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delkios · 5 years

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Brings My Soul so Close to You (ToRays/ToV)

Please continue to pardon any inaccuracies with characterizations as I still haven't gotten around to familiarizing myself with games other than Vesperia and Rays. Title for Wonders Never Cease by Morcheeba. Thanks to suguelya for giving it a look-through.

(dreamwidth) (pillowfort) (AO3) Title: Brings My Soul so Close to You Fandom: Tales of the Rays, Tales of Vesperia Rating: PG Word Count: 7203 Characters: Flynn, Yuri, Hubert, Estelle, Velvet, Ludger, Mikleo, Ami and Ix Summary: Set in a nebulous post-Mirrage Prison timeframe. Five different looks into Yuri and Flynn's relationship "Yo. You still doing the perfume thing?" Hubert looked up from his book, eying Yuri carefully as he lounged up against the door frame. "I do." Hubert didn't particularly dislike the swordsman but they also rarely interacted, leaving Hubert to mostly know of Yuri through his reputation which... had some worryingly unsaid parts to it. "I thought you didn't care for it." He shrugged, not quite looking at Hubert and Hubert couldn't decide if it was an actual sign of nonchalance or a show of it. "I don't really, but it seems pretty popular with everyone else and there's been a couple I've liked." "Okay, then." He still wasn't sure if Yuri was being honest with him or not but Hubert couldn't really see how this could be a joke. He pulled a piece of paper and pen from a nearby desk. "Did you already have a scent in mind?"

