a point, I get it, I mean I don’t understand it, since, y’know, it’s all Chinese and I can only pick out a few characters, but why did the leg have to go up? He could’ve sprawled, done a bit of manspreading that I know he is fully capable of after watching this. But no. Leg up. Only one foot may touch the floor.

So, yeah, it’s a treasure trove of sittings and leanings and loungings. Even though his character, Xie Nanxiang, is technically only a ‘support role’, I’ve still managed to gather about 70 screenshots, and that doesn’t actually catalogue every time he sits, leans, and lounges.

I was going to try and whittle the screenshots down, but I couldn’t bring myself to really do it. I think I managed to cut about three? So when I say this is going to be long, I mean it’s going to be long and pretty image heavy.

I have however made attempts at organisation. So instead of just a random array of images, I’m going to group them under sets...that’s filming sets, not position sets.

We’ll start off with the nurse’s station/desk. You know those tall desks you get on wards? Yeah, if they were on that set then it was pretty much guaranteed Bai Yu would be leaning on it. And if he wasn’t leaning on it initally, then he would be by the end.

I didn’t take a screenshot every time he leaned, I managed to rein my madness in enough to not do that at least, but I’ve catalogued the different kinds of lean.

The first is the common arms crossed lean, which, I will grant you, makes sense to use, considering I don’t know anyone who hasn’t leant on this kind of desk like this.

The second is the single arm lean. He didn’t need to lean here. Would’ve been fine to stand. But this is Bai Yu we’re talking about. So lean he did.

Third is the casual backwards lean. He probably shouldn’t be leaning here. I’m fairly certain that’s one of the chaps they refer to as Laoshi talking to them. Everyone else is standing respectfully. Bai Yu? Nah mate, Imma lean.

And lastly - if a surface is at butt leaning height, Bai Yu will take advantage.

Something I’ve noticed while watching this (and bear in mind I skipped most of the non-Bai Yu parts), more often than not, Bai Yu is the only one to be leaning/sitting/whatever posture he’s taking. It’s kinda fascinating.

The next set is the hospital in general, so corridors and rooms that aren’t the staffroom because that’s a whole set in and of itself.

This one made me giggle, because the moment the woman he’s trying to impress left, he practically flung himself back on this bed and got comfy.

Like, did he need to do that? Probably not.

Was that going to stop him? Of course not.

Just as a side note, is patient privacy a thing? Like, yeah, they’ve the big curtains to draw around the bed. But that’s a big window, with no curtains, no frosted glass, and a path beside it. Are you inviting the general public to a show? The lack of cover is just begging nosy passersby to look in.

Of course leaning is a common occurrence in the hospital. But if you put a bar at Bai Yu butt height you really can’t expect anything different.

Also it always throws me when he turns sideways in the doctor’s coat. From the front, it gives him a width he doesn’t have, then he turns and suddenly goes flat, and you have to blink because for a moment you’d forgotten just how damn skinny the man is.

I dubbed this the ‘no help. just lean’ shot. Those are his parents, yet why would he help packing when there is a convienient windowsill at butt leaning height?

The vending machine is also a favoured leaning post, both in sickness and in health.

For the final lean of this set, can you spot him? This is an example of Bai Yu leaning while everyone is standing. It’s a legs crossed side lean.

And look at this. He gets up shortly after this, but of everyone in the room, he’s lounging on the sofa. He could’ve been standing like the rest of them. But that wouldn’t have the same effect now would it? I’m beginning to wonder if Bai Yu’s penchant for leaning, sitting, and lounging is not just him being...well him, but also an indicator of Bai Yu being a very clever man and a rather good actor.

Now then look at that face. Regardless of how ridiculous this Project is, I shall always be grateful to it for giving me the expressions Bai Yu has in this scene. His pouty, disgruntled, get-me-off-this-ride face makes me want to squish his cheeks.

I also find it endlessly amusing that although he is topless in this scene, great efforts seem to be made to keep him more or less covered as this is not one of Those dramas that have a Designated Bath/River/Body of Water Topless Scene.

Also injury and illness counts because he gets to spend his time lying about on a surgery table.

And finally for the general hospital set we have...this.

Everyone else is sitting on chairs and stools.

Bai Yu?

Weird animal toy thing.

He could’ve sat on a chair, a stool, even the floor. But no. He chose to sit on this. How is that even remotely comfortable?

(Still with me? We’re almost halfway...kinda. Maybe I should split this drama into two posts. We’ll see how long the next set is first)

From inside the hospital we move to the outside, because that’s natural progression right?

Outside the building we can encounter things such as the common sprawling lounge. He seems to enjoy hooking his elbows over things.

Then he will head to some planetarium type thing where they have the screen on the ceiling. And, just, I know he’s having some kind of emotional issues, with angsting over failed relationships and whatnot (ok to be fair I’m only assuming that’s the case given everything that’s going on, even though I don’t understand what’s being said). But! Bai Yu, sweetie, precious, dearest darling man, get your goddamn shoes off the headrest of the seat in front of you!

I want to bundle him up in a cuddle and thwack him with a rolled up newspaper at the same time.

Bai Yu and cars.

I’m becoming vaguely convince the man has a magnet or something in his arse.

And just look at this.

Bai Yu, sir. What’s that saying?

Once is chance, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern.

Y’know, I don’t know why, but I was actually surprised he could do sit-ups.

He was doing them before he was interrupted by the girl, then he ended up doing more with the bloke. Of course he didn’t get his arse off the ground when the bloke, one of the teachers/mentors, turned up. Unlike the girl who popped up to her feet.

There is something oddly appealing about the image he makes laid out on the grass though.

I mean, she looks like she’d probably welcome the sweet release of death, and if they’ve just done exercise then same, girl, same.

But he just makes you want to curl up next to him and have a nap or something.

This bar scene...*sigh*

He could sit in a chair.

But no. He chooses to lean on the pillar.

And when he does decide to sit. Does he pick a chair?

No.

No he does not.

The angsty roof, where people seem to go to have a bit of a cry or emotional stare off into the distance.

For a bit of context, this is how people tend to be on that roof.

They stand, they might lean. They have their angsty moment.

But Bai Yu?

Bai Yu is not built for this boring sort of crying angst.

No no no.

He must do more.

So he sits on the bloody wall, crossing his legs over the thin metal bar that is probably cutting off his circulation, while he has his emotional moment.

How did he even get up there? That is not a short wall. You can’t boost yourself up like it’s a kitchen counter. The pair standing next to each other in the context images? The taller one is Bai Yu, just look where the top of this wall comes to. There is no boosting onto this.

So did he hop up onto the table, then the wall, and walk around the edge until he got to this spot for his angsty moment?

*sigh* this man.

Last ones for outside the hospital.

They are, oddly enough, of instances where Bai Yu isn’t sitting.

I know, weird right?

But look, he could be sitting. The sofa is right next to him, and he falls asleep there not long after this. And it would make sense to sit on the sofa, or at least the arm of the sofa because that photo he’s looking at was on the table top, not on the shelf below it.

This is an instance where he probably should be sitting.

But no. Bai Yu goes against that and instead he just crouches. Because that makes sense right?

Then here!

Everyone else is sitting.

He has the perfect place to sit right behind him.

But he remains standing for the entirety of this scene. There is not even a hint that he might sit down in such a fashion as I’ve come to expect from this man.

But maybe, just maybe, that’s the point.

A point I’ll look at more in Part Three, because the length of this would be truly ridiculous if I kept going.

So! Next time on the Bai Yu Sitting Project! Dorm Rooms and Staffrooms! Awkward angles and did-your-roommate-seriously-just-tuck-you-in? moments!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

#Bai Yu #Bai Yu Sitting Project #Grow Up #Xie Nanxiang #I am aware this is something that in all likelihood only interests me #but I'm having fun #and that's all that really matters #so I shall continue with this ridiculousness

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scandalousfemale · 4 years

Text

Ch.2 The Safety Dance

Chinese!OC x Kelce

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Zombies were meant for apocalyptic movies and TV shows where one could binge watch for a day and return to their mundane life. But something happened, a lab test went wrong and suddenly the outbreak started. This story takes place exactly three weeks after zombies slowly started to take over the planet.

Series master list

WC: 6,726

Warnings: Violence, mentions of familial death and murder, THIS IS A ZOMBIE APOCALYPTIC FIC, there are mentions of weapons, we’re looking at someone’s wounds here, fighting, fear, ptsd, trauma, greasy old men being gross, please be aware that you are responsible for the media that you consume

A/N: I want to thank every single person who supported me this far. If you’re reading this it means that you liked the first chapter and you’re back for more! That means more than I can ever tell you because I love writing this series so much. Of course, it does get a little bit hectic because there are so many characters to take care of so thank you for little notes along the way from @rafecameron and a million thanks to @millyelliot for being my BETA reader and holding my hand while I cry lol I hope you all enjoy getting to know my characters a little more.

Waking up in a tour bus bunk was what Kaili felt waking up in a coffin would be like. The space was small and dark, and if it wasn’t for the quiet chatter towards the front of the bus, she’d believe that this was her own personal hell. She’d barely remembered falling asleep the night before, she must’ve passed out halfway through the movie and someone carried her to the bunk. If only so she wouldn’t be disrupting the flow of the common area.

Kaili made it a mission to learn about the characters in front of her today. She needed to know if she could trust them, even though a small part of her told her that she could. She pushed back the curtain to her bunk and slid out of the hole she had slept in only to find Kiara and Sarah on the seat next to the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes to adjust to the sunlight before giving them both a small smile and then indulging in caring for her hygiene that she hadn’t been able to do in weeks.

“The boys have breakfast outside,” Sarah offered a sweet smile and Kaili couldn’t help but smile back. She nodded and exited the bus onto a RV campground. The people in the surroundings must be familiar with the area and faces because not one person looked out of place. She took in the rows of RVs around them, noting that privacy was a privilege that not a lot of them had, if there wasn’t a door next to yours then you were lucky. Maybe it was because no one wanted to park next to a bunch of kids or maybe it was the intimidation of trying to get out of a parking space next to the monstrosity that they called a bus but the few spaces next to them were empty. Of course, there could also be other reasons as to why the spots were empty but Kaili didn’t allow herself to dwell on the thought for too long, willing herself not to get sad about their current situation.

It didn’t take long for her to spot everyone she was looking for. JJ was holding a map, huddled with Pope as an older gentleman stood next to them, speaking quietly and rushed as he pointed out spots on the paper in front of them. The man couldn’t have been any younger than forty, his disheveled salt and pepper hair and tired eyes did not compliment the wrinkled green shirt and khaki shorts he was wearing. Kaili didn’t notice that she was focused on making the guy out until someone cleared their throat in front of her.

Rafe was cooking rice and beans in a pot over some fire, which made her wonder why they didn’t use the fully equipped kitchen they had indoors. He eyed Kaili as she stood by the door way of the bus trying to take in her environment. She stretched and it did not escape her that it was the first time in weeks that her joints didn’t creak and crack as she moved around. She finally moved from the doorway and sat down next to Topper on a lawn chair.