~*~*~*~ "A scent?" "Yes. Your friend, Yuri, came to ask me to make perfume for him- his first, actually -and I realized that I don't believe anyone told you this is something we do." Hubert said, his posture formal but relaxed. Flynn was much more comfortable for him to interact with than Yuri. He chalked it up to mutual military professionalism. "People make requests for what kind of perfume they'd like- specific scents, if they have any in mind -and I try my best to create a perfume to their satisfaction. I will admit that it's been far more successful than I expected." "That seems like a lot of work," Flynn said, "having one person do all that." Hubert chuckled lightly. "Oh, the material gathering is shared with others. Normally I give a list to groups going out foraging or getting supplies. The actual mixing is done by myself." "And it won't be too much trouble making something for me?" "Not at all. Most people reorder perfumes I've made previously so I don't often get a chance to make an entirely new one. I'd appreciate the challenge." "Hm. Where we grew up, perfume was only used by the rich or for special occasions. Even when I was able to afford such things, it never occurred to do so, so I never really gave it much thought." Flynn tilted his head, eyes glancing upward as he thought. "I guess... Yuri?" It took a moment for Hubert to realize what he said. "I'm sorry, you want it to smell like Yuri?" "When we were little, we used to share everything: toys, clothes, even a bed. He was always with me through the hardest years of my life." Flynn laughed, ruffling his hair. "It's embarrassing to admit but my mind eventually came to associate his scent with comfort. I know it's silly but they say smells are closely tied to memories." Hubert smiled, warm and full of emotion. "No, actually. I think that's wonderful." Hubert immediately regretted his words. It took nearly a week of gathering and experimentation before he was finally able to approach Estelle with two bottles of perfume. "Yuri," he said crisply, setting one bottle down, "Flynn," he set the other down, a hand span away. "They actually asked for perfume?" Estelle asked with surprise. Ever since Hubert was persuaded to allow distribution of his perfumes, he'd gotten Estelle to name them. "That's a surprise, I didn't think Yuri liked using anything scented asides from soap. And Flynn always had to borrow perfume from other officers before official events." She giggled to herself as she picked up the bottle Hubert had said was for Yuri. As she opened the bottle, Hubert said, "It's an odd combination and it took me a bit to get the balance right, but I think it turned out well." Estelle sniffed lightly. "It's smells... like the ocean? And something flowery?" "Ocean and cherry blossoms." Among other things to help blend the two scents together. Estelle looked at Hubert for a moment, a slow smile spreading on her face. "Did Yuri pick those?" "Yes," he looked a little suspiciously at her, "why?" "Oh, no. It's just two of the first places Yuri and I went when we started our adventure. We restored a giant cherry blossom tree to protect a village and then we went to a cliff and saw the sea for the first time." Estelle laughed. "Both times Yuri talked about Flynn. I didn't think it was very important back then since I knew they were close friends, but I didn't realize that Yuri isn't the kind of person that casually reveals his thoughts." She swirled the bottle slightly, looking like she was thinking on a memory. "I think he was a little sad he didn't get to share those moments with Flynn." Hubert crossed his arms, thinking over her words. "Flynn's someone Yuri thinks about a lot?" "More than he's willing to admit, I'm sure." Eyes dancing with mirth, Estelle wrote 'Close to the Heart' in decorative script on the bottle. "And this?" She picked up the one for Flynn, opening the bottle and taking a whiff. "It smells kind of familiar." Hubert looked both annoyed and embarrassed. "Flynn said he wanted it to smell like Yuri and at the time his reasoning was quite sweet but then I realized it meant having to steal from Yuri's laundry and it was just such a hassle." He'd gotten caught by Repede of all Nexuses and Hubert had stumbled over his words trying to find an excuse before remembering- dagger and surprising intelligence aside -Repede was just a dog. He still felt compelled to assure him he'd return Yuri's clothes, however. Estelled gave it another whiff. "But you did it. This very much smells like Yuri. What did Flynn say that made you think it was sweet?" "He said that Yuri was with him through difficult times and his mind equated him with comfort." "Aww, that is sweet." She smiled and wrote 'Home' on the bottle. "I think they'll both like it though I don't know how likely they are to actually use it. I'm not entirely sure either of them really understand the point of perfume." "Well," Hubert picked up the bottles, lips quirked into a faint smile, "that's fine. I've been toying with the idea of scent diffusers, I might experiment using these. Everyone treasures things in their own way, after all." ------------------------------------------------- For a moment upon reading the note requesting her assistance at her leisure, Velvet considered ignoring it. In part because she was curious to see how long Flynn would wait for her to show up but mostly because, though Flynn seemed decent enough and Laphicet greatly approved of him, he reminded Velvet of Eleanor early on in their relationship. Though she was fairly sure he wasn't nearly as annoying or frustrating as Eleanor had once been, it wasn't a headache Velvet was particularly eager to relive. Of course, now that she was standing right there in front of him, Velvet really didn't have much of a choice. "What is it?" "I apologize for asking this at the last minute," he gave her a somewhat contrite smile, "but I was hoping you'd be able to help me make a White Day gift for tomorrow." She narrowed her eyes. "Didn't I see you with whole bags of gifts last week?" "Those are return gifts. As much as I would've like to return handmade chocolates in kind, I'm afraid my schedule and the amount didn't make that feasible. But I was hoping to do something a little more personalized for my companions." Velvet had no idea what Flynn's cooking abilities were but the folks from his world- Yuri especially -had been fairly adamant about not allowing Flynn to cook though the use of terms like 'alone' and 'for others' had her more curious than anything. "And you're asking me specifically because?" He looked somewhat embarrassed. "I know my cooking can be... divisive. But you strike me as the kind of person that won't hold back. If you see me doing something incorrectly or suspect, I'm certain you wouldn't hesitate to point it out." Velvet starred at him long and intense but Flynn didn't so much as twitch. "Fine." She pulled her shoulders back, fists planted on her hips and her face was set as hard as the most ruthless military instructor. "You will do what I say and only what I say. You only get one chance at this so the first time you go ignore my orders, I'm done. Understood?" Flynn snapped to perfect attention, "Yes, ma'am!" ~*~*~*~ "I need your help figuring out something for White Day." Ludger nearly jumped at the sudden voice behind him. He turned to find Yuri there, arms crossed and stance as easy as ever. Ludger gave him an odd look. "How am I supposed to help you with something like that? I know for a fact you don't have issues working with chocolates, Elle raved about the bonbons you made last year for weeks." "And if this was for any normal person, it wouldn't be a problem." Yuri tsked. "Unfortunately, Flynn's got a fucked up sense of taste and doesn't care that much for sweets." "...Flynn?" Ludger asked with a slow blink. "You're doing this for Flynn?" Yuri just shrugged as if this was a perfectly normal thing. "Sure. Mileena said on White Day guys are supposed to give gifts to girls and people important to them, right?" "I suppose that's true." He wasn't sure if it actually was. Asides from Kocis and Ix whose relationship was somewhat unique, Ludger didn't think any of the other guys gave their guy friends, childhood or otherwise, a gift. On the other hand, he also didn't want to get into an argument over it. "But why do you think I can help?" "You're more experimental with your recipes than Velvet and they mostly come out pretty good. You might have better ideas how to make a chocolate he'd like." Well, Ludger wasn't exactly immune to praise, especially when it came from someone whose cooking skills he respected. "If nothing else, I can at least try. What are his preferred tastes?" Yuri's expression flattened out, apparently already expecting his words to screw everything up. "Savory. Spicy. Meat." Sure enough, Ludger's thoughts skidded to a halt. He put one hand to a table and the other to his head. "Oh boy." ~*~*~*~ Velvet set down the recipe on the counter in front of Flynn. "Here. The ingredients and technique are simple but the results- when done correctly -make it seem much fancier and complicated than it actually is." She gave him a moment to skim over the paper before slapping her hand on the counter to get his attention. "First lesson: cooking is an art, baking is a science. Experimenting and changing recipes is much easier when you cook because you can constantly taste and adjust the food's flavor. With baking, once it's in the oven, that's basically it. Once it's been cooked, it's near impossible to change the flavor or texture. That means, with the way the ingredients and heat interacts, unless you really know what you're doing," Velvet got right up in his face, eyes deadly serious, "never deviate from the recipe." Flynn swallowed reflexively. "Understood." Velvet watched with a hawkish, critical eye as Flynn pulled the ingredients and dishes out, treating this as seriously as he would a strategy meeting and, while she found that hilarious, it was also understandable. Cooking for someone could leave you feeling surprisingly vulnerable, especially when it was for a special occasion. Even with all her confidence and experience, Velvet still felt that on occasion. She stayed silent and vigilant, speaking up only to instruct Flynn to grease the ramekins more. When he'd done so to her satisfaction and placed them aside, Velvet looked down at the ramekins, going over the count in her head: Estelle, Rita, Judith, one for Velvet to test... "Why are there five?" Flynn paused in measuring out the ingredients, checking to make sure he hadn't miscounted. "One for you, Lady Estellise, Rita, Judith and Yuri." "Yuri?" "Of course. It's a day for men to show appreciation to the people important to them, I can hardly leave out my best friend." ~*~*~*~ After a number of trials and errors- and an emergency shopping trip to restock -the two men were fairly certain they'd gotten a recipe that wouldn't burn while making, wasn't too brittle and wasn't overwhelming. Of course, given the ingredients, neither of them felt qualified to actually judge how good it was. Deciding to stay out of the process for making the chocolate that would actually go to Flynn, Ludger asked, "So why exactly are you making chocolate for Flynn? Especially since you said he's not particularly fond of sweets?" "I told you already," Yuri said, intently focused on his chopping. "I know, I just don't remember you giving something to Karol or Raven last year." "Yeah, well I also didn't spend nearly every moment for over ten years hanging out with them." Well, Ludger had to give him that. Then Yuri added, "Besides, he'd gonna get me something so I need to give him a gift in return." ~*~*~*~ Velvet still seemed unconvinced. "So you're doing this because you think he's going to make you something?" "I know he is," Flynn said with utmost confidence. ~*~*~*~ "What makes you so certain of that?" Ludger asked. Yuri scowled- the one everyone knew was just for show. "Because that's just-" ~*~*~*~ "-the kind of guy he is," Flynn said with a bright smile. ~*~*~*~ Gatherings for gift exchanges on holidays in the dining area was becoming customary, several tables filled with groups chatting and passing things around. Yuri had already given the women of his group their chocolates, each decorated and personalized for each one though they were happy to break off a piece so one of the others could give it a try. Yuri was preening at their compliments. Velvet, part out of curiosity and part to be supportive, helped Flynn bring out the plates before joining her own group. Each small dish had a delicately ridged, slightly tapered cake placed in the middle, liberally dusted with powdered sugar and a bright red strawberry, sliced and fanned out on top. Velvet hadn't even had to give Flynn any direction on it, his eye for detail apparently extended to gorgeous plating. She put her plates down in front of Judith and Estelle, both women's eyes brightening at the sight but there was still something stiff in their posture. "How pretty," Judith said, picking the fork up from the plate but making no move to actually try it. "You followed a recipe for this, right?" Yuri asked, glaring suspiciously down at the plates Flynn set in front of him and Rita. "He did," Velvet answered instead as Flynn took the last remaining seat. "I was with him to whole time." Yuri's glare intensified. "Are you sure?" Velvet glared right back at him. "Do you really think he could sneak something by me? Especially when it comes to food?" "Well, we should at least try it," Estelle said slowly despite her encouragement. She, also, didn't make a move to actually take a bite. Velvet rolled her eyes. "He made an extra and I tried it. I wouldn't let him feed you anything inedible." Yuri grabbed his fork like he was grabbing his sword. "Alright. Here goes." He pierced the edge of the cake, chocolate oozing out from the middle, screwed his face up like he was saying a prayer and shoved it into his mouth. His eyes shot open. "Oh. That's really good." Flynn beamed like he'd just discovered world peace. The girls dove into it a heartbeat later, each heaping praise on Flynn at first taste. Yuri, already on his third bite, paused to slide the package he'd brought towards Flynn. "Here. For you." "Thank you," Flynn carefully worked a finger under the seams, opening the gift without ripping the paper. "You didn't have to, you know." "Yeah, I did. Tried to tailor it to your taste so I don't know if you'll actually like it." It was a seemingly plain bar of chocolate but when Flynn bit at the corner, his eyes went wide. "Yuri, this is amazing!" "Heh. Good to know." Seeing that uncharacteristically soft smile on Yuri's lips, Velvet decided it was best to make her escape. ~*~*~*~ Ludger waited a discreet distance to intercept Velvet. "Surprised to see you playing waiter." "More like reassurance," she said blandly. "That Flynn hadn't accidentally poisoned them." His eyes flickered to the table, then back at Velvet. "Out of curiosity, did Flynn say why he made one for Yuri?" Sensing there was more to it than simple curiosity, Velvet studied Ludger closely. "Because Yuri is his best friend and Flynn was certain he'd make something in return," she said slowly, "why?" "Huh. That's pretty much exactly the reason Yuri said he made something for Flynn." Ludger couldn't quite tell if Velvet was amused, annoyed or apathetic. "So let me get this straight. Yuri made Flynn chocolate as a return gift for the chocolate he made as a return gift for Yuri." "Well," he hooked his thumbs in his pockets, "they weren't wrong about the other getting them chocolate." For a long moment, Velvet stayed quiet. Then, "They're both idiots in the exact same way, aren't they?" "I'm kinda getting that, too." It looked like everyone had or was just about finished with their cakes and there had yet to be any abrupt exits, blanching or chugging down water. All good signs in Ludger's book. "You helped Flynn make chocolate lava cakes?" "Watched, really," Velvet said. "He followed the recipe without any problem, picked up techniques quickly and they came out perfectly fine. Not anything like the kitchen disaster I was expecting. He even did the plating without any help. I don't know what Yuri's talking about." There was a brief pause. "Wait- you said he followed a recipe?" "Of course. I told him he wasn't allowed to deviate even the slightest." Ludger nodded to himself, "I think I get it. Yuri wanted my help making a chocolate bar because he said Flynn has, uh, unique tastes." "You helped Yuri make a chocolate bar?" The question was obvious in her words and, at the face Ludger made, Velvet looked like she almost didn't want to know. "What kind is it?" "It has chopped bacon and ground chili peppers." Her mouth pressed into a thin line, watching Flynn happily take another bite, oblivious to her, Ludger and Yuri's disturbed expressions. "Yeah. Now I get it." ------------------------------------------------- Honestly Mikleo thought the addition of Flynn was one of the best things to happen to the group. He basically took over assigning field and guard duties and helped Cress out with training. It allowed Jade and Leon to focus more on the finance and logistics and intelligence gathering side of things which meant Mikleo really didn't have to deal with an infuriating cryptic or overbearing critic anymore. He was also thankful for the fact Flynn came at it more like a taskmaster than an officer, preferring to ask for volunteers rather than ordering someone for a mission and trying to keep assignments within the person's interests or skill sets whenever possible. A number of Nexuses were or had been part of the military on their respective worlds and while Mikleo's experience with an actual military organization was pretty minimal, it was a relief that Flynn had no interest in restructuring the group into a military framework. Though, he'd admit, the military's tendency to organize and schedule things did come in handy from time to time. There were two kitchens anyone could use at any given time though, by unspoken agreement, the larger one was reserved for those who had cooking duty while the smaller was for those who could cook for themselves so the chef for the day didn't have to cook for everyone. With such a huge group, it was unfeasible to expect one person to feed them all on their own so there were always volunteers to help out in the kitchen. And despite all the work he did, Flynn often checked the kitchen to ensure there was enough people working and was always willing to chip in his own time if staffing was lacking for any reason. Whenever Yuri was on kitchen duty, Flynn, more often than not, was in there with him. It was somewhat surprising, really, given Yuri had be vehement about not allowing Flynn to cook- which didn't stop Velvet from allowing the knight to help her but most things didn't stop Velvet. Then again, Flynn was generally relegated to things like prep, washing and chopping food, getting out tools and dishes, setting things up to serve and cleaning up afterward. Mikleo volunteered to help them when he could, he found the way Yuri and Flynn worked together fascinating. They seemed to have an instinctual awareness for each other, always aware of where the other was and when they were in need of something. It was almost like a dance. Mikleo, conversely, had nearly bumped into or been bumped into on numerous occasion no matter how he tried to keep out of the way. He couldn't help saying, when the food had been set out and the three of them were cleaning up, "You two work surprisingly well in a kitchen." Yuri shrugged, putting some of the food into containers to be taken to those that wouldn't be able to make it to dinner. "We spent a few years