“Mind if I sit here?” She asked though she was already sitting down next to him, giving him a small smile though he barely looked up from his radio. He must’ve been looking for something specific because he went right back to messing around with the dials, switching from song after song until he found the news he wanted.

She ate her breakfast, or lunch, in quiet. She didn’t say much to anyone else and neither did the boys say much to her. It was nice, she had to admit, to be able to eat and take her time or not have to worry about watching her back, though it doesn’t mean she stopped being aware of her surroundings. The storm clouds settled over the camp as she saw a man in the distance and if it were any other situation and she was with any of her friends, she’d tell them that that’s one of the sexiest men she’s ever seen.

She might’ve gone up and made a move had it not been for an apocalypse going on. Even if the guy’s shirt rode up just a little and she could see the muscle on his pelvic that creates the V…or even how his arms are flexed from carrying the plastic bags. Kaili licked her lips and as she helped herself to eye candy before quickly diverting her gaze when the man started walking towards her. Her cheeks immediately heated up when the man got close enough for her to recognize who he was.

The smile on Kelce’s face, though small, proved that he definitely had seen her make eyes at him and if dying of embarrassment wasn’t such a shameful way to go in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, she’d have done it.

“What do you have there?” Kaili inquired about the bags Kelce was holding, hoping to ignore any thought she’d just had for him.

“A couple of trades,” he replied, getting the hint but his smile was even wider now. “Since we’re headed back to the market tomorrow anyway, I felt like it was time to get some new things.”

“What do you mean?” Kaili tilted her head, not sure what he was talking about.

“In the campgrounds, people trade goods, since money doesn’t really mean a lot to them right now. So, say I have a pancake mix with no stove, it’s useless, right? But you have a stove and you’re dying for pancakes but I’m not giving it to you unless you give something back. So, then the question arises, what’s it worth to you?”

Kaili raised her eyebrows at the man in front of her, really taking the time to drink him in. Almost like JJ, everything he says kind of has an edge to it. Even when he’s laughing or telling a joke, there’s a hint of either pain or anger that she can’t quite place. Of course, there’s the fact that he’s sexy but also that he looks, for lack of a better word, strong. His shoulders are wide and he holds them back like he knew he could take on anyone that comes his way but he also has scars running from his knuckles and disappearing into his long sleeve shirt. When her eyes met his hard brown eyes again, she could tell that he had just sized her up as well.

“Apparently a lot,” she tilted her head as he motioned to the bags he had placed next to Topper.

“Not enough,” Topper interjected as he rummaged through the goods that Kelce had brought back. “We need food and weapons.”

“We’re getting food tomorrow from that grocery store Wheezie pointed out,” Kelce brushed off his friend’s criticism.

“And if it’s cleaned out by tomorrow? What then? We’ll be hungry until the next place we can find,” and though what Topper was saying did make a lot of sense, she could also see that Kelce brought back things that might be of necessity. He brought back clothes for layering, winter hats, and a bit of canned foods.

“I’ll go back in a couple of hours, a lot of people aren't awake yet. Talking about trading though, you might want to start setting up our spot. Maybe something good will come to us instead since you have such a problem with how I trade,” Kelce bit back. And as much as Kaili wouldn't mind watching two boys argue with each other, she’d much rather do anything else. So, she excused herself from the friendly fire and ducked back into the bus to rummage through her bag, there had to be something in there that she could trade. All she had was maybe a couple of days worth of spam, if only for a person, and extra knives. She also found four switchblades and of course, her extra change of clothes. There was also a mini sewing kit she refused to part with and the bags filled with medicine that she wouldn’t mind parting with some of her inventory.

As she separated what she was willing to trade and wanting to keep, a little girl had sat down on the seat next to her.

“Do you always carry those?” Wheezie pointed to the knives on her weapons belt now strapped around her biker shorts from last night.

Without breaking from her task of separating which medicine was necessary to them, she answered back with a simple, “yes.” Because since she found this belt and the knives with Wei, she hasn’t.

“Why?”

Now, that had made Kaili stop to look at the girl. Her glasses pushed back against her face as her curly hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head. Then she realized that some people weren’t exposed to the horrors of the world just yet. Maybe Wheezie was protected enough not to see a family member dismembered in front of her. How she wishes she could say the same.

“It’s dangerous out there.”

“But you don’t have to worry when you’re with us. Plus, Topper said the only people on the campgrounds are the living and breathing ones.”

Finishing up the bag she was willing to trade, she wrapped the handle around her wrist to make sure no one could pull them off, “Wheezie,” she said the girl’s name for the first time as she stood, “humans are the most dangerous of them all.”

“How?” The younger girl asked, a flash of doubt already crossing her face.

“Because you know what zombies want. They want to kill you. With humans, you don’t know what they want. They will smile to your face and then have an ulterior motive.”

Wheezie took a pause to think about what had been said and right when Kaili thought the conversation was over, she had turned to leave the bus, Wheezie stopped her in her tracks.

“You don’t trust us, do you?” It was a heavy question that had no simple answer.

“I want to,” was the best way that Kaili could explain it. Then Wheezie nodded at her as Kaili left the bus. The cold wind hitting her legs first and causing goosebumps to appear all over her body. She hugged her arms around her body, thinking about going back inside and putting on her long pants and long sleeve again but honestly, she couldn’t be bothered.

She hadn’t even made it past the floor mat that was being set up at the end of their bus yet when a voice called out to her to ask where she was going.

“I want to see what I can trade,” she said as she looked at Kelce’s face and if she hadn’t known better, it would’ve looked like he was upset. But he couldn’t have been upset at her, she hadn’t done anything to cause that reaction.

“I’ll come with you,” he said and Kaili would have protested if it looked like he was going to give her a choice.

After disappearing into the bus, Kelce came out a few minutes later holding a Letterman jacket with the name SMITH printed across the shoulders on the back and a small bag of his own.

“Wear this,” he pushed the jacket into her hands as he easily took the bag away from her so that she could stick her arms into the holes. And so she did. She mumbled a small thank you to him before grabbing onto her bag again and followed Kelce’s lead.

It didn’t take long for Kaili to get a peek into Kelce’s plastic bag, it was all filled with hygiene products such as deodorant, dry shampoo, and razors. Which made a whole lot sense as to why the trio she met at the pharmacy started throwing everything they saw in their bags.

“Remember what I said,” Kelce all but whispered next to her, “you have to know what your product is worth and how much what you’re asking for is worth. Some people will ask you for more but you have to be smart about it.”

Reaching the first group of people that seemed to be trading, they had set up all of their products on the floor. Two guys with guns standing beside the blanket as if they’ll guard it with their lives and honestly, Kaili wouldn’t doubt that they would. Even if what they were selling wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Just a couple of magazines, jerky’s, and individual bullets. She hadn’t noticed but somehow, as they walked around and bargained, she had stepped closer to Kelce. Or maybe he has stepped closer to her. There was just a level of security being next to him that clouded her judgement, that made her squeeze next to him when someone else tried to step into her bubble. Something that made her feel alright when his arm came around her to move her out of the way when a brute pushed his way through the crowd.

Kelce was a natural at communicating with the traders. She was surprised to find him to be a people person because of how closed off he was in the bus but even now his eyes looked more distant than ever making her think that maybe he wasn’t really a natural, he was just trained very well.

At one table, he traded in canned corn for beans and then whispered in her ear that beans were better because they are heavier so that they would stay full longer and she guessed that made sense in a bus full of growing boys. He’d also traded two razors, shaving cream, and a deodorant for one blanket. Causing Kaili to raise her eyebrows in question.

“People, during a crisis, usually don’t think too far ahead. Maybe they don’t think they’d survive that long but all I know is that winter is coming very soon and we don’t have enough blankets for everyone to stay as warm as we need to be.”

As Kaili looked at Kelce there was an edge to his tone, “and you don’t trust that the bus would take you very far,” she concluded, saying the words he didn’t.

His face gave a hint to smile and the playful gleam to his eyes made him all that much more attractive, “it’s big, hard to maneuver, no matter what Topper says. I also don’t miss how everyone else looks at it. These are just the early days, people aren’t so desperate yet but they will be and they’ll see our vehicle,” she didn’t miss how he didn’t say tour bus, “then it’s only a matter of when, not if, we’ll run into a group big and strong enough to take it from us.” He shrugged as if she should’ve already worked out the equation in her head. Maybe she was too busy enjoying the luxury of the shower and the bed to think twice about it but he was right and she hated that she wasn’t able to pick up on how people looked at that bus at the end of the camp.

“Are you prepared? When that happens, I mean.”

Kelce smirked and spared a glance around them before he brought his hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear and lean in. To anyone else, it might look like he was about to kiss the nape of her neck but he stopped to whisper her a sweet secret instead, “I’m a great shot,” he leaned back with a wicked smile. She didn’t miss how his eyes flickered to her parted lips right before she averted her eyes and began walking to a new group of people who seemed a bit more rowdy than the rest.

“Where’d you learn?” Kaili attempted to regain her breath, she didn’t need a distraction. Not now. Not when the world is crumbling.

They passed people huddled around radios, some listening to the president’s speech about how everyone was ‘all in this together’, it made her want to laugh but also cry at the same time. The people hidden away in mansions with gates and guards were definitely not fighting the same fight as the ones who were on the streets. Others were listening to the news about the widespread pandemic. Kaili didn’t stick around to listen but she caught a couple of sentences, talks of vaccines or having the whole city sprayed from the air were talked about being in the works.

“My father loved to hunt and he didn’t believe in doing anything we weren’t the best at,” Kelce's smooth voice broke through her line of thought and she welcomed it, “that’s how I learned.”

“So you’re telling me I’m standing next to the best shooter in wherever you came from,” she’d meant to tease but her tone came off a lot more impressed with him than she intended it to be.

All he did was nod once, never losing the smile.

“Lucky me.”

A group of guys that were causing a bit of a ruckus were trying to draw attention to their small tent as they pushed a couple of people out of their way to drop the heavy bags off of their shoulders with a thud. She could hear the metal clanking against each other and she knew exactly what they were before the men began to unzip the bags with a bright smile on their faces.

“Fuck,” she heard Kelce say below his breath next to her when the guys started pulling out guns and machetes one after another. She had wondered how many stores or maybe even homes they had raided to be able to accumulate their stockpile but that was a thought she pushed to the back of her mind when she saw a sniper with a stand and a machete that looked sharp enough to cut someone’s head off. She knew that she needed it. One of them would be a great service to the group if they were able to strap the sniper on top of the bus, it could help them with enemies, humans and zombies alike. As for the machete, it would be a better use for her because she wouldn’t have to get too close to her target and that was a privilege that her throwing knives did not allow.

She was the first one to step in front of the men, “what are you willing to trade with?” was her question, not taking her eyes off of the weapons.

“Well, baby, what are you willing to offer?” one of the greasy men with handlebars mustache had stepped before his friends and asked her.

“I want the sniper and the machete with the black handle,” Kaili didn’t waste time as she got on her knees and started pulling some products out of her bag, “I have spam for days, a Swiss army knife, and pills. I have medicine for anything you think you need. Asthma, anemia, you name it and I got it.”