working at an inn to pay for board. I cooked, he cleaned." "And did whatever odd jobs the owners needed to have done," Flynn added, taking the dishes Mikleo had washed and drying them off. "Is that how Yuri got to be such a good cook?" "And why Flynn became such a clean freak." Flynn shot his friend a mild glare. "If you knew how some people left their rooms, you'd understand." He turned back to Mikleo with a faint grin, "It was also rather meditative. Not a lot of people interrupt cleaning staff so I always had time to organize my thoughts." "You should've seen it during the rainy season," Yuri grinned, leaning over to look at Mikleo passed Flynn's shoulder. "He'd sit by the door with a mop and bucket, trailing after anyone tracking mud, no matter who it was." "Dried mud is pain to clean up!" Flynn protested. Yuri's eyes suddenly lit up. "Hey, you remember the time you reamed that captain for dumping his filthy cloak on the floor?" Flynn's mouth opened, the beginnings of a justification on his lips when he abruptly froze. His eyes went large and Yuri's grin wicked. Flynn didn't even react when Mikleo nudged his hand with a ladle. ".....that was Captain Schwann." Yuri roared with laughter. "Hell yeah, it was!" He slapped Flynn's back and Flynn closed his eyes with a pained sigh. "I can't believe I'd forgotten about that!" "I can't believe you reminded me of it." "Schwann?" Mikleo prodded at Flynn's hand again until he took the ladle. "Isn't that Raven's old name?" Yuri was still chuckling, smirking broadly. "I'm gonna have to ask if he remembers that." "You don't have to," there was something almost pleading in Flynn's voice. "Oh, I absolutely do. You yelled at him until he went out on the stoop and wrung out his cloak then made him hang it up!" Packing up the last of the containers, Yuri wrapped them up in a large cloth. "I'm gonna take this to Rita and the other eggheads." He gave them a wink. "I'll leave the rest to you!" Then he was off and Flynn glowered after him. Mikleo did his best to stifle his laughter. "He really seems to enjoy pressing your buttons." "Too much, sometimes." He took the last plate from Mikleo who then drained the sink. "But I suppose that's to be expected with childhood friends." "I can understand that. Sorey and I have had our fair share of arguments." "Oh yeah, you two are childhood friends as well, right?" "Yup." With the last of the water gone, Mikleo began to wipe down the sink. "We've been together ever since I can remember." Flynn chuckled, "I can barely remember what life was like before I knew Yuri." He put the dry plate on a stack, taking a portion of it to put into the cupboard while Mikleo put the utensils back in their drawers. "Have you two been together the whole time?" "A little while back we went about three years without hardly speaking to each other. I told myself it was because I was too busy or because of some silly slight from the last time we passed each other by but, I can admit now, it was because I was hoping he'd miss me enough to come back to the Knights." "Was it difficult?" Mikleo asked as they put away the last of the dishes. "Absolutely. Not in the same way losing my parents was or trying to survive on the streets before the inn keeper took us in, but it was a hardship I never had to deal with before: being without my greatest support. But I think it was the best for both of us. Admittedly, Yuri did flounder a bit, but we got out of each other's shadows and grew into our own person." Flynn rinsed off the towel, then wrung it out and began to wipe down the counters. "Introspection is much easier when you don't have someone covering up your weaknesses." His brow furrowed, something inside knotting uncomfortably at Flynn's words. "Do you mean you think being with someone for too long stunts your growth?" "Ah, that did sound like that, didn't it?" Flynn tilted his head to one side as he thought over his words. "Can, I think, would be more accurate. And I'm certainly not suggesting cutting off ties for years is the way to go, but taking a day or two for self-reflection every once in a while is helpful. And, even if something does happen that keeps you separated, you'll realize that you carry a piece of them inside your heart. That the time you spent together and the memory of them has and continues to shape you into the person that you are." Mikleo liked the way it sounded much more. "So?" He asked teasingly, "How did Yuri shape you?" Flynn just laughed. "Oh, patience and forgiveness, mostly." "He certainly strikes me as the kind of person that gets into trouble easily." "True. But mostly I meant forgiving myself." Mikleo paused, then turned to look up at Flynn. "What do you mean?" "Yuri likes to point out my flaws and mistakes. To tease me, mostly, but also to remind me that I'm only human." Flynn grinned self-effacingly. "Sometimes, even though I know better, I expect myself to make every decision perfectly, no matter the circumstances." "So Yuri reminds you to forgive your imperfections?" "Something like that. But also he's been with me through the worst times in my life and no matter how badly I screwed up or the times when I wanted to hate myself, he always forgave me. And even though I have issues with the way Yuri goes about some things, there's no one I trust more, nothing I have more faith in than him." He smiled at Mikleo, something warm and deep that was a lot like being wrapped in the sun. "I figure if someone like him can forgive me when I'm at my worst, then I could learn to forgive myself, too." The sheer faith momentarily took Mikleo's breath away. "That... that's an amazing sentiment. I can't imagine what that's like." Or admit that it made him a little jealous. "Really? Your relationship with Sorey seems quite similar." "Not quite to that level." "You're closer than you think," Flynn said, squeezing Mikleo's shoulder. "You just have to have as much faith in yourself as you have in Sorey." "That can be surprisingly difficult sometimes," he said ruefully. "I know. But that's why you need people like Yuri or Sorey in your life. Someone that will always remind you that, no matter how much you want to give up on yourself, you're still worthwhile." They lapsed into silence, Mikleo lost in thought. That brief pang of jealousy of the bond between Flynn and Yuri- unbreakable, irreplaceable -had faded at Flynn's words. What he and Sorey had was just as deep and strong, just different. And, more importantly, it was theirs. That revelation had Mikleo smiling to himself throughout the rest of clean up. ------------------------------------------------- "Excuse me." Yuri looked down at the hesitant voice addressing him from somewhere around lower-torso level. He recognized her immediately as Chester's little sister. "What's up?" "Um," she said, pressing her lips together and tugging at her skirt. "Can you braid my hair?" Yuri leaned down, hands braced on his thighs so he was eye level with Ami. "That's a weird thing to ask a random person." "Chester said he was gonna do it this morning but him and Cress got called off to do something else and I don't know when they're gonna come back." "There's plenty of women that can braid hair." At least Yuri was mostly sure of this. Ami's mouth twisted, looking much like Ted or Karol did when they were about to admit something they thought was childish and dumb. "When Chester or Cress braid my hair, they always hum or sing me songs and it's... not as comforting when it's a lady." Considering the issues that came up with her exoflection, Yuri didn't have the heart to deny her such a simple comfort. He stood upright. "Well, if that's the case I can't really help you. I've never braided my hair. But," he said as Ami's face fell, "I know someone perfect for the job." When the situation was explained to Flynn, he just nodded and began to remove his gauntlets. "In that case, we'll share the job. I'll braid your hair and Yuri can sing." "Why are you volunteering me for this?" Flynn merely lifted an eyebrow. "Seems fair considering you volunteered me." He noticed Ami's look of concerned and smiled warmly at her. "Don't worry, Yuri has a good singing voice though he hasn't done it much since we were kids. Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable." He hadn't sung much because Flynn used to always watch him with an expression that made Yuri self-conscious. Not that he'd ever admit to it, of course. "I'll hum instead," Yuri announced before all but throwing himself down on the nearby couch, arms crossed behind his head and eyes closed. He heard Flynn ask Ami if she was ready and the little girl's quietly excited reply, then Yuri began to hum. It was one of Ranko's songs, one she said she sang as a duet. Flynn seemed to like it. A few bars into it, Yuri cracked an eye open and watched his friend comb his fingers through Ami's thick hair. From the small smile on Flynn's face, even with the slowed tempo Yuri hummed, he obviously recognized the tune. "How do you know how to braid hair?" Ami asked after a while. "I used to braid Yuri's when we were kids. Sometimes I put flowers and clovers in there." "Really? That sound so cool!" "I also used to help him put his hair in buns and twists, too." "Chester never does fun stuff with his hair and he won't let anyone but me play with it. How come Yuri lets you play with his?" Flynn didn't say anything but Yuri could practically feel the glance his way so Yuri said, "When I decided to grow my hair out, some older kids gave me a tough time about. They'd tease me, pull it, try to tangle it up." Ami made an angry sound. "Some boys did that to me, too, but Chester and Cress never let them get away with it." "Boys are the worst," Yuri said decisively. "They are! They stopped when one tried to put mud in my hair and I punched him in the nose. All the moms wanted Chester to punish me but he couldn't stop laughing." Yuri snickered and he heard Flynn chuckle as well. "Flynn would stick up for me, too. Once, though, one of 'em manage to cut a good three inches out of my hair. That was when Flynn started helping me put it up until I got big enough to fight 'em off myself." "I'm sorry. You have such pretty hair." "Thanks," Yuri craned his neck around to smile at Ami. Flynn was carefully sectioning out her hair on one side. "I talked Flynn into growing his out once but it kept turning into a tangled mess no matter what we tried. Even when it's short like that, he can't do anything with it." "I'm perfectly happy with my hair how it is," Flynn said dryly. "I know you are 'cause no one can tell you haven't brushed it." Ami giggled and Flynn tried to hide the twitching of his lips. "Aren't you supposed to be humming?" "Right, right." When Flynn had finished and handed Ami a mirror to look into, she gasped. "It's so pretty and fancy! Did you braid Yuri's hair like this, too?" A thick braid ran down each side of her head and where they met at the nape of her neck, he'd blended them into one. "No," Flynn said a little wistfully, "Yuri wouldn't let me get too creative with his hair." "But when the girls and young women in our side of town found out how well he braided hair, they came to him all the time to do theirs. Before festivals, there'd be an entire line of women waiting for him." Yuri snickered. "All the guys were so jealous." Flynn just rolled his eyes. "Not like they couldn't learn themselves." Yuri just snickered harder because that had never been the point. "Ami!" Elle half called, half sang as she came in, "finally got back from shopping, did you wanna- oh wow! Your hair is so pretty!" "Thanks!" Ami kicked her legs happily, beaming at her friend. "Flynn did it for me!" "You can do braids?" Elle asked with wide eyes. "My daddy would do it for me sometimes. Ludger tries but they always come out." "If I may," Flynn said, holding out a hand near Elle's hair and running his fingers through it when she nodded. "Hmm. Fine hair tends to have trouble staying up. Yuri's hair is thicker than yours but also pretty fine so I think can make yours work." "He said he can even put flowers in it!" Ami said. "Really?" Flynn laughed. "Why don't you two gather whatever flowers you want me to put in your hair? I can redo Ami's hair after I do Elle's." "Yay!" The girls bolted for the door. "Thanks, Flynn!" After a moment, Yuri sat up on the couch. "You're such a sap." "I may be." Flynn patted the seat Ami had vacated. "Want me to braid your hair while we wait?" "...sure, why not." ------------------------------------------------- He'd been floating on the edge of consciousness for some time before a knocking pulled him out completely. "Yuri? Have you seen Flynn? No one's seen him today." Groggy from lack of sleep, Flynn half-turned to his back. In part to pull out the strands of Yuri's hair that had gotten into his mouth before pushing himself from the bed. It really wasn't big enough for two men to sleep comfortably but neither had the bed at the Comet they shared right up until they joined the Knights. Flynn supposed it was a good thing they'd gotten used to sleeping piled on top of each other long before they reached the age when most boys found that degree of closeness to be awkward. He padded, bare foot, across the floor, putting on a shirt- Yuri's -as he went and scrubbing a hand through his unruly hair. When Flynn opened the door he found Ix there, staring at him with wide eyes. "Oh! Uh... sorry, did I wake you?" "It's fine." He'd worked on less sleep many times before. "Is there something wrong with your room? I know it can't be comfortable having to share a room with three other people. Sorry, Mileena didn't think there'd be so many of you when she made this place." Even with those that decided to stay on the Heimdallr with the Salvation Front, a lot of rooms had to double-up to fit all the exoflected. It was a good thing Yuri had picked one of the smaller rooms from the start, he didn't have to share with anyone but Repede. And now occasionally Flynn. "It's fine," he said again. Before Mileena had gotten around to exoflecting another bunkbed in one of the larger rooms, Flynn shared Yuri's bed. Just like old times. "And I enjoy my roommates." Sharing a space with Asbel, Hubert and Kor was a lot like living in the barracks before Flynn became an officer. It was kind of nice. A few had offered to give him a room of his own in deference to his rank but he'd been adamant about not turning this into a military operation or getting special treatment. "Then I'm interrupting something private." "Ix." When he looked up, Flynn just gave him a warm smile. "It's alright. There's nothing you need to worry about." Ix hummed, gaze dropping again and it took Flynna a moment to realize Ix's eyes were caught somewhere around sternum-level. Flynn looked down at the star-burst shaped scar on his chest- more of a burn, really -perfectly framed by the edges of Yuri's shirt. "Ah. That. I'm sure you understand," he told Ix with a faint smile, "it's better to risk your life than someone you love." His expression went pensive, something Flynn was quickly learning was fairly common on the young man. "It must have been painful." Flynn thought back about how hard it was to breathe, not just from taking Alexei's attack to his chest but from hearing that Yuri had gone missing, that he must have fallen off Zaude. How, day after day, ships and soldiers combing the ocean and shore would report back to him having found nothing. Then, one day, with his hope just a tenuous string, he'd gotten a letter from Estelle saying Yuri showed up in Zaphias, injured but well, and they were off to Zopheir to test a hypothesis of Rita's and for the first time in a week Flynn could breathe clearly. "Yes," he said softly, "but it was worth it." Ix gave a little huff of laughter. "I'm kind of envious how open you are about these things." "Well," Flynn looked over to where Yuri still lay on the bed, having scooted over to take up some of the space Flynn had vacated. "It took a lot of time and hardship to get to this point." He looked back at Ix and smiled. "But that was also worth it." When Ix's pensive look remained, Flynn asked, "Is something on your mind?" "I..." he bit his lip, visibly gathering his thoughts. "I agree that taking on danger in order to protect those I care about is worth the risk but... are you ever frightened about the thought that the person you care about thinks the same? That they'll take on the danger to protect you?" "Of course," Flynn said without hesitation. "If they weren't important to me, it wouldn't be frightening. It can be difficult, even painful, when they take that burden for me, but I'd imagine it hurts them just as much to see me take theirs. And because they're important to me, I have to respect their wishes. There is, however, a vast difference between respecting someone's wishes and allowing them to act thoughtlessly and recklessly." He sighed, memories bubbling up in the back of his thoughts as he spoke. "There may certainly be disagreements as to which side of that line someone's decision falls on." He gave Ix a gentle look. "However, while one's willingness to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others can be noble, I think it's better to protect each other and face the danger together." Ix's his smile was subdued but bright, something in his eyes settling more comfortably. "I'm glad you're here. Having so many unique and eccentric personalities can be fun but also really draining to deal with. It's nice to have more people mature enough to give open and sensible advice around." Flynn laughed quietly. "Well, I know not everyone appreciates that. But I'll endeavor to help out whenever you or any of the others need me." "Sure, just remember to take care of yourself, too. And let me know if you ever need anything. We're in this together, after all." Ix waved before retreating down the hall. Closing the door, Flynn shrugged out of the shirt before brushing Yuri's hair out of the way and sliding back into bed. "Wuzzit?" Yuri murmured, still mostly asleep. "Ix." "Wha'd he want?" "I think the shock of seeing me partially dressed in your room first thing in the morning made him forget to ask. Sorry. Pretty sure he thinks we're sleeping together." Yuri let out a soft, amused snort. "Not inaccurate." He turned his head, not enough to actually see Flynn but enough so Flynn knew he was irritated. "Yer lettin' the cold air in." "Move your legs, I'm about to fall off the bed." Yuri let out a put-upon sigh, shifting his legs enough so Flynn could tangle his own with them. They lay there, pressed skin to skin, one of Flynn's arms resting comfortably over Yuri's waist, breathing matched long and slow. After a while, however, Yuri said, "Can feel you thinkin'." "Sorry." "Don' be sorry. Sleep." "I don't think I can." "Still tired, aren't ya?" "Yeah," Flynn admitted. He started to move again. "But if people are looking for me, I should get up. There's plenty I could be-" "Nope," Yuri didn't move his face from the pillow but he grabbed at Flynn's wrist. "Yer nightmare's bad 'nough you came to me in th' middle o' the night, you need ta sleep in." Then, before Flynn could protest or argue, "Repede!" Almost instantly the bed dipped and Flynn looked down just as Repede settled his head heavily on Flynn's thigh. The man sighed, letting his head drop back down next to Yuri's. "Try'n move now." Yuri shifted just enough to send a smug, sideways look to Flynn. "Don't wanna disturb our sweet li'l puppy, do ya?" Glancing down at Repede, the dog merely stared back at Flynn, amusement clear in his one eye. Flynn sighed again, body relaxing. "You're both terrible." Yuri chuckled, drawing Flynn's arm further around him. "Love you, too." Flynn just pressed his face against Yuri's back, hiding a smile in his hair.