The man didn’t waste time stepping in front of her kneeled figure and putting his hands on his hips, “you know what? I kind of like my little porcelain doll like this. How’s that for a trade?” the greasy man said as he looked over her shoulder and Kaili noticed that he wasn’t talking to her. He was talking to Kelce, as if asking him for permission to trade the weapons for her. Hearing Kelce chuckle behind her, disgusted, her lips curled about to give him a piece of her mind before the man was off of his feet and slamming onto the ground on his back. Kelce on top of him in an instant, his hand wrapping around the guy’s shirt while the other fist met the man’s cheek.

“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” Kelce’s jaw ticked as the man’s friends were now at their side but before they could even touch him, Kaili pulled two blades from her thighs, pointing the sharp instrument at their throats.

“Gentlemen, I don’t think this is a very nice way to conduct a business, don’t you agree? Now, before you get a tiny bit ahead about yourselves, I think that my offer was very generous. If you don’t believe so, that’s fine. We can walk away,” Kelce grunted behind her but she kept talking, “what do you say?”

The shorter man in front of her with red hair, freckles, and green eyes looked to the other one beside her, “Abby is asthmatic, we’ve been trying to find a pharmacy forever and you know we don’t even know what we’re looking for. The name’s all different and weird, man. I mean, I need it.” The other man seemed to agree so with great caution, Kaili looked them over again before sticking the knives back into her thigh band.

“I have salmeterol xinafoate, fluticasone propionate powder. I actually have a couple of those. I have a couple more other brands, I’m not really sure what Abby takes but they come with inhalers. Here,” Kaili gave them the bag which still also included the spam, not worrying herself with Kelce as he was still talking to the guy but at least they were off of the floor now.

The green eyed man took the bag gratefully as his friend shooed away the crowd that had gathered around them. Telling the people that if they’re not going to trade then they were basically wasting their time because no one was fighting today.

Kelce hadn’t mentioned standing up for her the entire time that they had looked around for more supplies and she didn’t bring it up. Not even when he glared at the man in front of her when she wanted to trade one of her throwing knives for a power drill. Yes, it was completely useless to the man selling it but for her, it was the only way to attach the sniper to the top of the bus.

After a couple of rounds to some other families, they’d finally made it back to Topper packing back up.

“What the fuck?” he looked at them with wide eyes as he saw the new found weapons.

“Is this not what you asked for?” Kelce said, already defensive but he was quickly distracted when he saw what Topper and Kiara was putting away, “how’d you manage that?” he pointed to the soggy used-to-be-frozen pizza in Kiara’s hands and something that might have looked like it used to be ground meat, Kaili wasn’t sure.

Dinner wasn’t half as bad as she assumed it would be but, then again, she wasn’t one to be picky. Earlier, when Kiara was fixing dinner with JJ, Kiara had the help of Rafe to put up the sniper on the rooftop and she was quite proud of the purchase, if she did say so herself. Rafe was also kind enough to praise her a whole total of one time. She must’ve been getting through to him.

“Hey,” Kelce nudged her with his leg as she shoved half a piece of kiwi in her mouth, courtesy of Sarah. She learned it’s best to just not ask anyone where they got anything and appreciate that they were willing to share it with her.

“If you teach me some of that first aid stuff, I’ll teach you how to shoot.”

“Wait,” Kiara squeezed her way into the spot in front of them, “teach me, too. I can teach you literally anything you need to know about cooking or mixing pre cooked food.”

“You guys know I’d teach you this without expecting anything in return, right?”

“Don’t,” Kelce advised, carelessly grabbing onto Kaili’s knee as he spoke, “don’t do anyone any favors without something in return. Including us.”

Kaili kept her eyes on Kelce’s hand until he pulled away from her, her eyebrows arched in question.

“What Kelce means in ‘rich people mentality speak’ is that if we can offer you something in return, you should take it. Like his jacket,” Pope pointed out and though his words could have been taken as a snarky response, she didn’t take it like that. She also chose to ignore his latter statement.

“What I meant was what I said,” Kelce refuted.

“Well, what you said came off kind of gross,” Kiara sided with Pope as she rolled her eyes.

“Good thing I wasn’t talking to you though, isn’t it?” Kelce’s voice stern but collected and Kaili could see it now. He didn’t have the air of a free spirited person the way that JJ, Pope, Kiara, and John B did. He was more put together in a way that he felt he always had to present himself. That brought her back to what Pope had just called him, rich. Of course, she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t seen it before. The way it was so easy for him to talk to strangers in such a charismatic way that it almost seemed practiced. Instilled. He was rich and that meant that his friends, on their own side of the firepit, Topper and Rafe, had to have been rich as well. Not like it mattered anymore, as Kelce said, money doesn’t get you much in the streets.

“Okay,” Kaili announced when Kiara made a move towards Kelce, “so I can teach you both, or all of you, first aid but I refuse to do it if it’s inflicted from one person to the other. So, stop getting at each other’s throats.” With a nod, Kiara had a triumphant smile as she plopped herself down beside Pope and JJ.

Feeling Kelce’s eyes still on her, she shrugged, “what?” but Kelce didn’t respond. He just shook his head at her, a small smirk on his lips.

Kaili was about to head inside to see how Sarah and John B were doing when the man that JJ and Pope were talking to earlier today came towards them with a map. The middle aged man looked like he was about either about to flee or pass out at any moment by the way that he was fidgeting and looking over his shoulder. Kaili definitely didn’t like that. A man who looked like he was running from another kind of demon. He wiped the back of his palm across his sweating forehead even if it was one of the colder nights that South Carolina has seen this past week. A part of her wanted to reach out to the man and tell him that he doesn’t have to worry about looking back as long as she was in front of him but another part, told her that he might’ve just brought trouble to her door step and she didn’t want to comfort that.

Pope had motioned Kiara to get up and follow him inside of the bus, a small act that Kaili caught.

“I found the map,” the older man said, JJ immediately moving next to him as he laid the map close to the fire, the only thing illuminating any of them on this dark night. She’d found herself moving closer to what seemed like a torn up and taped map of the United States, red and blue markers decorated the paper with lines and x’s. She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at though.

“The guys, the military, man. They’re just picking people up left and right and they’re separating the men and the woman and I can’t have that. I can’t lose my girls,” he was still pointing to the x’s on the map. Kaili cleared her throat as if for either of them to explain to her what was happening since both the man and JJ seemed lost in their own world.

“Right,” JJ said as he looked to his friends and Kaili, “This is Mark,” JJ said without glancing back at the man, “he’d came up from Florida and he said that it’s a shit show down there. Bodies scattered on the street and then turning into fucking zombies. His stories are...something else, man. Apparently, Georgia is just taken over by the military now. They are snatching people up and no one really knows where they’re taking them, so I think it’s time we seriously think about leaving the east coast. He’s taking his family to Canada and they’re passing through New York to do it, he said it’s the safest way and I kind of believe him?” JJ ended his statement sounding like it’s a question.

The blonde boy sat on his knees as he traced the map, showing the group which route would be the easiest but there was an uneasy feeling bubbling up inside Kaili. It’s impossible that Wei and her were wrong but then again, does this mean that they would’ve been doomed either way? Before panic could take over her a hand came to her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Are you okay?” Kelce asked her, eyes scanning her face as if he was waiting for any signs that she’d vomit her dinner on him but all she gave him was a shake of her head before she turned back to JJ who was still rambling about the roads.

“No,” she said as she stood, realizing that she’s declining both the men who were talking. All eyes turned to her and she took in their faces. Except for the man with the map, the boys surrounding her had such sweet baby faces and she will not watch another person die in front of her.

“I’m from Maryland, everyone there was basically told to go south because everything started in New York and though that might not be true, I can honestly tell you that Maryland is gone. There was nothing left there when W—, when my cousin and I ran.”

“You’re wrong,” Mark confidently said as he stood up himself, eyeing Kaili like she was the new threat, “nothing could be worse than the south and passing through New York is the easiest way to get to Montreal.” The conviction in his voice almost made her believe it, if she hadn’t seen the horrors of the states above them herself.

“Okay, so even if New York isn’t the epicenter, let’s say the news had lied, you’d have to actually get there alive and there’s a chance Canada will not let you in. Then what? You turn around and go back the way you came? The plan leaves you cornered and vulnerable. You need to think about getting gas in those states. States I’ve just told you aren’t safe.”

“You think I don’t know about getting gas? We have to stop for that anywhere that we go anyway,” the man insisted.

“Okay,” Topper tried to interject but Mark took a step forward. Kaili didn’t miss that he wasn’t the only one to do that. JJ is now standing, staring at the map in his hands. Topper is glaring at the space between Mark and Kaili.

“Listen,” Kaili took a breath before she continued, “I don’t have a say in what you guys do. I was only brought in to help your friend, I’m not dumb enough to think otherwise but I do know that we will go our separate ways if you want to go up north.” She declared. She took a pause to shake her head as the images of her parents clouded her mind, “I can’t go back there.” She softly whispered.

“Then it’s settled,” Mark spoke, his speech hurried as he took the map back from JJ, “leave the girl before she gets you killed and take my advice. Go north,” he gave JJ a quick nod and made his way back to his family.

The silence that he left behind would’ve made anyone else uncomfortable but not when she was lost in her head. She just wanted the flashbacks to stop.

Topper gave a quick nod to the guys and walked back into the bus, along with Rafe, probably going to talk about the best way to leave her behind, she assumed.

“How many?” JJ asked suddenly as he sat in front of her and Kelce was still beside her. Feeling a bit uncomfortable that she’s the last one standing, she reclaimed her seat.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How many people have you lost, or watched die, however you want to put it?” And the question squeezed her chest tightly. She didn’t want to think about it but it was all she could think about as she dug her nails into the part of her thighs that were exposed.

“Five, that I know,” she said with an exhale, “my parents first, they were...eating my aunt and uncle in law. Then I lost my little cousin three days ago. She was barely sixteen,” tears swarming her eyes as she squeezed her leg tighter.

JJ nodded in understanding, “I lost my dad,” he said as if the memory doesn’t affect him but the strain in his voice gave him away, “he was an asshole but it still hurt. He’s actually the first zombie I saw. I thought he was high as fuck again when he came at me but then he didn’t stop. Even when I broke his arms. So, yeah, I killed my dad. How’s that for fucked up?” He released a humorless laugh.

“I lost my parents,” Kelce said next, his voice low and JJ winced as if he had already heard this story. Of course, they all must’ve. “My dad had killed my mom when he saw what she had become. She was trying to attack my little sister so it really only made sense but when he came to, he just looked at me and shot himself. He couldn’t take it, I guess. Not that he cared that he’d be leaving two kids behind.” Kelce said in disgust, “and then I told my sister to stay close, stay next to me so I can protect her. I told her that it was the only way to make sure that she was safe but when we got to the ferry for the mainland she wouldn’t stop crying and crying about her friends. I mean, I get it. She’s thirteen and she cares about them, too, but before I even realized it, she was gone.”

“What happened to her?” Kaili hadn’t realized that she was holding her breath.

“I don’t know. She sent me a text before our phones went off. She said her friend is sailing across the Atlantic, that their parents have done it before and how she wished that I’d listen and I’d gone with her, but how could I have been listening when I was thinking about our safety? You know? She said that she had called my name and that I’d just kept walking into the ferry, following my friends.”

“Is that why you don’t talk much? So you can listen?” Kaili asked.

Kelce shrugged, “when I’m not thinking about her, sure.” He turned away from them both. JJ offered her a small smile.

“See, you don’t need to suffer in silence here. We’ve all gone through something,” and though it was true, it still didn’t make her feel better. “So when you need your space or you need to work some shit out, let us know. We’ll listen or leave you alone, whichever you prefer.”

And just when Kaili was about to thank them for their kindness, Rafe showed up at the door, “so are we done having a heart to heart or are you guys going to sleep out here tonight?” He said. But there was something in Rafe’s voice that betrayed the cold exterior he was trying to portray and she wondered if their little heart to heart was heard by everyone else in the bus.

“I should probably check on John B anyway,” Kaili excused herself, ignoring the grumbles behind her as the rest of the boys told Rafe that was uncalled for.

The energy inside the bus has shifted, more than likely Topper and Rafe had filled the girls in on their change of direction and Kaili’s inflexible heart. She was aware enough that it was probably her trauma speaking when she said she wasn’t going back. She knew that maybe the information could be right and maybe she could be wrong but that doesn’t help the fact that her body was rejecting the idea of even going. Yes, she’d be alone if they left without her but she wasn’t going to ask them to change their minds either if it was already made.

She made her way into the bigger bedroom at the end of the bus where John B has taken up space right now after washing her hands and her arms, making sure that he was going to be as protected as possible. The boy looked to be sleeping the night away but at least his color was coming back and the sweating had stopped.

Hearing someone come into his space, almost as if instinct had taken over, his body stirred and he opened his eyes, tension leaving his body when he found her standing by him.

“You’re looking better,” Kaili offered a small smile as she sat beside him on the bed, asking if she could look at the sutures she performed on him.

“All thanks to you,” the boy said as he lifted up his shirt, wincing as he moved, “I was sure that I was a goner,” he continued with a faraway look in his eyes.

She maneuvered him in a way that made it easier for her to look at the stitches without having to undo the entire bandage on him.

“What even happened?” She inquired and though she knew not to pry, it was curious to her that in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, someone would die from blood loss from a wound instead. “I know your friends said it’s a knife wound but it looked like you were stabbed with something a bit more...bigger? Thicker than a knife.”

“Are you telling me you don’t believe I fought off a whole bunch of pirates for their boat so we could cross over to South Carolina safely?” John b joked as he offered a flash of a smile before Kaili shook her head with a small laugh, making sure that his wound was looking better and not infected.

“Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t either,” he began, “I was trying to run away from some zombies with my friends. They’d all jumped over a fence and I guess I over shot it or under shot it, I don’t know. I was jumping and then the next thing I know, a part of the sharp end of the metal fence was in me, I didn’t even really feel it at first, my only thought was like I hope that Sarah hasn’t left without me—because we were going to her house to get her, you know? I don’t even think that I screamed.”

“He most definitely screamed,” Pope said at the entrance to the bedroom, “I know you’re not supposed to remove the thing lodged inside a person but it was either leave him there or pull him out and we’re not really in the habit of leaving people behind.”

“Lucky you,” Kaili sweetly said to John b as she looked to Pope, “to have friends willing to risk their lives for you.” And this she said to the both of them. Afterwards, she’d gotten up from the bed, John b had nodded returned to closing his eyes and Pope excused himself to the kitchen.

Kaili had washed her hands again, thoroughly before returning to JJ’s side as he put on another movie for the night.

“So, I think our best bet is just going west to California,” Rafe announced to everyone in the bus, sparing a glance at Kaili.

“What?” Kaili asked, confused.

“You’re not going north and we’re not going south. We sure as hell can't swim the ocean so we’re going west,” Rafe explained and left no room for discussion as he turned back around to Topper and right then, her heart might’ve mended itself a little bit tonight.

Tags: @stfukie @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @rafecameron @outerbankslut @thegreatestofheck @starlightstarkey @stargazingstarkey @anxietyandtacos @spideymyluv @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @pogue-writings @bedazzledbanks @pankowrudeth @bricksatanakinswindow @cutiecolbsss @downbytheouterbanks @butgilinsky @jiaraendgame @deathcompass

#kelce obx #obx kelce #kelce x oc #oc x kelce #kelce outerbanks #outer banks au #my writings #LIAB

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poptod · 4 years

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could you do an elliot x reader where the reader describes elliot and what all things the reader loves about him

notes: this took a bit to get out but here it is. i'd like to say now that i am disabled (however I don't live in a hospital yet) and any insult towards disabled people in this is simply selfhatred and not bigotry. kind of strayed from the prompt but i hope you like it anyway :) thank u for requesting

Elliot didn't seem the type of person who would like you – he was quiet and intelligent, like every person who belittled you just because you weren't smart. Because of that and that alone, you mostly avoided him, which wasn't hard. He didn't come to the hospital often, but when he did it was a hell of an uproar. All the patients went around telling about his injuries, making up stories to coincide with them, as Elliot was not the type of person to tell the doctors the origins of his wounds.

You stayed out of it.

Still, you'd pass by his room every now and then the few times you felt like you could walk. Most other times you stayed in your wheelchair, using the smaller break area to get snacks instead of going up a floor to the actual lounge.

Every now and then the rooms would switch up – more often you'd get placed in a communal room, shaped like a large hallway and filled with six or so patients in their beds. It freed up space for emergency patients and nonpermanent ones, but that didn't stop your bedmates from complaining. Most of them were old, and those who had good care were privileged, and did not understand nuances of the modern world. A good deal of them weren't even aware they were in the modern world, and though it was sad to most others you found it interesting. They were practical gateways to different times, time travelling without ever leaving the hospital, learning new things without ever attending school.

Recently you were moved to a room fitted for two people, though for the most of that time it was only you in there. It was almost nice – the quiet, the privacy, and an indicator that the hospital wasn't overloaded. All things end though, and all things change, and one evening you awoke to find Elliot in the bed across from you. He was passed out, the curtain around him drawn only to hide him from the glass wall leading to the corridors. You could fully see him – the cuts on his head indicative of a concussion, the bruised eye most likely a result of a fight, the rough breathing caused by bruising and breaking of the ribs.

It took several days before he woke up from his coma, constantly under the surveillance of nurses who flitted in and out of the room. They ignored you for the most part, knowing you were a steady patient, and that you could handle yourself in this environment.

Your condition, while it couldn't kill you, was extremely unpleasant and often barred you from leaving your bed most days. Now you had little reason to otherwise – Elliot was... interesting. Just to watch. The way he stared up at the television, his fingers tapping against his leg and how the clamp around his forefinger made a heavier sound than the rest. A chronic fidgeter – a bit like yourself in that aspect, but the way he spoke was what really got you going. Rough and low, an almost monotone voice that lilted only in the most dire times. Still you kept your distance, reminding yourself that people like him did not like people like you. Restrained and disabled. Stupid and weak.

It had to be sometime in the middle of night. There were no clocks in your new room, but it was pitch black outside, the only light being the streetlights and cars busying themselves far below your floor. To your left, the hospital halls remained nearly empty. Most nurses and doctors had gone home, replaced by those in constant night shift, a job you did not envy. While you were nocturnal for your own health, working during the night seemed like an awful fate.

No matter – you pushed the blankets off your legs, hoisting yourself to sit up and soon stand tall on your feet. You hardly noticed Elliot still in the corner, at least not until the world began to black out, a cold tingling swarming over your head as you lost vision and feeling in your legs and arms. Only when you didn't hit the ground did you notice him. You felt the arms around you, the touch of warm skin against your freezing forearms, and his panicked breathing against your exposed neck.

"Thank you," you said rather dumbly, empty of any other reply. Wordlessly he helped you into your wheelchair, only returning to his bed when he trusted you were fully situated.

"Be careful," he mumbled.

Those were the first words he said to you, and though you didn't know it at the time, they were only the beginning of the many words and emotions he would communicate with you.

When you returned that same evening after your trip to the break room and bathroom, he was still awake, watching as you opened and closed the door behind you, waiting till you hauled yourself back into bed before he spoke.

"I've seen you here a lot," he said in that low voice that had your heart picking up. Thankfully, you were not connected to a heart monitor.

"That's probably because I live here," you said, chuckling softly, halted only by the expression he gave you. Unreadable but shocked – maybe mortified that he'd asked that question. Many people were. To them, you were glass.

Instead of apologizing, he asked, "why?"

"Neural condition. First of my kind," you said with almost a hint of pride – the first to have your type of disease. No cure, no shared misery, nothing. "Makes me have pain all the time and shuts off some of the networks in my brain. Body too, sometimes. 'S why I faint a lot when I stand."

He thought for a moment. At least that's what he looked like he was doing, staring at the blue blanket over his legs as a silence came between you.

"That must be difficult."

"Sometimes. I don't mind it so much though," you said, only a half lie. "It's all I've ever known. What are you here for anyway?"

He didn't answer. Instead he shifted onto his side, closed his eyes, and went to sleep. A sigh left you – of course he wouldn't tell you. He didn't even tell the doctors, so in his absence you pulled one of the books from your side table, turned on your reading light, and immersed yourself in a story for the remainder of the night.

In the daytime he continues to fidget, playing with his nails or his lips, running his hands through his hair – you love when he does that. You know you shouldn't love anything about him, considering he still hasn't shown any taste for you, but you find yourself admiring it despite that. Beautiful things can exist without reciprocation, and to be fair you aren't beautiful in most people's eyes. You’re broken, but you don't think on it much, and you don't imagine what you could've been. He's a wonderful distraction from that.

One evening he tells you – out of the blue he looks to the side of your head (the closest he's ever come to actual eye contact) and he just tells you. You hardly believe it, believe him, but he speaks as though he's sincere. Besides, you're not here to doubt him. You're here to listen.

"That's rough buddy," you said quietly when he finished. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Who fuckin' knows," he grumbled, shifting his position to look out the window, where the edge of dusk faded over the horizon.

He gets better, eventually. And eventually he leaves the hospital – you tell him as he leaves, pulling on his clothes behind the curtain, that you enjoyed his company. That every horrible thing will have a place in his life, but that it's important to have a place for good things too. He doesn't really say anything. He mumbles something you can't hear, something you aren't fully meant to hear, and then he leaves.

Without a word.

He visits the hospital a couple more times, each time with the same injuries as before, and usually the same cause, but the only person he divulges the causes to is you. Quietly, so the doctors won't hear. Sometimes he sits at your bedside, even when you don't share a room, and he tells you about everything going on, everything in his life, every horrible thing he's stopped, every person he's inadvertently killed, every regret he's had, and he's had a lot of them. He's so broken, so tired of what he does – it's evident in the way he almost touches you. Softness fills his eyes when you smile, and the thought of it has tears brimming in your eyes.

You did that.

You made him happy.

It's worth it for that. He deserves happiness, has a better chance with it than you do – you have no say in your life other than the ability to roll yourself into an elevator and fling yourself off the roof of the building. But he has friends, albeit few of them, and he has work. Hobbies, too. When he talks about his hobbies (which you'd refer more to as hyper-fixations) you can almost see him smile. He gets more animated, he talks and talks and talks for ages and you listen. You listen well, even though you can't understand, and you ask questions in hopes of clarifying despite the fact you know you'll never understand. Again, you're not smart like he is. Not after all your medication.