#i've been sitting on this for a couple days #making insignificant little changes until i finally got sick of looking at it #so enjoy or something #fluri #fic 2019 #tales of the rays #tales of vesperia #flynn scifo #yuri lowell #hubert oswell #ami burklight #estellise sidos heurassein #velvet crowe #mikleo #ix nieves #ludger will kresnik

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dodo-begone · 3 years

Text

Beware the Beast

Pairing: Yandere!Philza x Reader

Request: Maybe some yandere!philza headcanons? You don’t have to!

Word Count: 2k

Warning: yandere, swearing, talk about kidnapping, depression (kinda detailed on that aspect)

A/n: I accidentally turned this into a story- i really need to stop doing that. But I just couldn't resist! Also sorry if Phil is OOC. And this isn't proofread. We die like men here. Can be perceived as platonic or romantic.

This man has lived many years, lost so many loved ones. He’s getting tired of this cycle. It’s truly exhausting. You start to care about the world less. After a while, you start to see too many similarities in things, making it hard to look at. So he starts to close his heart to others. It’s just easier that way, for both parties. Saves him from the heartbreak and them from… well, him. He also stops caring for himself. After all, he’s literally immortal. Nothing can kill this man, so neglecting some self care routines every once in a while wouldn’t hurt…

But this becomes such a bad habit of his. He barely cares for himself after a while. It’s hard to find the energy when it isn’t going to matter in the end. Nothing matters anyways. Every action will always prove fruitless in the end. So what’s the point in doing something so... small if it takes this much energy? If a past version of himself saw Phil now, they’d be disgusted. Telling him to just get up and care for himself. Come on, you’re immortal. Nothing can kill you. Just do this.

He’s a mess when you two meet. His platinum-blonde hair was mostly neat, a little shaggy. It was obvious that he just got himself cleaned up a bit. One can only do so much about deep eyebags, dull hair, and lifeless eyes on such short notice.

You were introduced to him through Ghostbur. Phil was overjoyed that Ghostbur was making more friends. Though much less pleased when Ghostbur insisted that he’d bring his new friend over to meet Phil. Oh come on Phil, you’d just love them. They’re so nice! What tortured Philza more than his first interaction with you? His conversations with Ghostbur about you. He’d just prattle on about things you and him did, about how much fun you two had and how nice you were. Always nice.

And you were nice, an absolute sweetheart. But much too perky for Philza’s liking. You two had been chatting for quite a while when Ghostbur silently leaves you two together. Well, you’re chatting. Phil is just listening to you, hoping that you’d leave at any moment. Some topics were brought up; they were mostly some small icebreakers to get acquainted more.

When your past was brought up, you’d always paint this fucking picture-perfect past. So peaceful. God, the envy he had of you, of the peace you experienced in your life- He felt bad for it, honestly, he did. But he just wished he could’ve had even a fraction of the prosperity you spoke about. For someone living in the DSMP, you had a relatively easy and steady life. No war, no major or sudden loss or anything of that sort. A perfect life.

After that, you just kept coming back. Why? Why are you coming back? Are you here to taunt him for the life he lived? For the life he’ll never have? Is some god sending you as a punishment? A living example of everything he gave up, had to leave behind. That’s what he believed, anyways.

That was far from your intentions. You saw how he was in your first meeting; jumpy yet dissociating from reality. An oppressive, glum aura seemed to just emanate him. So downtrodden and dead inside, yet so obviously alive on the outside. It hurt to see him like that, as you went through something similar. You had no idea how long he’d been like that, but you decided that you’d help him in any way that you could.

You tried to make it a daily thing. Everyday you’d go to Phil’s house around midday to afternoon. You two would talk for a bit, but you’d couldn’t help sprinkling your questions in. Have you eaten yet, mr. Philza? Have you had water today, mr. Philza? Have you preened your feathers, mr. Philza? Have you bathed today, mr. Philza?

Your questions irked Phil. Everyday, without fail, you’d come and talk to him. It’d be small talk at first; what the weather was up to that day, some light politics, Tubbo’s new adopted son. Small. Yet you’d always bring up his self care. He was a fcking grown man. He could take care of himself. What’s worse? You’d pester him to care for himself in that instant if he even showed a small sign of negligence. And you’d stay the entire time, making sure he did everything. And then you’d always add “mr. Philza” on the end. It was a sign of respect, yet it upset him so much. But he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was.

Though it was annoying, it got him in the habit of caring for himself. It was only to stop your pesting! That’s the reasoning. The only reason. It wasn’t because you’re congratulating and giving him treats when he remembered to care for himself. Or you petting his wings… Those were only bonuses! He swears!

It becomes more steady as time goes on; you go and visit Phil, you talk with Phil and see if he’s caring for himself, and if he was, you’d reveal a delicious treat from within your enderchest. You two would talk while munching on the food, having fun sharing what your pasts were like. Well, more like yours. Phil didn’t really talk about his.

But he still seems so cold, disinterested. Even with how long you’ve been going over for. Like he’s only listening to what you’re telling him. If he’s even listening. And seeing how he interacted with others like Techno and Ranboo, it really disheartened you. He was so much more lively with them, more natural. Loud laughing and silly little antics. It only took a few small, insignificant depression episodes for your self doubt to finally debilitate you. Though it only really affected your contact with Phil; he was a big insecurity of yours.

So you start to distance yourself. You were hurting and saw yourself as a bother to Philza. It would’ve been better if you just didn’t try to talk to him anymore. He’d be so much happier without you bugging him all the time. All of this sudden, open time gives you much more empty hours. There was nothing to do. So you did what you could; you went out to make or strengthen friendships. It was so nice. You never realized how everyone on the smp was so nice. Maybe they weren’t as bad as Phil was making them all out to be…

Philza was upset the first day you weren’t there. You were such a steady element of his day. You were like the very air he breathed; it was extremely hard to live without you. He never noticed before how much he needed you. Yes, he knew that he really enjoyed you, saw that you were a pillar, a constant in his life. He came to enjoy your visits, but hadn’t realized how dependent he became because of them. It was day three when Phil started to worry about you. Why hadn’t you come to talk with him, like usual? He’s taking care of himself, just for you, just like you kept insisting he do. And he made you some cake.

He knew he was acting odd, lovesick even. His love for you was toxic, extremely so. It wasn’t healthy, yet he couldn’t care less anymore. You were like his nicotine to a smoker; he couldn't live without you being in his life. His everyday life. So after some debating, he finally went out to look for you.

Traversing the nether wasn’t too bad, but still a tedious walk. He was stuck in his mind the entire trip there, wondering where you could be and what you could be doing. Maybe you got caught up in making something. A redstone project? That’d be pretty cool. Or maybe moving? No, if you were, you’d have told him. But that didn’t stop him from speeding up just a wee bit. Just to make sure you were actually still on the smp.

His mind was racing, thinking of any possibility of what you were doing. And his mind eventually hit something that absolutely terrified him; you could be sick, injured, or dying. It felt like the world just fucking stopped. This was a sudden loss of contact and you still hadn’t come to talk with him. So that… that means there’s a high probability of you being in danger.

He ran the rest of the way to the main part of the smp. When he came out of the portal, he frantically looked around for any sign of you. For your house. Then it hit him; he had no idea where you lived. You only mentioned it being cold where you lived, just like where he lived. So that most likely meant Snowchester. He started running toward the cold nation

On his way to Snowchester, he observed his surroundings. A little bit. He had to get to you, keep his eye on the prize. And he was glad that he looked around. There you were, on another part of the prime path.

He was overjoyed to see you, especially doing so well. Soon he came to a stop. Just floored by the fact you were there, in front of him. Frantically he tried to view you as best he could, looking for any sign of injury or illness.

Now he couldn’t come across as clingy or desperate. That wasn’t how you knew him. You know him as Philza; the kind but a mild social recluse. Not really going out to others unless he needed something or he was needed.

So he walked over to you, trying his best to look nonchalant. Like he wasn’t just desperately searching for you a moment ago. He called out to you and guess what happened? You started to walk away. He was stunned. Did you just ignore him? No, you must not have heard him. It was kinda windy out at the moment.

Logically he did the best option, following you. He had no clue where your destination could be. You were going to a different area of the smp than he had been. My how the smp changed since the destruction of L’manberg. He knew it changed, but it seemed so much bigger than what you described.

He didn’t exactly pay attention to where you were indirectly leading him. That was until a flash of movement caught his attention. Snapping out of it, he looked to see what could’ve been going on. Who could’ve been there. And what he saw before him was a terrible sight.

Quackity stood by your side, animatedly chatting with you. Phil was confused as to why you were talking to Quackity of all people. You two recently talked about how Quackity was problematic and arrogant. If you knew that, then why were you talking to him?

Awkwardly he watched you. Not within earshot, but where he could keep an eye on you and Quackity. And Quackity was looking at Phil too. His eyes spoke volumes; Quackity wasn’t pleased that Phil was there. Boy was that sentiment shared. It was tense between the two, yet you still seemed oblivious to what was going on.

Then Quackity said something, putting his hand on your shoulder and leading you somewhere else. But gave one last look at Phil, one that just spoke “fuck off”. Phil wished he could’ve told Quackity the same. To get him away for you.

Quackity’s action sparked a thought in him. A reason as to why you hadn’t come to talk to Phil; Quackity must’ve kidnapped you! Yes, that’s why you hadn’t come. It makes so much sense. Quackity knows you and most likely knows you talk to Phil.

With how easily you tell Phil of the people you’re talking to, he doubts that the behavior would just change. But that’s what must’ve gotten you in so much trouble; you were too trusting, too kind-hearted. You gave Quackity a chance and he was stealing you away, imprisoning you. You needn’t worry dear, he’ll rescue you from that foul man.

#tw: yandere #c: phil #dodo writing #mcyt x reader #philza x reader #dream smp x reader #yandere #yandere philza #yandere dream smp #dsmp shipping #tw: swearing #yandere x reader #yandere philza x reader #c: quackity #tw: depression #tw: mental health

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tobiosmilktea · 3 years

Note

ahh omg requests are opened !! can i request atsumu, iwa, kenma, and tsukki angst to fluff kinda thing where they get into a big fight and the boys blow up on the reader but make up at the end? pls make me cry but also go “💘🥺”,, thank you so much !!!

- 🧋

kiss and make up with atsumu, iwaizumi, kenma, and tsukishima

— m. atsumu

being with atsumu,, it’s no surprise that you two occasionally get into a few arguments here and there

they honestly range from the tiniest little, insignificant things from what to get for dinner to whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza aka things most people probably wouldn’t even bat an eye at

you were used to it considering how atsumu is, but his personality is what you liked most about him with how he’s constantly having you on your feet —never knowing what he’ll do next

they’re quiet funny at the end of the day and that back and forth banter is just another way you two show how much you care about each other

with that being said, no matter what you two are arguing about, it’s always lighthearted and not so serious

that’s why it honestly took you by surprise how atsumu’s typically nonchalant and teasing nature whenever you guys “argue” over something was something you’ve never seen before

very rarely did you ever see this man get incredibly angry and you’ve even seen all of his games where things weren’t going right

and perhaps that’s where the root of this argument started in the first place

dating a famous division 1 volleyball player who is well loved and respected, it’s hard being able to spend the proper time with him when he’s constantly travelling or getting recognized whenever you two are out on a date

you weren’t exactly complaining about this problem to atsumu after he came back from a tiresome and strenuous day of practice as you knew that it was going to be like this when you two first met

if anything, it was just a concern you voiced out that you obviously weren’t expecting him to solve with a snap of his fingers

“and what the fuck do you want me to do about it, (y/n)?” he snapped at you, venom coated his words like tar

you looked at him with widened eyes as a mixture of confusion and utter offense melted upon your expression

atsumu was notorious for using foul language on a daily basis, but never had he ever swore at you and it’s safe to say you like to keep that same energy with him

you scoffed at him, still a bit dumbfounded, “i’m not expecting you to fix anything over night, i was just saying.”