Eventually his trips to the hospital begin to change in their meaning. He comes for check ups every now and then, and each time he visits you. He brings food from the world outside, new books, trinkets, things that might remind him of you, and each time he plays it down like it's nothing. But you have nothing left, no parents or friends, so the 'nothing' he gives you amounts to everything in your head.

Eventually his trips to the hospital become meaningless. He doesn't even check in – he just makes a beeline for your room, sometimes asking the front desk where you are if the rooms change, but for the most part he ignores everyone else in the hospital but you. It shatters and rebuilds your heart. This man who has lost so very much, gone through so many terrible things finds solace in you. He visits the hospital just for you.

No one does that.

You're a hard friend to have. You can't go out, you can barely walk, every now and then a shot of pain will interrupt a conversation to the point where you're writhing on the floor, pounding your fists against your head or anywhere where it might hurt as the nurses rush in and put you under anesthesia. You're embarrassing, and your whole life feels like a detriment to those around you.

Elliot holds your hand, and he hums. Quietly, and a tune you can't identify, but it stirs you out of one of those breakdowns, your dizzy vision focusing to see his silhouette against the city skyscrapers, the plush of his lips in the fluorescent lights, the scarce comfort in his eyes that appears only around you. To him you are safe, and to him you are his. To you, he is love, and to you, you are his.

Uncommon people band together, protect each other from the world meaning to do them harm, and there is no greater example of this than when he hides himself in you, and you let yourself live in him. A strange connection indeed, and not one anyone else would understand. You hardly understand it yourself, but when he smiles for the first time, a wide smile, followed with a laugh that comes from his chest as his eyes shut and he falls back in his chair – you hardly feel your pain. It's just him.

It's just him, and nothing else needs to exist.

#elliot alderson x reader #Elliot Alderson #mr robot

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isabilightwood · 3 years

Text

The Problem with Authority - Chapter 4

Or, Sacrifice Summon! Jiang Yanli is here to make things right, be the ultimate big sister (step 1: bring back her dead brother), and maybe steal the Peacock throne in the process

[AO3][1][2][3]

“A -Su ! I’m so sorry!” Lan Xichen grasped her hands to pull her to her feet. “I wanted to give you a gift, not a bump on the head.”

He was flushed, his eyes bright and manic, his forehead ribbon dangling around his neck. His soft gray geometric patterned outer robe was hanging off one shoulder, revealing the pale blue inner robe beneath. Jiang Yanli felt strangely like she should offer to give him his privacy.

Though they were outside. In the courtyard of her house.

Jiang Yanli felt entirely uninjured, but perhaps she had hit her head after all, and was merely hallucinating the impossibility of a discomposed and rumpled Lan Xichen. “Lan-zongzhu…?”

“Erge, wait!” Jin Guangyao sprinted towards them from the direction of the guest rooms. He stumbled to a halt, doubled over and panting. “You shouldn’t talk to anyone while you’re drunk, remember? Let’s not repeat the Moling incident. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He grabbed Lan Xichen’s wrist and tugged, but the taller man didn’t budge.

“But I haven’t given A-Su her thank you gift yet.” Lan Xichen looked around, wide eyed and innocent. “Where did the rabbits go?”

Jin Guangyao sighed loudly. “We don’t have rabbits here, Erge. This is Lanling, not the Cloud Recesses.”

“But rabbits are the best gift. Wangji and A-Yuan both think so.” Lan Xichen pouted for a moment, then perked up. “Someone must have rabbits in town.”

Jin Guangyao’s face convulsed.

Lan Xichen nodded decisively. Dropping his sword so it hovered in the air, he tried to climb onto it. Combined with the alcohol, Jin Guangyao pulling on his sleeve was enough to unbalance him, so he fell backwards into his lover’s chest. Jin Guangyao stumbled backwards, but managed to hold him up.

Lan Xichen hummed, tugging on his arms to pull him closer. He seemed to have entirely forgotten his goal, content to remain where he was.

Stymied in his efforts to steal his lover away with minimum embarrassment, Jin Guangyao turned his head towards her. “Erge overindulged by mistake, my apologies. I will get him to his rooms — my rooms, I suppose, shortly.”

“None needed. I was merely startled.” Startled, yes, but also having the time of her life. Doubly so, considering the incoherent gibberish of Qin Su’s thoughts.

“Erge, it’s nearly midnight. You wouldn’t want your uncle to know you stayed up past nine, would you?”

“But Shufu is in the Cloud Recesses. He doesn’t like crowds.” Lan Xichen said as though revealing a great secret. “Wangji is somewhere in Qishan. He doesn’t like crowds either.”

“I could always write him a letter. ‘Lan-Xiansheng, I am sorry to inform you that Lan-zongzhu has taken liberties with the disciplines. Please have him copy the rules with the novices for the next month.’”

“A-Yao, you wouldn’t.” Lan Xichen let his head loll back against Jin Guangyao’s shoulder - somehow without tipping the shorter man over — and stuck out his bottom lip.

“I wouldn’t.” Jin Guangyao confirmed, his expression turning ridiculously sappy. “Please come back with me anyway?”

“But I haven’t thanked A-Su properly yet!” Lan Xichen grasped her hands and squeezed tightly, earnestly shaking them up and down. “Thank you, A-Su! I will take good care of our A-Yao.”

She doubted Lan Xichen would ever have mentioned it, if he wasn’t drunk.

“My deepest apologies for this.” Jin Guangyao grimaced, his cheeks flushed pink. He turned to face Lan Xichen, cupping the back of his neck and stroking the front of his throat with his thumb. “I’ve arranged to have dessert delivered to my room. I’ll feed it to you, if you’re good.”

Lan Xichen perked up, dropping her hands and —thankfully — dragged him away before she and Qin Su could be subjected to anymore unwanted details of their relationship.

As they vanished from sight, headed for a discrete side entrance to Jin Guangyao’s room, Jiang Yanli felt a twinge of guilt. Lan Xichen did not deserve to be shackled to a man who had killed his own son.

But she did not feel as much guilt as she would have liked to.

Because she had told Lan Xichen the truth, and he had chosen to do nothing.

Jiang Yanli had gone to him after she learned what she’d slept through in the aftermath of A-Xian’s defection, after Luo Qingyang left the sect and Lan Wangji slipped away unnoticed. After A-Cheng left for the Burial Mounds without her. “A-Xian did not do this unprovoked. The Wen siblings saved our lives, at great risk to their own.”

He smiled in appeasement. “Be that as it may, he killed the guards, and took away all the prisoners. You must understand what this looks like.”

Jiang Yanli’s patience had been hanging by a thread, and the patronizing you must understand snapped it. “I remember starving, terrified, dirty prisoners dressed in rags being used as target practice.” She laughed, a short, crazed thing too like A-Xian’s. “Oh, but you prefer to forget things that might upset your precious peace. Even if it dooms innocents, or breaks your brother’s heart.”

Lan Xichen stared at her, and Jiang Yanli remembered she was supposed to be the level-headed, soft-spoken one. No matter how little she felt it. “My apologies, that was uncalled for. It is simply that my brother cannot do anything, without your support.

But Lan Xichen only shook his head regretfully. “Both my sworn brothers have sworn to me that only dangerous prisoners were confined to the camp. I’m sorry, Jiang-guniang, but I cannot.”

Lan Xichen had not believed her. And perhaps he had doomed A-Xian. Perhaps it would have changed nothing. But for what she had done — was doing — to Lan Xichen, she clung to her rationalizations.

What just happened? Qin Su asked.

We just experienced the reason why Lans are forbidden to drink. Strange that Lan Xichen would get drunk like that, though. Thanks to A-Xian, she knew the Lan’s rule about alcohol was really because of the main clan’s low tolerance, but —

But I’ve seen him drink before. Qin Su’s confusion was like bubbles popping on surface of her mind.

Jiang Yanli had too. A-Xian once mentioned a trick Zewu-jun used to burn it off, while he was deep in his cups and reminiscing longingly about how cute Lan Wangji looked when drunkenly attempting to straighten his crooked forehead ribbon. Had Nie Huaisang switched their cups by mistake? A prank, perhaps?

Where was Nie Huaisang?

Jiang Yanli pushed open the door to the Fragrance Hall and froze.

That answers that question.

Nie Huaisang swore as a device he was holding up to the mirrored portal to the treasure room rebounded towards his face, using both his hands to force it back to the surface. There was a focused intensity to his expression that Jiang Yanli had never seen before, a far sight from the whining puddle who’d dragged the Chief Cultivator from his own banquet.

But then, she’d never paid him much attention. No one had, save perhaps A-Xian. “Nie-zongzhu. Is there something you need from the treasury?”

Nie Huaisang startled, glaring with a focused intensity that vanished so quickly she might have imagined it, as he threw himself back from the portal. He sprawled inelegantly on the ground, covering half his face with his fan. “Is that what it is? A treasury? I really didn’t know.”

Is it just me or is that bullshit? Qin Su did the mental equivalent of narrowing her eyes.

Jiang Yanli shut the door behind her. “So you didn’t just hide a talisman-engraved device you were using to inspect the wards up your sleeve?”

If Nie Huaisang is competent, I think we can safely say everything I thought was wrong. What will we discover next? Does my father remember my birthday? Has Yao-zongzhu been possessed by a gossip-loving spirit for years?

“I was just curious, I don’t know!”

She supposed he’d never bothered to come up with another line because this one had worked for his entire life. “Let me satisfy your curiosity then.”

He gave an exaggerated wail as she grabbed his wrist. But whatever else Nie Huaisang might be, he was not strong. Jiang Yanli was able to easily pull him through the portal. He stumbled against her, and, as she reached to steady him, bit her hand.

“Ow! What was that for? Are you a dog?” She demanded, wiping off her knuckles on her outer robe.

“You made unfounded accusations and dragged me in here!” He slumped inward, making himself look smaller. “I don’t know why! I felt unsafe.”

Sure he did. “You wanted to see inside. Now you’re inside. Take the chance or leave it.”

He took it. “Well, if you insist. There is some interesting art in here. Is this where the paintings of the Crimson Swan ended up? Tragic. I could help display them properly, if San-ge gave me half a chance. But no, it’s too soon. Half the sects would throw a fit, and Lan-xiansheng would kidnap me for remedial schooling. I can’t go back to the Cloud Recesses! I simply can’t!”

Qin Su snorted. At least some things stay the same. He’s still annoying.

Jiang Yanli watched Nie Huaisang dart around the room, peering at items on shelves and lifting curtains in what seemed to be no particular order, keeping up his narration all the while. “You know, the Wen really had some gems in their collection. This poetry collection is priceless, and yet here it is, tragically gathering dust — Oh, dear.”

His arm knocked into an ornate vase that had been placed too close to the edge of a display.

Jiang Yanli plucked a talisman from her sleeve and threw it, so it hit the vase, freezing it in place tipped halfway off the shelf.