“as if i already didn’t know how hard it is to find time to spend together.”

“so, are you just treating me like an idiot now?”

it was late, you were tired just as much as atsumu was and you certainly weren’t in the mood to argue with him anymore

before you could even let him answer, you walked away from him and entered your bedroom withy a slammed door

you hated going to bed angry, but there honestly wasn’t anymore moral within you to even continue whatever leftover conversation between you and atsumu

perhaps giving time for something this to simmer until the morning would be enough to make sure your fatigue wasn’t blurring your thoughts knowing how dangerous misunderstandings can be

a few minutes later, atsumu enters the room, eyes scanning over your figure beneath the sheets as your breathing subsided

he thought you were fast asleep, but your mind was still awake and racing with the worse case scenarios. it made it so much more difficult now that atsumu laid beside you

he would wrap his arms around you, “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have yelled at you.” whispering in a hushed, muffled voice. you could feel the way his lips pecked at you shoulder then up to your temple

you weren’t sure if he knew you were awake or not as you swore he could’ve heard your heart pounding

without uttering another word, you turn towards him, burying your head into the crook of his neck

you were just glad his warmth was still here

— i. hajime

you believe one of your biggest flexes within your relationship with iwa is that you two rarely argue or get into childish fights

sure, there were disagreements here and there, but most of them were minuscule decisions on what outfit to where that day or what restaurant you two wanted to eat at. most of which would be decided with a harmless game of rock, paper, scissors or nose goes lmao

other than constantly bickering with oikawa, iwaizumi isn’t really the type to get into shouting contests with you unlike with his best friend (most of which is started by oikawa anyway)

because of this, you weren’t really expecting to get into a fight with your boyfriend, and yet, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to him doing so

at the end of the day, you always ended up being the moderator of iwaizumi and oikawa’s loud back and forth banter if things got too rowdy

so never in a million years were you expecting oikawa to be taking your place at this very moment

poor dude doesn’t know what to do

he’s used to third wheeling you and iwa being all lovey dovey, but now that you two were in the midst of a midafternoon shouting contest, he’s completely dumbfounded

oikawa couldn’t help but feel bad for you as technically the whole reason why you and iwaizumi were arguing in the first place was because of him

long story short, iwa was sick and tired of oikawa flirting with you all the time despite only doing it to tease him

you were well aware of this as well, playing along with oikawa’s flirts just to tease your boyfriend

you didn’t see any harm in it as you made it very clear the moment you confessed to iwaizumi that you liked him and not his best friend (who you more or less saw as a brother over anything)

“listen, i’m sorry i was only playing around.” you apologize, throat already aching from the amount of stress you had already put on it

“if you were only playing around, then you wouldn’t be flirting with him everyday!” spat iwaizumi as he flickering a harsh look to oikawa who backed a good six feet away from you two (social distancing king lmao)

you honestly didn’t know what to say as a lump formed in your throat, rendering you speechless. granted, he had a point, but how couldn’t he overlook the way you only had eyes for him? the way you would “flirt” with oikawa they always tended to be backhanded, the way you would always kiss iwa after each of oikawa’s attempts to flirt, or how you would constantly remind him how much you loved him

it hurt slightly knowing how it was all overlooked by harmless teases

regardless,, it had to stop

before you could apologize once more and say you’ll stop, iwaizumi huffs, “just say that you wanted him the entire time and not me.” before walking away entirely

your eyes widened, turning over towards a distanced oikawa who had the same look of surprise before motioning a hand towards your boyfriend, “well, go after him!”

with missing a beat, you ran down the block to catch up to iwaizumi, spreading your arms and throwing it around him as you bury your face into his back

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that.” your voice muffled into his uniform shirt, “i only like you, iwa, you have to believe me.”

your hands that were firmly clasped together to prevent him from breaking out of your embrace was slowly pulled apart by iwaizumi, feeling his entire body turn to face towards you

“idiot,” he muses with that same embrace

— k. kenma

i don’t think argument are common between you and kenma

he’s probably too preoccupied with playing video games or sleeping to even bother starting a fight over mindless disagreements

you were glad that you didn’t have to deal with such burdens of fighting with your significant other, but at the same time, you believed that small disagreements in relationships showed just how much you cared for the other

it showed how they were looking out for you if you were to ever make a terrible decision, and yet kenma would only bat an eye at you and shrug whenever you ask him for advice

in the end, you’d end up fucking something up or get hurt

or whenever you’d ask your boyfriend what he thinks about a specific outfit, he barely spare your a glance before uttering the words, “yeah, looks great babe.”

it sounded almost crazy to say, but sometimes you wished for you and kenma to get into arguments sometimes

not ones so serious it would lead to a significant gap within your relationship, but rather the ones the led for you guys to communicate more

besides, it’s not like you guys communicate a lot in the first place

you first brought up this concern when you came over to his apartment to which he was (surprise surprise) still playing video games

you didn’t mind about his hobbies as that’s what he liked most, but sometimes you just wished he would give you the proper attention for once

“hey,” you’d call out to him in the dark room, shaking a plastic bag in your hand in the hopes it would capture his attention, “i bought takoyaki!”

and to your low expectations, kenma simply hums as he clicks rapidly at his keyboard

your brows furrow as you pondered to yourself, what will get his attention?

“i also brought my boyfriend with me!” you lied just to see if his expression would even change

and what do ya know, it doesn’t. it’s the same focused deadpan on his computer screen, “no you didn’t, your boyfriends right here?”

you were at the end of your rope

“then why doesn’t my boyfriend come over here and act like it?” you hissed, “last time i checked, boyfriends get excited whenever they see their significant other and not over genshin characters.”

now that was a bite to kenma’s ego as he finally pulled his eyes away from the screen and towards you. “what?” he says, confused.

“do you even like me anymore?”

kenma scoffs almost dumbfounded, “of course i do, how could you say that?”

“because i experience it everyday, kenma.” you confess, fighting to keep your heavy gaze onto your boyfriend as he approaches you. “every time i come by i always see you at your desk in front of your computer. you never greet me first and unless i verbally say something, you probably won’t even notice that i’m here.” you voice broke slightly

“i-i’m sorry, (y/n)—”

“do you ever stop and think of the fact that the only times we see each other if from me visiting you? if i were just to stop one day i’d figure we wouldn’t even have a relationship in the first place.” you sigh as you shook your head, “you probably wouldn’t even notice, anyway.”

almost immediately does kenma wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, almost as if he feared that you would disappear if he were to let go in the slightest

he places a kiss on your forehead before resting his own against yours, “i don’t ever want to hear those words come from you every again, (y/n). i’m so so sorry, i’ll promise to be better.”

you melted within his embrace, feigning a smile from appearing as you quickly give him a peck before remembering that the bag of food you bought was still in your hand

“let’s start by eating before the food gets cold.”

— t. kei

unlike the rest of the previously mentioned boys, arguments are pretty common between you and tsukishima considering his nature

he’s constantly teasing and making fun of you, but all of which were just jokes not meant to be taken seriously and you were well aware of this too

it’s probably the main reason why tsuki found himself so enamored with you as you constantly matched his energy

you two were shockingly similar with your humor and your smugness, but the main differences between the two of you was you academics

it’s not surprise how tsukishima is always at the top of his class while you’re always at the bottom of it

considering this, the majority of your dates during the week with him are usually study dates or normal dates that end with the two of you either at the library or each other’s houses studying material for the following day’s test

it was clear that in order to date each other, you both had to have patience

you weren’t exactly the fastest learner and you easily got distracted with things around you that you’re honestly surprised that tsukishima’s nonexistent patience was still up and active

besides, he loved you. he had to understand your difficulties as most of the time you can’t help it, but at the same time his personality was like treading on broken glass

usually he had enough patience to last an entire two hour study session with you, but today was oddly different

nothing was going right with tsukishima’s day and he just got absolutely annoyed with every little thing from a person bumping into him in the halls to a stain on his uniform that you could barely even notice

right now, this was the tenth time he found you tuning him out and daydreaming

his knuckled turned alabaster from the pressure of squeezing his mechanical pencil. he huffed, trying to calm himself down as he rubbed his aching temples

“(y/n), were you even listening to what i was—”

“do you think giraffes know where other giraffes are from?” you interrupted him with another one of your mindless tangents, “like considering how the pattern of a giraffe’s fur depends on what regent they’re from, do you think a giraffe from southern africa could tell if another if from western africa—”

tsukishima was at his limit, “can’t you just shut the fuck up and focus for five minutes, (y/n)?” he shouts at you, “i swear, you wouldn’t be failing if you just listened for once.”

he huffs out in annoyance, completely ignoring the way the brightness in your expression fell into a frown

you weren’t mad as you honestly couldn’t blame him. having learning difficulties and a short attention span was burdening you boyfriend so much that he isn’t even obligated to be doing this for you

he was sacrificing his time tutoring you and you’re just wasting it

“i’m sorry i can’t learn as easily as you,” you mutter softly, picking up your things quickly

tsukishima gives you a look of confusion, “w-where are you going?”

“thanks for all your help, but i can’t keep wasting your time like this.” you say as you zipped up your backpack and left

the next day you walked to school alone. usually you would be walking with tsukishima and yamaguchi, but it seemed like even tadashi wasn’t there to wait outside your house either

you weren’t able to hide your melancholy as you entered your classroom, slightly glad that tsukishima and yamaguchi weren’t here yet to see your expression

it allowed you time to pull yourself together, and yet, that time alone was cut short as the two walked in

you briefly flicker them a look fast enough that they don’t notice, but long enough for you to see yamaguchi patting his best friend on the back with encouragement

tsukishima had something in his hands, but you were too far away to construe them

you looked back down to your desk, fiddling with you pencil and pretending as if you were thinking about what to write next

it was then did footsteps approach, arriving right next to you with a presence so unwavering

you gulped, hoping that it wasn’t who you thought it was as you looked it

of course it just had to be that one lanky boy with glasses and messy blond hair to be standing by your side

he was holding a stuffed giraffe and a small white box with string neatly tied around it

“i’m sorry for blowing up on you,” he bursts out his apology, “i know you have a hard time and i should’ve remembered that you can’t help it.”

he places the giraffe plushy and box onto your desk

“it’s an masai giraffe since i remembered you liking their unique fur pattern and i also got you strawberry short cake this morning before they ran out that’s why i wasn’t there to walk you to school.” tsukishima continues explaining, “i just hope you’re not angry with me.”

you felt a smile creeping up to your lips as you shook your head, “i could never.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #miya atsumu #atsumu headcanons #atsumu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma headcanons #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima headcanons

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ceciliablossoms · 3 years

Note

hiya! im in an angsty mood so could i request whiskey with diluc childe and kaeya? congratulations on 100 followers!!

Thank you!!

Again I'm gonna change the wording a bit so it fits a little better

Whiskey: “I’m so sick of your shit! Shut up for once!”

Warning: Angst with no Comfort

TW: Yelling, Swearing, Minor mentions of Injury

-------

Diluc

The air was thick and tense, hotter than normal due to the heat radiating from his body. He sat at his desk sifting through papers, his anger noticeable by everyone in the vicinity. They sat quietly on the bench close to his desk, patiently waiting for him to finish his work. With anxious eyes, they glance over at him but said nothing.

Their gaze on him only did nothing but irritate him, "Do you have something you want to say?"

His tone was calm despite the angry heat he gave off, and they jumped at the sound of his voice. Twidling their fingers out of nervousness they were hesitant to say anything. He continued to stare until they spat it out.

"M-Maybe you should take a break?" Their voice shook slightly, "You've been at it for hours. It would be best to step away and cool down for a bit?"

"If you had one inkling of sense you would know that I can't." Nothing had gone right today. Not a single thing. Every mishap set his schedule further and further back and it made him irate.

"Well-," They paused, swallowing thickly. "As much as there is to do the anger you feel will make it drag on longer. Diluc please take at least a moment to..-"

They stopped talking as the quill finally gave way under his grip and broke in two. His voice seemed to shake the room, "I am sick of hearing you speak! Shut up for once! You are but a hindrance."

They flinched and said nothing else, trying to keep their composure, and the maids stared on in surprise. After a moment they stood from the bench and hurried out the door, muttering a quiet apology. He glared at them as they left, not fully letting his actions sink in.

They left the Dawn Winery as quickly as they could, not wanting to face Diluc again. Was it solely spur of the moment because of his built-up anger? Or had he been harbouring that for a while? They didn't know.

The pain in their chest grew larger the further away they got, and they could no longer stop themselves from crying. They glanced behind them, the large building now far away. At least he no longer had to worry about them being a hindrance, right?

Tartaglia

To say that he was livid was an understatement, murderous aura radiating off of him in waves. If there was one thing he couldn't stand it was a cheater. They stared at him warily, having watched it all unfold.

A tall, muscular man had approached them on the outskirts of the harbour intending to fight. He said that he had known about Tartaglia and his fighting capabilities and challenged him to a duel. The rules were simple: 1) No weapons and 2) No visions. Tartaglia laughed in his face but accepted nonetheless. Who was he to turn down a battle, after all?

They watched quietly from the sidelines as a referee of sorts. The fight started off fair, both men following the rules without a hitch. That was at least until the man pulled out a weapon, landing a blow on Tartaglia that would have KO'd anyone else.

He stood still, spitting out some blood before looking at the man with a rage that they had never seen before. If this man wasn't going to listen to his own rules why should he? With the use of his vision, he downed the man, still swinging until they pulled him off by force and held his arms behind his back. The man was bleeding heavily but not dead.

"Tartaglia! You could have killed him!"

He laughed maliciously, knocking them over as he wrenched himself from their grip "That was the intention sweetheart."

They slid in between them as he began to approach, "Back up and calm the fuck down, Tartaglia! Just because he cheated doesn't mean anything!"

He glared at them furiously, “I’m so sick of your shit! Learn to keep your mouth shut when it's not your place to speak!”

"Learn to keep your temper in check when it's not that big of a deal! Just because someone does something petty doesn't mean you can jump to capital punishment!" They pulled the man onto their back as gently as they could, his weight causing them to hunch forward quite a bit. "Talk to me when you're fucking sane." Returning his glare with teary eyes, they ran as best they could to Bubu Pharmacy.

Kaeya

Errand after errand. Tedious task after tedious task. The more he had to deal with the more his temper grew. All-day long he had been wasting his time running from pillar to post completing insignificant, remedial tasks. He had better things to be doing.

Finally, he sat at his desk, thinking he got a break only to have stack upon stack of paperwork dropped in front of him. If he wasn't at his breaking point now, he would be soon. He glared as they dropped another stack of papers in front of him, ignoring the obvious drop in temperature.

"That should be the last of it. If you want I can help you finish it then afterwards we can go get dinner."

He said nothing, averting his eyes to read over the paper instead. Despite his lack of a response, they pulled up a chair and began to assist him regardless, occasionally trying to make small talk that led to them rambling.

The more they talked the angrier it made him. He felt his blood boiling even though the room was getting so cold that he could see his breath. They were about halfway through their stack of paper when they stopped talking and glanced up at him, and at the sound of his name in a question, he snapped.

With frightening calmness, he set down his quill, locking his fingers together and stared at them with a smile, “Quite frankly, I'm tired of hearing your run your mouth. How about you do something useful and shut it, hm?” His voice was steady but held a threat loud and clear.

A deafening silence occurred after that. They continued to help him with his paperwork but went so slowly that not even the pen would make a sound, not wanting to incur his wrath again. He relished in the silence, uncaring of how he made them feel at the moment. The only thing he wanted to do was finish with this shitty busy work.

After their stack was done, they silently put down their pen, picking up their sheets and carrying them out the door without a word. They didn't return to his office after that, instead opting to go home. Never in the time of knowing him had they heard Kaeya talk in such a way and they'd be damned if they had to be subject to it again.

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peachiimilquetea · 3 years

Note

something angsty with tenya leaving fem reader for the event? ty! prompt: “you can’t leave me. i don’t know how to survive without you.”

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞. 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.” + tenya iida

a/n: bro… i don’t really like angst without the potential for a somewhat happy ending so i hope you’re ok with the fact that it’s not completely sad. i did pull on the heartstrings quite a bit tho, i hope you enjoy! check out the event here

contains: angst (obviously), iida being heavily influenced by his family, tensei to the rescue lowkey, crying, insecurities, mentions of alcohol, ambiguous ending, miscommunication

length: 2.0k

at first things had started off small.

iida worked long hours as the work of his brother’s hero agency fell on his shoulders. he tried his best to make time for you, but it always felt like your schedules could never line up just right.

you tried to work something out, quick calls on break times and cute messages around the house to remind you of one another, but most efforts fell flat.

then things started to get worse.

long and empty nights were spent building up resentment towards the man you had married. he was always doing something, something that took precedence over the vows you made when you walked down the isle no more than three years ago.

you knew his family didn’t like you that much, feeling that a marriage for love was a waste of such a powerful commitment. a commitment that could built them an empire, and boost the rank of their hero agency, solidifying a legacy for them.

tenya defied them for you, boldly declaring that he would marry whoever he wanted and that you were in it for the long haul. you were the girl of his dreams, he said, and anything that got in the way of his happiness was not something he would subscribe to. that only made them hate you more.

so when his texts of encouragement grew shorter and more sparse, and he began to have more special responsibilities bestowed upon him by none other than his father, you knew it was on purpose.

unfortunately, it was an effective strategy to chip away at a young and unseasoned marriage.

“tenya can you please just check your schedule? i really want to spend more time with you.”

he sighed and rubbed his temples as he sat in his office. why were you bothering him with something so insignificant? you knew how important this transition of power was for the iida family, for the legacy of ingenium, but you still persisted.

he could feel the anger beginning to build until he looked in your eyes and saw the sadness brimming in them. his heart squeezed in his chest as he watched you, his wife, plead with him to spend time together. when had things come to this?

“i’ll try my best, but i cant promise anything.”

at this point, that was better than anything you could’ve hoped for.

with a kiss to his forehead you left him alone to get the heaps of paperwork he had to do, spirits lifted at the prospect of spending time with him again. just like the way it used to be.

you checked the time on the microwave for the 9th time. fifty-seven minutes had passed and your husband was officially late.

you should have seen it coming really, empty promises were becoming more and more common amongst the two of you. he would promise to try harder and you would promise to cut him more slack, the constant push and pull never being enough for either party.

getting up from the barstool at your kitchen island you made your way to the wine cooler to get a drink. not even bothering to pick up a glass you slumped on the couch, kicking off your shoes and splaying yourself out, just wanting the cushions to swallow you whole and dull the aching in your heart.

he wasn’t coming.

he was never coming.

you laid passed out on the couch when iida finally came home 2 hours later. he was only stopping by for a quick break, then going back out on patrol and he completely forgot about the things he said, smiling through tired eyes as he thought, this time i’ll make it up to her.

at the very least he could clean you up and tuck you in. he could brace himself for the impending fight later, but he was concerned about you. you never drank, not unless there was something wrong.

iida easily hoisted you up over his shoulder, discarding the various wine bottles and taking you to your shared room, although he wasn't sure if it was still considered shared anymore.

he laid you on the bed softly, changing you into one of his old shirts. his fingers ghosted over your cheek as he watched you sleep, the reality of where he was sitting heavy on his heart.

he loved you and yet there was nothing he could do to help at this moment. he had to leave for night patrol. he had to leave you.

his gentle touches roused you from your sleep and your eyes felt heavy as you tried to blink them open.

“you came?” you breathed, voice sounding foreign even to yourself.

iida gave you a small smile, “im sorry.”

your demeanor did a 180 at his apology. he was sorry. he was always sorry. but sorry couldn’t fix this. not when it had been so broken.

you winced and sat up, “sorry for what? sorry that you broke your promise for the thousandth time or sorry that you’ve been such a shit husband for the past few months?!”

“______-”

“no tenya. you do this every single time! every time i want to spend time with you theres always something more important! what could be more important than your wife?!”

“______ you know my father-”

you laughed bitterly at the mention of his dad. he always had to be such a good little iida child, always on daddy’s beck and call. it made you sick.

“your father doesn’t even want us to be together! cant you see that he’s doing this on purpose! youre a grown man! not a child permanently tied to his mommy and daddy!” you spat

“hes giving more responsibility for the sake of the agency! for the ingenium legacy! why are you always so selfish when it comes to these things?”

“selfish? selfish?” you asked, incredulous. you couldn’t believe your ears.

“yes selfish. do you know how much i sacrificed to be with you? how much i already have on my plate on top of trying my best to make time for you?”

you stared in astonishment.

sacrifice?

what had he sacrificed for this relationship? he got to do what he wanted, come and go as he pleased with virtually no regard for how you felt or what you did. what sacrifice was there in that way of living?

“fuck you, tenya.”

tenya took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face. he chose his words carefully before finally saying, “i cant do this. im leaving.”

you could hear a pin drop in the room. you felt your blood pound in your ears as you stood up quickly, dizzy from the alcohol but still trying to process the words you had just heard.

leaving?

“youre leaving?”

“yes, i have to go. im not doing this with you, not now.”

your heart felt like it had been smashed by a sledgehammer, as you tried to regulate your breathing. leaving. he was leaving.

“w-wait,” you feebly attempted to cling onto him as he gathered a few of his things.

“tenya you cant leave me.”

“_____ i do not want to do this right now,” he sighed, easily shaking you off and moving to collect more things. his words were buzzing around on the inside of your skull. he was leaving.

leaving without so much of a second thought. he had been planning this. still unsteady on your feet you hobbled after him as quickly as possible, desperation taking over every fiber of your body. you didn't want to lose him, you just wanted your husband back, you happiness back.

“y-you cant do that! you cant leave me! i dont know how to survive without you, tenya, please-”

“_____, just go to bed. you’re drunk.”

you trailed him around the house,“no, you don’t get to decide when this is over. i'm the one whos been hurting for months you cannot just leave me by myself.”

iida spared you one last glance before grabbing his bag, “goodbye, _____”

crushed, you sank to your knees, leaning on the couch for support. you felt like you were dying., hell, you probably were dying. you had never had so much to drink in your life, and you were desperate to make the pounding pain in your chest stop.

you cried yourself to sleep that night, waking up to the sunlight coming through the window with a splitting headache. you felt like your skull was trying to crack itself open from the inside but you shakily got to your feet, remembering bits and pieces from your fight with iida.

you could tell he didn't come home last night; everything was exactly the way you had left it last night. the house alarm was still on, and his shoes were gone.

he actually left.

anger bubbled in your chest as you thought about what had actually happened. you would not let him get the last laugh, or be the last one left, the one waiting on him patiently to pick up the pieces after trying to keep it together. you would leave too, as much as it hurt, and show him just how selfish you could be.

in a flash, you haphazardly packed a bag with essentials and had texted your friends that you needed a place to stay for a few days. you didn’t get into specifics- your heart ached too much to relive the events of the previous night- but you told them you had reached your limit and you needed to take some time to cool off.

alternatively, iida did not sleep that night. after finishing patrols, he stayed at his brother’s apartment out of pure convenience, not feeling prepared to face you after everything that had transpired between the two of you.

the dark-haired man laid staring at the ceiling of tensei’s guest bedroom, wracking his brain and trying to pinpoint how things had gone south so fast. he wanted to fix things, but really didn’t know how. he couldn’t even tell you what was broken, let alone how to begin to fix them.

his brother had tried to give him advice after listening to the entire story, but there was only so much he could do. he knew that you were right, their father was keeping him from you on purpose, slowly making tenya think that he was in the right in an attempt to break you up, but he couldn't be the one to tell him.

tenya had to come to that conclusion himself. he needed to be the one to set boundaries and save your relationship, but from the looks of it, soon any attempts would be futile.