Nie Huaisang turned, squinting at her with an air of smug satisfaction. “You’re not Qin Su.”

Nie Huaisang of all people notices? That’s it, good night. Wake me when things make sense again. Despite her words, Qin Su remained alert and attentive.

Jiang Yanli tamped down on the urge to throw another talisman, this time at him. “That’s quite the accusation.”

“Qin Su would have reached for her sword when I knocked over that vase. You stopped it from falling with a talisman. Also, she never calls me Nie-zongzhu.” He perched on a vase-free table, his hands folded perfectly, but one leg bounced to the rhythm of his thoughts. “The question is, are you possessing her, or are you using one of Xue Yang’s human skin masks?”

“Neither.” She held up Qin Su’s sword, and drew it. “Do you deny that this is Chunsheng?”

“So that is Qin Su’s body, but you say it’s not a possession. Hmm. Did Wei-xiong find a way to permanently inhabit a living body?” Nie Huaisang jumped disturbingly close to the truth with his second guess. “Are you Wei-xiong? But no, Wei-xiong wouldn’t have chosen a nice woman like Qin Su.”

Aww. He thinks I’m nice. So long as he’s just a sneak, I forgive him for the deception.

“I’m definitely not A-Xian.” Jiang Yanli realized her mistake even as it slipped out. She clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes widening.

“Jiang Yanli!” He cried, delighted. “Oh, I have to know how this happened.”

“I don’t know what —”

“No, don’t protest. You’ve been caught. But don’t worry. I’m certainly not going to tell anyone in Koi Tower about you. What would be the use of that?” Nie Huaisang was positively gleeful, and she didn’t trust him for a second.

Qin Su didn’t disagree, but sighed. Unfortunately, I think you’d better tell him.

“Take a seat.” She hung up a talisman to alert her if anyone approached the portal, and checked under every curtain, just in case. Once she was certain the room was secure, she knelt across from him. “You were correct that it was A-Xian’s work that made this possible, but it was not his doing.”

“Obviously, it was Wei-xiong’s invention. His most powerful imitator is Xue Yang, and he has the creativity of a sea slug.” Nie Huaisang sank gracefully to his knees, balancing his fan across them. Seeing him now, a stranger would never guess his reputation. “Now, who is this mysterious benefactor? Do tell.”

She briefly detailed the mechanics of the array. From his performance in the Cloud Recesses, she would not have expected him to understand it, but he nodded along without interrupting. “Qin Su found the wrong journal at exactly the wrong moment. Now I’m in her body, and she lives in my head.”

Was it the wrong moment? Qin Su wondered, and digressed before Jiang Yanli could contradict her. Insult his fan for me, that’s sloppy work. His mountains still look like Jin Guangyao’s hat.

Dutifully, Jiang Yanli repeated her words.

He gave a startled laugh. “Ah, Qin Su has long been my worst critic. Sadly, this revenge business leaves little time for developing my painting skills.”

“Revenge? Does this have anything to do with why you were trying to break in here?” If so, his grudge could only be against —

“Naturally. Jin Guangyao killed my brother.” Nie Huaisang asserted this claim as though it were common knowledge. “He also set up yours, which seems relevant.”

Jiang Yanli stiffened, lightning racing though her veins. “A-Xian? Didn’t he lose control?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I can’t be sure, I wasn’t there.” He said lightly. Jiang Yanli was beginning to believe he was allergic to acting serious. Dropping this on her as though it didn’t shake her entire worldview. “He is, however, the reason Jin Zixuan went to Qiongqi path that day.”

Jiang Yanli could have sworn she heard a dizi playing as she died, when Chenqing was hanging loose in A-Xian’s grasp. But she had been dying — that memory was not to be trusted. And just how clever would Jin Guangyao have to be to plan all of that? Surely not everything that had gone wrong could be laid at his feet.

Maybe we should consider the possibility anyway. Qin Su, for whom all the greatest cruelties of her life could be laid at the feet of that same man, suggested.

Jiang Yanli was uncertain that knowing would do anything more than make their losses hurt more. She sat in stunned silence for a long moment, and wished for a plum to let her retreat and reset. A reply to Tan-daifu’s latest letter was overdue, she thought hazily.

Tan-daifu would say that the truth helps. Qin Su seized the chance to turn her own nagging about Tan-daifu’s advice back on her, which didn’t seem fair.

But the truth would only help if she was ready to face it. Jiang Yanli still woke every day expecting to see A-Xuan beside her, was thrust back into sepia-tinged memories of afternoons on the Lotus Lakes at the distant sound of adolescent laughter.

She would not be ready until the day she saw A-Xian again.

What day? Yanli-jie? Qin Su asked, but Jiang Yanli was uncertain why she’d thought that. A-Xian was dead. She could not simply trade someone else for him.

“How did you learn this?” She asked, finally.

Nie Huaisang looked up from a book he’d snagged from a nearby shelf while she was lost in her thoughts. “I have my ways.”

“You have spies.”

He picked up his fan to flick it dismissively. “Just a few informants. Mostly, we Nies are simply very good at out-drinking people.”

She had a feeling he was downplaying the extent of his network. “What else have you learned from your spies?”

“I just ask people to keep an eye out, it’s hardly espionage.” He insisted.

“Sure.” She said, seeing this was a hill he would die on.

Mollified, he continued. “Jin Guangyao also killed his father.”

“I’m aware. Shockingly, I’m not actually upset about that one.” Perhaps Nie Huaisang had finally run out of shocking revelations.

But no, he had another left in store. “Who is? No, the interesting part is he left a witness. A little bird told me that somewhere in Koi Tower, there’s a woman trapped in a hidden room.”

Jiang Yanli would never get used to having to sit side by side on the Peacock throne with Jin Guangyao. She had been meant to share it with Zixuan, as not only his wife but his equal.

She hadn’t expected her husband to want her as anything other than the mother of his children. Not until their second engagement, when his earnest, awkward attempts at wooing her had turned to learning each other over the course of honest conversations that slowly grew less stilted. Finally, their words had begun to flow like a mountain stream thawing in spring, and Jiang Yanli knew her heart was right to choose him.

A-Xuan had listened, and confided he needed her help, not only with things like courtesy and public speaking, but in knowing what needed to change.

Jin Guangyao, she thought, was so certain that he was the smartest person in the room, that he didn’t notice his wife-slash-sister was an entirely different person.

Qin Su had nearly always sat in silence during conferences, listening perhaps half the time as she thought about lesson plans and inspected the attendees’ robes and ornaments in case anyone had discovered a talented new artisan. So for the moment, Jiang Yanli did the same, albeit paying the debate her full attention.

No matter the length at which Sect Leader Yao complained about issues that did not remotely involve him (Gusu’s high land tax rates), internal sect matters not on the conference agenda (how a small temple sect and town sect on his lands kept driving yao and gui into each other’s territory), or were entirely out of left field. “See! There’s proof! The Jiang have been hoarding the Yiling Patriarch’s inventions for themselves!”

A-Cheng, who had just reached the point in his status report regarding Yunmeng’s taxes, blinked. Clearly used to Sect Leader Yao, he didn’t even get angry, merely rubbed his knuckles against his forehead. “The Jin have all of Wei Wuxian’s heretical writings. I explained this last conference. And the conference before that.”

Sect Leader Yao continued to prove himself the least astute cultivator in the room. “But you’ve never let anyone into Lotus Pier to check for themselves!”

At that, the flush of anger filled his cheeks. But in an impressive-for-him show of control, A-Cheng only snapped, “What, exactly, are you insinuating, Yao-zongzhu? Would you like to share Xixia’s cultivation techniques with the class?”

“I see that Yunmeng’s recovery is continuing ahead of schedule. Let’s move on to…” Jin Guangyao blanched, as he realized who was next. “Qinghe. A-Sang, if you please.”

Nie Huaisang got to his feet, looking around with what she had to assume were faked nerves, clutching his fan close to his chest. He stuttered through the beginnings of his presentation, before swaying and kicking a bird cage hidden beneath his table into the center of the room. It spoke, in a disturbingly accurate imitation of A-Cheng.

And all right, that was entertaining. But mostly, the conference continued to star Sect Leader Yao.

At least today, A-Ling was perched on the wide throne beside her, making it a little more bearable.

Leaning into her side, his tongue caught between his teeth, A-Ling scribbled on each new sheet of paper. Ostensibly, he was practicing his calligraphy. And he did do a bit of that, with messy strokes, but only when he noticed her looking down. Mostly, he scribbled blobs that he proudly declared were all the dogs he would someday own, when she asked.

Black flecks of ink spattered the front of her robes, but Jiang Yanli could not bring herself to care. She’d missed so much. She’d take every second with her son she could get.

Jiang Yanli’s continued efforts to pay attention were stymied by Qin Su’s running commentary on everything from the tackiness of the gilded everything to the dust bunny that had attached itself unnoticed to Sect Leader Ouyang’s beard, taking the chance to say everything she’d never been able to.

It’s a shame I never tempted Ouyang-zongzhu’s tailor away. He doesn’t deserve her. And oh, look, Su She’s imitating the Lan more obviously than ever. It’s almost like he sold them out to the Wen or something and misses the status. The off-white and teal blue of Su She’s robes were at most a single shade away from Lan colors, and the wave embroidery on his hems was suspiciously cloud-like.

The most notable detail of Su She’s presentation was the way the Lan disciples — save, of course, for a slightly off-color Lan Xichen — pretended not to snicker as he claimed the peasants in his lands were superstitious about musical cultivation.

She’d ensured Sect Leader Ran was next to him, and noted the two of them speaking quietly during one of Sect Leader Yao’s disruptions. This time, he was one insult away from starting a cat fight with Sect Leader Tang, over some minor territorial dispute. Jin Guangyao actually got up and went over to them to smooth ruffled feathers, though his efforts were stymied by A-Cheng’s utter apathy over whether his young, hotheaded vassal stabbed Sect Leader Yao in the eyes with her chopsticks.

It’s not a cultivation conference if no one tries to murder Yao-Zongzhu. Someday, someone will take one for the team and actually do it. Qin Su sighed wistfully.

From the way Jin Guangyao’s dimples twitched when he returned, he’d contemplated it.

During their break for lunch, Sect Leader Ran approached the Peacock throne. As she’d expected, he asked directly for a meeting with Jin Guangyao to negotiate terms for the implementation of watchtowers.

Sect Leader Zhai’s approach was more surprising.

“Xiandu, Jin-furen.” Sect Leader Zhai bowed to each of them. “I would like to request a private meeting with both of you before I leave Lanling. Jin-furen brought up some interesting points yesterday that I would like to discuss further.”

“Both of us?” Jin Guangyao was a man who planned everything himself, who seemed to believe that seeking a second opinion meant smiling and nodding and then explaining why the other person was wrong.

The implication that his here-to-fore apolitical wife had made a better offer appeared to have broken him.

“I think that could be arranged.” Jiang Yanli said. “A-Yao?”

He recovered quickly, gesturing for his assistant to put a note in his schedule. “Yes, of course. I believe tomorrow, immediately after dinner would be an ideal time.”

“Excellent. I look forward to it.” Sect Leader Zhai bowed again and turned away, without waiting for their dismissal.