“_____? darling?” iida called as he came into your home. immediately noticing your missing shoes, he moved to the bedroom in a flash, checking to see if you had just moved them or something.

the room was a mess, drawers left open and clothing strewn across the bed and floor. the bathroom had been cleared of almost all your essentials, and a note was left on the dresser. gingerly, iida picked it up and read it, offering up a silent prayer that it didn't say what he thought it did.

i don't know when you'll see this, or if you ever will. if you're reading it, that means you came back home but you will not find me there.

im tired, tenya.

im tired of always being the one to extend the olive branch or bend over backwards for you.

i refuse to be in that position any longer. i love you… i love you so much it hurts sometimes because i know this isn't the way things were supposed to be. but you left, and so i decided to leave too.

if a way to fix things exists, i want us to find it, but right now i need some time to reevaluate us and what that means. i hope you understand, i know you will.

if you want to reach out, im open to talking about this further, but for right now i need to think.

goodbye.

--------

#peachiileaf50!#[🍑]peachiimilquetea #[🍑]peachiiwrites #scenario #tenya iida #mha iida #iida angst #angst #tenya iida x reader #iida x female reader #peachiileafsfw

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youryanderedaddy · 3 years

Text

Lady Luck (pt. 1)

I was so hyped to write this lol. Heavily inspired by Kaiji <3

Tw: mafia mention, unrealistic potrayal of mafia, mentions of threats, implied obssessive behavior (will get more hardcore in the second part tho), mentions of gambling, kidnapping /not reader/

You knew that you were a scum, a lowlife, a miserable loser without much hope in life - that’s exactly why you had no problem joining the deadliest underground paradise and following under the steps of the Lucciano family. They controlled everything - the casinos, the drugs, the guns, the whores, you name it - they provided it. And you had nothing - neither a past, nor a future. But everything changed when the oldest son Thomas decided to help you get out of the mud and step onto your legs - he gave you a home, a friend to return to, a shoulder to cry on when reality felt too painful and harsh, just too much to bear on your own. “Why would you do that for a stranger?” You had asked him once while tipsy, sitting by the hearth, a slight blush adorning your soft cheeks. “That’s easy.” The man had responded right away without giving it much thought. “You remind me of myself.”

You spent long nights thinking about his words but never came to a conclusion - he was born into a powerful, wealty family, so it made no sense for him to have experienced rock bottom the way you had. And his small black eyes displayed such a variety of terryfing emotions - bloodlust, greed, sin and so much sadness. Why would a monster ever feel scared, you wondered.

Working for the Luccianos wasn’t especially hard or even dangerous - you ran small errands for them, took care of the younger kids, helped with insignificant deals, acted as a croupier when their staff was sick or missing or had to be taken care of, but one thing you were thankful for was how they never tried to force you into doing something you would never be able to forgive yourself for. Thomas was kind to you - always so considerate, willing to listen, to understand how you felt even when the worlds you two lived in differed so greatly. He was supposed to be villain of the story, big and scary, demanding, taking whatever he wants without asking and never feeling an ounce of regret about it. And for a while, you were suspicous of the man’s every move - you were desperately waiting for the mobster to fuck up and show his true colours so you could let yourself hate him, despise him. And yet the sweet, sweet moment of revelation never came. You knew, of course, of the many evil deeds the criminal bestowed upon thousands of innocent people each and every day, but you never witnessed it with your own eyes and when the man was treating you like a part of his family, holding you close and giving you chance after chance to prove yourself, it was slowly getting impossible to view him as the bad guy. Perhaps you should have waited just a little longer.

It happened during a warm, spring day. You didn’t expect it, you couldn’t. You had just finished your shift at midnight in the small shop you worked in, which belonged to Thomas’ mother, and were heading to the Lucciano mansion. It had been a particularly long and exhausting day, so you wanted nothing more than to feel the soft, silky, white sheets down your half-naked body while the quiet classical music took you to dream land and back. But upon opening the heavy wooden door, you quickly noticed something was different - there was no music, the big black TV in the middle of the hall was set to camera mode instead of the normal one, and it was awfully quiet. “They must have had to leave the country for a while.” You rationalised. “It has happened before after all.” You kept reassuring yourself while taking a tiny step towards the centre of the room where light was the strongest - it could uncover every hidden little detail.

And then the TV was turned on. You shifted your gaze up, paranoia eating at you from inside out. Soon there was clear image on the massive screen, but what you saw left you speechless. There were hours of footage from your personal life - working, hanging out with friends, eating, bathing. What made the shivers down your spine run cold was a scene where a guy, your boyfriend, was kissing you, touching you, undressing you with his praying eyes. It was nothing unusual for a young woman to have a love life, but this broke the only rule Thomas had told you upon entering the house - you were forbidden from having close relationships with men, especially dangerous ones, and for the longest time, you had no issue living by that as long as you came back to the luxury and warmth the mobster provided for you. Until you met him - a charming, clever member of a local gang. You knew it was wrong and could cost you more than you were willing to sacrifice and yet you still gave in. It was your first time experiencing the highs and lows of love, so who could blame you when it was such a magical feeling, a mixture of adrenaline and opium. Alex made you feel like a real human being instead of someone just existing, leeching off the stronger, wealthier species.

There was a shadow moving out from the corner, playing into your delusions. But soon enough you realised it was all a reality as none other than Thomas walked slowly towards you, clapping his hands dramatically, a sly smirk on his beautiful, scarred face. Did he...

"Congratulations." The man started off, dark eyes set on you, slowly coming closer and closer like a big black hole, ready to swallow you whole. "You went and got yourself a little boy - toy." The criminal chuckled viciously under his breath, making you cringe at the crude nickname he used. The situation felt surreal and yet the fear and panic were already suffocating you, making you dizzy wish regret. "I wish you would have told me though... I never thought someone I hold so important would lie to me." The mobster kept rambling, waving his arms in the air theatrically, while holding a lit cigarette, but never moving it to his lips - it was just a prop, a way to create a thick smoke mist in your eyes. It was finally the hour of judgement.

"What do you want?" You asked, faking confidence, desperate to take control of what was happening. It was a bizarre thing to see your dearest friend act in such a eerie, frightening way, almost treating you like one of his victims - nothing more than an indebted bastard or an unfortunate bystander, unlucky enough to catch a deal unfolding right behind the scenes. It hurt but you had forced this upon yourself and you had to fix it.

"Nothing much, really." Thomas replied, finally inhaling the deadly smoke into his open mouth. He played with his collar for a while, as if you weren't standing there, scared for your life. "I just want to teach you a lesson in obedience, doll." The mafioso continued, circling you slowly, his heavy gaze never leaving your body. You felt awfully exposed even when all your clothes were present, covering every inch of your skin. With a swift snap of his fingers, the man summoned most of the gorillas that worked under him. Two of them were dragging your kicking, screaming boyfriend towards the centre of the room, but a quick punch in the guts managed to quiet him down. He looked terrified, his face bloody and injured, covered in dust and misery. But he was still alive and only that mattered to you.

"I wanted to make this entertaining for all of us." The oldest Lucciano spoke out, his husky voice echoing trough the golden ceiling. He moved over to your lover and harshly pressed the cigarette butt against the exposed skin of his unprotected arm. The man cried out in pain, silently pleading you to help with his big, terrified eyes. And here you were, as helpess as he was - if not even more. "So I decided to initiate a little gamble of sorts, ya know?" Thomas winked at you, smiling with malice. You couldn't help, but recall all the times you two had played poker together, betting less than pocket change. You never understood why the man always got so excited despite winning such small sums, especially when his casinos already did well. But now you could see it clearly - he got off crushing his opponent, taking the victory under their noses. Money meant nothing. As long as he was able to ruin your mood, your life, the man was pleased.

Soft white light lit up the furthest corners of the hall and you saw dozen square boxes, arranged in a circle. It looked harmless enough on its own, still they were stamped with Thomas’ symbol - a dove. You used to wonder why someone in the most dangerous depts of mafia would choose such an innocent, sweet signature pf representation and now the answer was right in front of you - that way it was easier to trick the enemy into thinking they were safe. And how wrong were they.

“As you can see, there are nine wooden boxes in total. They look exactly the same and on top of each one there is a hole.” Thomas stopped to point at them, the raw anticipation flooding his otherwise dull pupils. “Six of the boxes are empty. In the other three though, there are placed some of the most poisonous snakes in the world. One bite and you are dead.” The madman gave a loud, breathy laugh while your boyfriend squirmed uncomfortably in place, restrained by the strong arms, holding him down. “Both of you will take four turns putting your hand in the boxes. After every round the box would be closed off and you would be able to choose only from the remaining ones. ” The mobster grinned widely, looking at your horrified expression. You couldn’t believe that the man was willing to put your lives on the line simply because you had neglected one of his orders. “Now you may be wondering where the suspence is - after all you would probaby manage to hear the hissing from afar and avoid the place it comes from. Rest assured, my foolish little friends. Right now the snakes are heavily intoxicated and absolutely silent - which doesn’t mean, of course, that they won’t attack any soft flesh they see. If you die, that’s on you, but if you survive, you will be rewarded.” Thomas clapped his hands together and his man let go of your lover, resulting in his falling to the ground with a heavy bang. Thomas pursed his lips together.

“Shall we get started?”

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere mafia #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere gambling #yancore

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

only the black rose (chapter 8)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: big nsfw warning, drinking, jimmy being himself, fluff

words: 3.6k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: so. layla’s a freak in the... well... not necessarily the sheets, i guess? more stressy hands because they're my weakness, and just... please savour the last bit of happiness you get here. that is all. (two more chappies to go!!!) hope you enjoy :) feedback as always is so very welcome!

masterlist

playlist

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

———

As she’s checking over the stage, ensuring the lights and speakers are set to do their job, Layla’s thoughts roam. After the chaos at the hotel pool, while everyone was asleep, Layla had been anything but. Her tossing and turning had disturbed Jimmy, who had pulled her further into his arms with a tired grunt. She lay there for another hour, her conversation with Jonesy running through her mind over and over. It was obvious she’d have to go back to her own time, and she missed her friends. She missed her mom. She missed everything.

Layla couldn't help, though, but think that maybe she didn’t want to leave.

She had made friends that meant the world to her, and… she’d found Jimmy. The guitarist had changed her life, and had shown her what it meant to love. She’s falling for him, and it’s not long before she hits the ground. It’ll be worth it, she thinks, for someone like him. Jimmy Page is a rare gem, precious, and she knows that she would spend her life trying to find her way back to him.

A throat clears from behind her, and, looking over her shoulder, Layla spots Peter Grant standing a few feet away. Soft smile resting upon his lips, he steps closer, placing a large hand on Layla’s shoulder.

“Layla, I trust everything’s going well?”

“Yep! Lights and sound are looking good, and the stage is set up. Anything else you need me to do?”

“No, this is perfect, dear,” Peter shakes his head, smile morphing into a smirk as he continues. “Though, you’ve been requested elsewhere. Follow me, Layla.” Leading her through the venue, Peter stops in front of a closed door, a laminated sign next to it reading, “Dressing Room: Led Zeppelin”. Turning to Layla, he holds out an arm, beckoning her to take it.

“Shall we?”

“We shall, Peter.”