Tempers frayed in the afternoon, and Jiang Yanli had to pass A-Ling off to his minders for a nap. As Sect Leader Yao rose for his actual turn to report, Nie Huaisang made his move.

He screeched, jumping to his feet as though bitten, and bumped into Sect Leader Yao hard enough to knock them both to the floor. The wine jar in his hand shattered, sharp edges lacerating his palm. He stared at the cuts for a long moment as they began to bleed. And, clutching his wrist, he drew in a deep breath, and howled.

The majority of the room promptly began to find their teacups or the nearest tacky golden peacock drapes utterly fascinating. But his elder brother’s sworn brothers were at his side in an instant.

“A-Sang, please. Let us see.” Jin Guangyao pleaded.

I think Jin Guangyao really does care about Huaisang. He’s never going to see him coming. Qin Su said, and they both winced at a particularly high-pitched cry. Nie Huaisang should have been born to a theatrical troupe.

“Oh, that looks —” Lan Xichen caught only a glimpse of the injured hand before he had to let go to avoid Nie Huaisang’s wildly swinging other arm.

“Ergeeeeeee,” Nie Huaisang wailed. “I’m bleeding out, aren’t I? You can say it.”

“No, no,” As Jin Guangyao finally captured the flailing hand, Lan Xichen pressed down on the wound with his own handkerchief. “You should see a healer, just to clean and bind it properly.”

“Will you take me?” He sniffed, his eyes wide and filling once again with tears as he looked between the two men.

Jin Guangyao exchanged a pained glance with his theoretically secret lover. “I can’t leave right now, can you?”

Lan Xichen shook his head. “I’m scheduled to speak on our findings about suppressing ghosts summoned with spirit flags next.”

“Right. Right.” Jin Guangyao stared into the distance for a moment. Qin Su hoped he was watching his plans for the conference crumble before his eyes. “Huaisang, you’ll have to go with one of your disciples —”

Nie Huaisang sobbed harder.

That was her cue.

“I’ll take him to get patched up.” Jiang Yanli offered, already striding towards them.

Jin Guangyao looked around at the determinedly apathetic audience, then back to Nie Huaisang. He sighed. “Thank you. A-Su will take good care of you, please let her take you to a healer.”

Nie Huaisang kept up his whining until they were out of sight and earshot of the hall, though still under an awning away from the downpour outside. Then, with a glance around to make sure no one was watching, he plucked a vial of salve and a bandage out of his robes. He only asked her to pop open the salve, but she took it and the bandage from him, gesturing for him to hold out his hand.

“I can do it myself.” He insisted, the vapid act vanishing in an instant.

Jiang Yanli rolled her eyes. “Bandages are more secure when someone else wraps them. It’ll help stop the bleeding.” Cultivators were always such babies about receiving help.

“All right.” He gazed at her with wide and uncertain eyes. As though no one had offered to help him without something in return, or a fit of hysterics, in a long time. Yet even as she finished tying of the bandage, that incongruous seriousness took over once again. “We have at least until the end of the evening banquet, though it would be better if you returned for that. The house should be near the kitchens, in what looks like an empty space.”

They walked back and forth past the kitchens several times, but found nothing. The hems of their robs were soaked from the rain, the line between wet and dry creeping higher with every step.

“Right. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.” He pulled one of A-Xian’s Compasses of Evil out of his pocket. “Only Demonic Cultivation could hide a building like this, but it must be shielded somehow, or people would notice a cluster of resentment in the middle of Koi Tower. I wonder… hold this.”

He thrust his umbrella into her chest, expecting her to hold it over his head. Bemused, she did so.

“A lightning talisman, perhaps, to imitate the effects of Zidian.” He mused, sketching in the air with his injured hand as though it didn't pain him. “Yes! It’s this way.”

As they walked, she watched him closely. “I had no idea you were so…”

“That I’m in possession of a working brain? Yes, I prefer it that way.” He said brightly.

Being underestimated had its advantages, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.

“I was going to say that I thought you didn’t cultivate beyond the basics.” Jiang Yanli corrected. “Cultivation has no bearing on intelligence. I would know.”

“Yes, I suppose you would. I’ve always preferred talismans to sword cultivation, much less those horrible life-draining sabers, despite Dage’s wishes. Did you think Wei-xiong was only friends with me for my sense of humor?”

She hadn’t spent much time thinking about their friendship at all, not when she was occupied watching A-Xian fall in love.

What sense of humor? Qin Su said. Teasingly, so Jiang Yanli repeated it, earning an insulted gasp.

But Nie Huaisang’s methods bore fruit, his compass leading them to their destination.

From the outside, the building looked like a shed. One of the many near-identical buildings that housed tools or out of use decorations, albeit with an unusual amount of space on either side. But when she looked closely, Jiang Yanli glimpsed a shimmer of golden energy, mixed with writhing shadows. Wards, and made from a combination of resentful and spiritual energy at that. No wonder neither of them had so much as glimpsed it before.

Jiang Yanli stepped forward to inspect the wards in detail. They looked to be designed to hide the building, and keep someone in. Though the details looked overly complicated for concealing a single person, she and Nie Huaisang agreed. Keeping anyone who knew it was there out would require a level of intricacy that risked collapsing the entire ward every time someone passed through.

Their presence would not be detected.

Still, Nie Huaisang stepped through first, claiming, “I can talk my way out of this, if we’re wrong. You, on the other hand…”

When Jiang Yanli stepped through, there was a wave of disorientation, like stepping onto solid ground after hours on a boat. It passed, and a two-story pavilion of modest size stood before her. Far less elaborate than her own, she thought it might once have been used to house servants, before it was repurposed into a prison.

Keeping out of sight of anyone who might look out, they approached the open windows on either side of the door. Jiang Yanli plastered herself to the wall, and peered inside.

She and Nie Huaisang had agreed that if they found the woman’s prison, they would only scout from the outside.

But what Jiang Yanli saw through that window changed everything.

A young woman in linen servant’s robes knelt at a table, her shoulders hunched over as she methodically ground herbs into powder. A text depicting the anatomy of a human body was open to her left.

The woman looked up, and Jiang Yanli was certain she was seeing a ghost.

#the untamed #cql #wangxian #yanqing #qin su #my fic #the sacrifice summon! JYL fic #where the summoner (qin su) sticks around #this time featuring drunk! LXC #NHS's acting skills #and everyone's desire to kills sect leader yao

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novantinuum · 4 years

Text

Contact (ch. 1/4)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depiction of vomiting, this first chapter is pretty whump-esque)

Words: 3.0K~

Summary: The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

So this fic is Steven and Amethyst centric, set during the 2 year time skip. It’s also kinda in conversation with An Indirect Kiss, and explores the idea of what could happen to a hybrid with a cracked gem. Do note the warnings above. The first chapter is the only one that’s especially whumpy. It will be exactly 4 parts.

AO3 link can be found in the reblogs! Support there or here (via reblogs) is very much appreciated! <3

____

Chapter 1: The Mission

The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

His birthday’s only half a week out. Exciting as always, or at least it would be in other circumstances. Unfortunately, the Diamonds are breathing down his neck for him to celebrate his sweet sixteen (not that they understand what that is) on Homeworld. Even unfortunatelier, (is that a word?? He has a gut feeling Connie would tell him no, but oh well), the last time he saw Blue Diamond face-to-face, she mentioned wanting to personally throw a huge planet-wide ball in his honor.

And yeah, maybe he’s a little selfish for spurning their desire to spend more time with him, but truth be told, the center of attention is the last place he wants to be right now. He’s already spent so much time in their company over the past year, being carted around from planet to planet, formerly introduced in front of thousands of Gems on those outer colony worlds, tirelessly working to spread the news of the empire’s dissolution day in and day out. He’s tired. He misses his friends. He craves the privacy of his home, where he’s not constantly flanked by the volunteer guard when he so much as moves to fetch a midnight snack. More than anything, he needs familiarity. He wants to celebrate his birthday on Earth— like he always has— guilt-free.

Which is why it sucks that Blue didn’t take his gentle turn-down well.

“Seriously, and then she made you cry again?!” Amethyst spits out, kicking a rock as they tromp through the dense woods. “I thought you said she was getting better with that!”

“She is,” he says, and ducks to clear a low branch. “This is the first time she’s done it in like, five months. Growth isn’t always linear, y’know? And I get it, I do. They just wanna spend time with me, wanna learn more about all the human stuff that makes me who I am. That’s fine! I just...”

Steven sighs softly and pauses to lean against a sturdy tree trunk, puffy moss coating its entire diameter. The blistering summer heat coaxes droplets of sweat from his brow, which roll across cheekbones and towards his jaw. (And in the wake of this, he can’t help but be reminded of that bizarrely foreign feeling, of crying tears that aren’t his own, without consent, without resolve...)

“Wish it didn’t happen right before your birthday?” she tentatively completes, tone softer.

He shrugs, expression guarded.

Her lips purse as she regards him, and she goes silent. For a split second he wonders if maybe she heard something stalking around nearby— perhaps one of the straggling corrupted Gems they‘re trying to track down today? But no, more than likely, she’s probably lost in thought. That’s not uncommon for her, outside the heat of the moment. Even though she has the reputation of being the most impulsive of the four of them, there’s a clear deliberateness about her nature that often goes unstated. Her actions and words may be blunt, but when it really matters she does stack a lot of intent behind them.

Heh. She’s the mature one, alright.

“What did you tell her? Specifically?” she asks after a brief pause, peering at him with a careful eye.

He squints, grasping to remember the fine details of what he said. “Just... that I normally spend my birthday with all of you here on Earth, and after all the nonstop planet touring kinda, maybe wanted to take some time alone?”

Amethyst nods, giving a sharp bark of laughter at this.

“Hah! Then don’t worry about it, m’dude! Sounds to me like you stood your ground and spoke your mind. Don’t be guilty about that for even a second.”

“But- it’s not like her wanting me to spend time with them is wrong, so by turning her down, wasn’t I being kinda ru—“

His rapidly spiraling thoughts are cut off at the root by a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, listen,” she says in that unmistakable ‘Serious Amethyst’ voice of hers, which of course means that she’s— well... that she‘s absolutely 100% being serious. “One thing ya’ gotta learn is that some people are just super tiring to deal with 24/7. It’s not wrong to set boundaries with them. All this junk? With Blue D? Far as I’m concerned, you handled it perfectly! And if she wants to cry about it, then that’s her problem.” Smiling, she reaches over to playfully muss his hair. “I’m super proud of you, ‘kay?”

He responds with a weak grin. Inwardly he still has his doubts, but he knows all too well that trying to argue against her when she’s in ‘Serious Amethyst’ mode is like standing on the shore trying to single handedly hold back the tides of the sea. Even a powerful terraforming Gem like Lapis would eventually be worn down by the ocean’s ceaseless tenacity. It’s best, then, to keep one’s objection silent.

So he’ll just stew in guilt quietly, no problem. Absolutely no problem here, no siree!

Before he can let that stew churn in the pot any longer however, a tree crashes to the forest floor with a colossal rumble nearby. A cluster of unsettled birds shoot into the sky from the boughs. Ground shaking under the unrest, the two of them dart to cling upon anything they can— bark covered trunks, each other— for balance. Thankfully it’s over in a few seconds, the local ecosystem quickly rebounding to its usual chittering atmosphere. But there’s now a lingering unease hanging like a curtain over this forest, a physical aura of dread, and despite his best efforts it’s one he can’t manage to ignore. He lets out a still breath. The back of his neck prickles. Geeze, just how big is this corrupted Gem they’re after?

Instinctively, he summons his shield, brings it in front of his torso. Pearl’s training echoing like a catchy earworm in his mind, he steps one foot back to widen his stance. Truth be told, with all of his political service on Homeworld it’s been a while (easily half a year!) since he’s actually used his shield in active combat— but he’s sure muscle memory will carry him through. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. It’s gotta be like riding a bicycle, right?

“You see something?” she whispers, lowering on her haunches. Her fingers twitch with anticipation at her side.

His brow furrows tight, eyes skittering through the visible tree line. “Not yet, but...”

Then, in a resolute answer to the question of the hairs raised at the nape of his neck, a skinny blur of steely blue and moss green suddenly swipes down from the branches at breakneck speed. He jerks his shield over his head in a flash.

Clang. Perfect timing.

(The force of the collision against reinforced hard light sends vibrations up his arms.)

Meanwhile, Amethyst yelps, only barely ducking from the spiked tail in time. She somersaults forward and immediately summons her whip as she regains her footing. In one fluid motion she snaps it at the rapidly moving blur. He grins at the sight.

Contact!

The corrupted Gem— her body long and willowy, able to skitter between limbs and leaves with zero effort whatsoever— screeches at the assault. All four of her beady eyes hone in on the pair of them.

They square up for battle, standing back to back.

“Here we go,” Amethyst says, flicking her wrist to switch the weapon’s tri-ended tip into its spiked counterpart. “Keep me covered. Whatever you do, don’t take your eyes off the trees.”

With a mighty yell, she moves to attack again. However, the creature anticipates it this time... and dodges.

Once. Twice. Thrice...

Every single lash she tries to land fares the same, with the Gem perfectly zig-zagging out of range at the last second. Even when Steven hurls his shield in coordination with her offensive strikes. Even when the quartz brings out a second whip to the party. It’s like trying to desperately keep hold of a wet bar of soap. The very moment you think you have it secure in your grasp, it slips away once more. Weird... he swears that thing is predicting their every move. What kind of Gem is she? A sapphire, maybe? Surely there had to have been a few other sapphires on Earth at the time of corruption. They’re a rare sort, but it’s certainly not impossible. Not at all.

They’ll know when they poof her, of course. No sense fixating on it in the heat of battle.

In the corner of his eye he catches that barbed tail swing from above, vying to surprise them from their blind spot, and summons his bubble around them. Its surface ripples upon impact, but holds strong. His fellow battle partner follows the creature’s erratic movements rapturously as she recovers.

“Tell me when,” he huffs for breath, watching the Gem circle around them and slash at the surrounding trees in a vain attempt at intimidation.

“Drop on three,” she says. “Your call.”

“Okay...”

Steven steels his nerves, inhaling deep, and focusing on the reliable hum of hard light running from his core outwards. Just relax. It’s all training. All stuff you’ve done a million times before. You’ve got this.

Working off the emerging rhythm of the creature’s strikes, he begins his count.

“One—“

Amethyst’s fists clench tighter.

“Two...”

The creature’s tail slams against the bubble and rebounds once again.

“Three!” he shouts, and throws his arms out, popping the bubble in a startling explosion of glittering pink.

The Gem howls. She’s thrown against a cluster of trees by the force of his magic’s kickback. Amethyst throws all of her energy into her spin-dash, and surges towards her with all the strength of a typhoon.

He summons two shields in turn, working light on his feet as he hurls them full force one after the other, desperately hoping to poof this poor creature as quickly and painlessly as he can manage. She’s strong, though. Incredibly strong— which gives more credence to his theory of this Gem being aristocratic in origin. Before Era 3, Homeworld used to endow the most ‘important’ Gems with greater durability. If she were a corrupted quartz or ruby, both easily poofed Gems, they’d have finished the fight by now.

“Hey!” Amethyst calls as she continues on the offensive, finally looping the Gem’s torso. “All this?” She gives a mighty battle cry, and swings her slender, scaly body over her head. Screeching, the corruption crashes headfirst into the dirt a good twenty feet away. “Is starting to get way too annoying. Ya’ wanna let Smoky take this one?”

Steven gives a playful laugh, averting his normally watchful gaze from the creature for a split second to face her. “You bet I do!”

And that’s when what should have been an incredibly straightforward mission goes very, very wrong.

All because he forgot to be careful. For one tiny, should’ve-been-insignificant moment.

He’s reaching out for a high five, fingers splayed outwards. His gem glows, the two of them so intrinsically in sync by now that he’s already anticipating their fusion.

But his hand never finds its match.

Instead, the end of the corrupted Gem’s mace-like tail swings back around and slams into his gut with the force of a freight train, knocking the wind clear out of him.

Contact.

Following momentum, his body spins a good hundred feet away from Amethyst before she can ever try to catch him with her whip... and he crashes headfirst into a startlingly solid tree trunk. He falls to the forest floor like nothing more than an abandoned rag doll.

“Steven!!” she shrieks from afar.

Ears ringing. Head pounding. Heart throbbing. Veins pumped full of static.

(Inhale.)

H-he- surely he‘s not—!

(Just inhale!)

Black feathers the edges of his vision, looming like a reaper. It’s wrong. It’s real, but it’s all so distant, so wrong. Stubbornly, he gasps for breath. Refusing to let himself go unconscious. Not here, not now. But it’s so tempting, gosh is it tempting. His whole body feels numb and battered, his whole body feels...

There’s a twisting in his gut. His eyes shoot wide.

Oh...

The sensation (again, wrong, sickly and wrong) rises in his throat faster than he can identify it by name, and it’s then that he’s thrown back into sobering reality. Arms quivering to hold up his weight, he pushes his upper body up off the dirt just before he retches. Once, twice, three times- all on quick succession. Ugh. So much for breakfast. His muscles ache as he desperately attempts to recover, attempts to shift his view away from the appalling sight of his own vomit. Everything is woozy, blurred, spinning around him. His- oh stars, his head is suddenly as heavy as lead...! Where’s Amethyst?? Why do his arms and legs feel all tingly and faint? Why can he only barely lift himself up? He gives a keening cry as a pulsing throb of static shoots in staccato bolts like lightning from his very core, his center, h-his— he can’t think, he can’t think, he can’t—

Breathing ragged, he collapses onto his side and rides through the spasms, his every muscle jerking against his command. His cheek sags against the ground once the fit reaches its end.

He lays there in a daze for a good long while, letting his vision grow unfocused and blurred in his exhaustion. From his creased brow, sweat drips in the sweltering August heat, staining the soil below. Conflict rages on in the distant background— Amethyst running solo?— yet he can’t keep track of the action by sound alone. It’s... too much sensory input. More than he can handle, by a long shot. Every bit of his universe now is faint and weak and pain pain pain pain pain, but he manages to shift his arm just enough to slip his hand under his shirt, blindly grasping for his gem... working off a terrible, horrifying hunch.

Shaking fingers find their way to warm crystal, tracing the outer edges, and then—

He traces a deep gouge, running diagonal clear across the center facet.

Cracked.

And with that realization, any remnant of calm he had left flies straight out the window. Another spike of static rips through his body (fuzzy images of Amethyst, 100% hard light body glitching out and unable to hold its shape, pervade his mind) as he makes rapid shallow gasps for air and seizes, trying in vain not to think too hard about what’s physically happening to him.

(I’m cracked I’m cracked I’m cracked I’m—)

“Steven!” Amethyst shouts, diving to his side in an instant. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m so sorry, it wasn’t safe, an’ I knew I had to bubble her before I- ‘fore I could—“

His wide eyed fear silences her even faster than his words. “H- Amethyst,” he rasps, voice hoarse. He blinks as tears begin to slip from between his lashes.

Near indistinguishable blurs of purple and black are his only metric for her movement now. He’s rolled onto his back. A hand moves under his head, stabilizing it.

“Whoa, dude, you’re like, pale as milk! What’s wrong? Did you get hurt?? Can’t you heal it?”

He somehow manages to push coherent words through his warbling cries. “I, I- I dunno, I’m c- cracked, I’m—“

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re WHAT?”

Giving no thought to courtesy in light of the situation, she yanks his shirt up to see for herself.

He hears her inhale as her fingers delicately brush against the gouge marring the center facet of his gem. It’s sharp, sympathetic. The kind of reaction only a Gem who’s lived this horror could offer him. Ever so slight, her hand recoils upon the no-doubt triggering sight. He— stars, he doesn’t wanna... doesn’t want to have to make her remember that, remember that awful time she herself got cracked, but here he is, so clumsy, s-so useless, an—

His chest trembles with every pitiful, bubbling gasp as he succumbs to the terror of the situation and begins to openly sob. Hot, fat tears pour in rivulets down his cheeks, but he knows instinctively there‘s no magic within them. Not today. Not when h-he’s... when he’s like this.

What’s even gonna happen to him now? How’s he gonna— Deep breath. This time, he feels it coming. Every muscle in his body contracts on automatic as that awful, awful static tears through his nerves like an arc of electric current.

It hurts it hurts it hurts ithurtshurtshurtshurtshurtshurts—

Amethyst does her best to lightly hold him as he seizes, cradling his head to ensure no more damage is done. When he stills this time the fight’s practically draining from his body. The boughs of the trees above him pirouette like dancers. Oh stars, everything’s... so... woozy...

“Aw, geeze,” she mutters, and reaches to her gem to pull out an object, thin and rectangular, too blurry in his view for him to make out with much detail. “I, uh... listen. I’m gonna call up Pearl, and we’re gonna fix you up, okay?? We’re gonna take you to the fountain, an’ then...” Her words (reassurance, but for who?) grow thick as her glance flicks downward at his stomach again. “An’ then you’re gonna be fine...”

“B-b-but... I don’t think— I can’t walk,” he blubbers.

“Then I’ll carry you.”

“Am- hnng- Amethyst—“

“Shh-shh, don’t talk, bud. Save your energy.”

“I- I’m so scared,” he blurts.

And it’s so true. Because everything is becoming so blurry and indistinguishable, and the more his body seizes the more fractured he feels, and he’s so close to closing his eyes and drifting off now, he’s sure he is, he’s gotta be—

“Steven,” she says, voice firm yet soft. “Steven, common’, look at me.”

Serious Amethyst. He recognizes the tone. No arguing now.

So slowly but surely— knowing there’s no sense in fighting back oceans when he can barely stay afloat amidst the shallows of this river— his weary, tear stained eyes meet with hers. They’re blown wide with fear, with genuine concern, but between the swirls of black and indigo blue stirs a deeper courage: the unwavering gaze of someone who will have his back to the end of the line.

Amethyst clasps her palm against his shoulder, solid and reassuring.

“Whatever it takes, I promise you... I’m gonna get you there.”

#su #steven universe #amethyst #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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