Arm in arm, they walk into the room. Robert, lying elegantly across the comfortable couch pressed against the wall, has his eyes closed. He hasn’t thrown up yet, but his voice is hoarse, and he has a terrible cough. Knowing these boys as well as she does, Layla suspects that nothing will bring them down. The show must go on, after all. Bonzo is next to him, Robert’s feet in his lap. The drummer speaks quietly to the sick man, who answers in the voice of a 20-year smoker. Jonesy speaks in hushed tones to Jimmy, eyebrows pinched in worry. Jimmy, Layla realizes, has his finger in a bowl of what looks to be ice water, if the cubes of ice scattered across the table are anything to go by. From the doorway, Layla can’t hear what’s being said, but by the downwards tilt of Jonesy’s lips, she can assume Jimmy’s stubbornness is on full display again. Her entrance with Peter hadn’t been noticed, until Robert’s eyes open to slits and he sits up, a smile breaking out on his face.

“Peter! Ah, look, if it isn’t my favourite little dove…”

“Hey, Robert. How are you feeling?”

“Better, better,” Robert smiles, and stands up to pull Layla into a hug, hands splayed across her back. “All thanks to you, Layla. Seriously, thank you for taking care of me.”

Layla grins in response, waving at Bonzo as she passes. He lifts up a hand, as if to splash the woman, and her face lights up, a giggle flying out past her lips. Layla walks over to Jonesy, and he gives her an uncertain look, beckoning her closer. Leaning close, he whispers into the woman’s ear, a worried glance at the guitarist beside him following.

“He was in a lot of pain, even with the meds, so he, uh… found a bottle of Jack’s and… Layla, he won’t listen.”

As if on cue, Jimmy takes a pull from the large bottle of whiskey that rested next to him on the table. Layla hadn’t noticed it, walking in, but it stuck out like a sore thumb now.

“Hey, petal,” Jimmy slurs slightly, bottle in hand as he sends the woman a lazy smile. Injured finger in plain view now, Layla can see how the nail is completely black, the skin around it still dyed purple from the force applied to it. Layla shakes her head, eyes downcast, as she walks closer to Jimmy. She grasps the bottle of alcohol in his hand, replacing it with her own, a warm palm meeting his.

“Jimmy… you can’t just…” Layla drifts off, not wanting to argue with him this close to showtime. They can always talk about this later, after all. Jimmy, noticing her internal battle even through his alcohol-fueled haze, pulls her into his lap. Jonesy, confident that Jimmy is in good hands, nods at Layla before giving the couple a moment to themselves. Jimmy brings a finger to the apple of Layla’s cheek, stroking it almost hesitantly, as though she would break under a stronger touch. Layla’s eyes, once meeting his, drift to his plump, pink lips. They shine in the artificial light, as he swipes his tongue across to wet them.

“Layla,” Jimmy starts, snapping her out of her trance. Her eyes meet his, and he smirks at her dilated pupils. She knew he had caught her staring, she wasn’t exactly subtle about it. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What is the meaning of life? Please, answer seriously. This is important.”

“Jimmy, I didn’t peg you as someone who indulges in drunk philosophical discussions.”

Jimmy huffs a sigh, and leans in closer, pressing a quick kiss against her lips. Pulling back, he looks at their joined hands, before meeting her eye once more.

“Humour me.”

“Well—”

Before she could answer, Peter floats back into the room, telling the boys to follow him backstage. It’s showtime, and Layla doesn’t want her guitarist to leave yet. Jimmy looks at her expectantly, green eyes searching her face as though the answer to his question was written in the curve of her lips.

“It’s okay, Jimmy,” she says, squeezing the hand in hers, passing courage from one to the other. “We can continue this after the show.”

Jimmy nods, and releases her hand slowly, not wanting to break the contact. Layla hops out of his lap, and helps him stand. Her lips meet his in a soft kiss, as she presses their foreheads together. Their eyelashes flutter against each other, and the scent of citrus, tobacco and pine was ever-present, invading all of Layla’s senses. Jimmy pulls away first, and walks to the door, glancing back at her over his shoulder. She smiles at him, adrift in the empty dressing room, and he smiles back, walking out the door.

“Good luck, angel.” Layla whispers, voice swallowed up by the silence of the deserted dressing room.

Making her way to the familiar lip of the backstage area, Layla’s hands wring together, her lips bitten red. Robert hadn’t sounded well at all earlier, and Jimmy… It seemed like he was deteriorating right before her eyes. The mixture of codeine and Jack Daniels killed the pain, sure, but he was no longer the sharp, pragmatic man she was falling for. He was too caught up in the burn of the drink down his throat, a way to forget the agony rushing through his hand like a current. Bringing her attention back to the stage, she spots the boys, who share a loaded glance. Robert takes a deep breath, and launches right in. ‘Rock and Roll’ passes without a hitch, save for some voice cracks. If anything though, they add to the authentic performance, the crowd electric as usual. ‘Sick Again’ stuns, followed by ‘Over the Hills and Far Away’, and all is well, until ‘How Many More Times’ rolls around.

It was small. Insignificant, really. If Layla hadn’t been searching Jimmy’s face, entranced by the way his brow furrowed as he got lost in the music, she wouldn't have noticed. Breaking apart from the rest of the band to complete a complicated lick, Jimmy’s fingers trip up on the fretboard. To the audience, the only consequence is a slight dead note in the midst of heavenly riffs. Gazing over at Jimmy, however, Layla could see the discomfort in the downwards tilt of his lips, and the pain stiffening his shoulders. She could see the anger flaming in his dark eyes. Jimmy recovers well, delivering attack after attack, though his solos, from that point on, tended to go a little off-track. Whether from nerves or self-doubt, Layla didn't know. But she knows him. She knows the guitarist will let it cloud the entire night. She knows he’s gonna pick the show apart, minute after exhilarating minute, looking for the smallest flaw. Layla knows that she’ll be there for him through it all.

No matter what.

----------

With a hoarse thank you and a flourish directed at the audience, Robert finally leads the band off-stage to voltaic cheers. Robert, ecstatic as ever during the concert, seems to deflate the second he gets off. With a nod and a soft smile at Layla, he disappears into the depths of the backstage area. Jonesy and Bonzo pass by with tight-lipped smiles, clapping her on the shoulder as they follow Robert. Jimmy is the last to appear, and the reason for the rhythm section’s warning glances becomes apparent immediately.

Jimmy scowls as he approaches, eyes glassy, as though she were looking into a clear stream. Layla can see herself reflected in them; can see the worry reflected in her own gaze. Slipping a hand around his bicep, she steers Jimmy into a corner. He refuses to look at her, even as her hand tilts his face upwards softly.

“Jimmy, love, that was—”

“Shit.”

“No, not at all,” Layla steps closer, a hand finding the familiar spot on his cheek. “It was a great show. You saw the audience, Jim. They loved you guys!”

“It was shit, and everyone knows it. If I could just—”

“Jimmy, come on…”

“—be good enough, this would have gone differently.”

Layla’s breath catches, eyes as wide as saucers as she steps closer to the guitarist, who turns away. His gaze at the floor never wavers as he paces, muttering to himself.

“Jimmy, look at me,” Layla stops him in his tracks with a hand at his back. His shoulders heave with deep breaths as he tries to calm himself down. “You played a good gig. It doesn’t matter if you missed a note or two. You came to play a great show, and you did.”

“But it isn't enough. These people came here for an extraordinary show and we couldn't deliver. I couldn't deliver, and—”

“Hey—”

“—if my finger wasn’t broken, we would have been as good as we’ve always been. This is my fault.”

“Jimmy, this isn’t on you. You did nothing wrong.”

Jimmy’s hands fly up to land in his hair, as he pulls at it almost unconsciously. Layla grips his cheek lightly, as the other hand comes to rest at a thin wrist, pulling it away from the dark locks it had latched onto. Jimmy averts his eyes from the woman’s earnest gaze and turns his back once more, treading a hole in the wooden floor of the backstage area. Layla’s palm rubs soft circles into the fabric of his cardigan, patches of whispering dandelions catching on her fingers. From her place behind him, she can see the way he’s beating a fist into the palm of his injured hand repeatedly, perhaps a way to atone for a mistake that hasn’t been committed.

“I fucked up this tour. It’s my fault. I can’t do everything I know I can do, and that’s on me. I just…”

“Jimmy…”

“I can’t do this anymore!”

Layla shrinks back slightly at the exclamation form the man, who is shaking like a leaf. His head drops, long hair hiding his face once again. Recovering quickly, she spins him around carefully to face her. Hands cupping his cheeks, she presses her lips to his. His eyes flutter closed and he immediately reciprocates, a hand pressed to Layla's hips; his new favourite spot for them. Jimmy lets out a whine of pleasure, and Layla pulls away, looking into his tired eyes.

“Jimmy, listen to me. You did play well. I am so, so proud of you. Okay?”

“...Okay. I’ll… work on trying to believe you.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

If Layla sees the sparkle and shine of tears on the man’s cheeks, she doesn't mention it as she grabs his hand, leading him to an empty room, locking the door immediately.

Finally away from prying eyes, Layla unfurls the guitarist’s hands from their clenched position, bringing the injured one up near her mouth. Gazing up at him, eyes shining in the dim light of the room, she presses a chaste kiss to each finger, slowing as she reaches the one painted shades of purple and black and blue. Jimmy nods, exhale shaky, and she presses the softest of kisses to the tip, hoping to cause pleasure rather than pain.

Jimmy’s hands slide lower from their place on her hips to cup her bum lightly, in case she was uncomfortable and wanted to slip out of his grasp. Her lips find his again as he pushes her against the large table in the middle of the room. Layla lets out a whimper, swallowed by the mouth against hers, as Jimmy’s tongue laps at her bottom lip, asking for entrance. He’s always been soft with her, but this new side of the dark-haired guitarist excited her. The kiss was over as soon as it began, Jimmy pulling away to stare at her, close enough still that their noses touched.

“Petal, I… We were gonna take it slow, and we will, but if you're ready…”

“I’m ready.”

Jimmy smiles, crashing his lips against her quickly, passionately. Pulling back once more, Jimmy smirks as Layla chases the high the feel of his lips gave her. Pressing into his space again, she frowns, which makes Jimmy chuckle. Layla’s hand reaches up, twisting in his hair.

“Angel,” Layla starts, a light tug on a mussed ebony ringlet following the nickname. His mossy eyes were dark with desire, and he placed his lips on her neck, kissing a trail down her jaw, stopping at her collarbone. Slipping the sweat-soaked cardigan off his shoulders, she traces a line down his cheek, eyes glued to his blush-red lips. “Can you lie down on the table for me? Please do try not to break any other body parts.”

“Haven’t I told you I’m afraid of heights?” Jimmy laughs, and with a small smile thrown over his shoulder, he hops up onto the table.

“You overlooked that, love,” Layla says, unbuttoning her blouse ever-so-slowly, surely teasing the guitarist, who leans back on his elbows. His eyes follow her every move as she takes off the rest of her clothing. “Now, I feel like you might have too many clothes on, Jim. We need to be even, after all.”

Slipping his pants and underwear off in record time, he reclines back, already hard. Fully exposed now, Layla climbs up onto the table as well, straddling the man’s lap, before sinking herself onto him. A calloused hand lands on her hips, helping her find the perfect position, until a soft groan rang through the near-empty room. Jimmy’s hands move up to her breasts, toying with the woman’s nipples, much to her delight. Layla grabs onto his chest for support, craning her head back in pure euphoria at the sensation, the hollow of her neck exposed as Jimmy raises up to nip at it. Grinding her hips to the rhythm of the man’s soft groans, she trails hickies up his chest and neck.

“Something to remember me by.” she says, looking at him with dark eyes, a haze of lust filling them. Hand gripping Layla’s ass tightly, he brings her ever-closer, a mumbled “fuck” leaving the woman’s kiss-bitten lips. The guitarist’s face is creased with absolute exhilaration, as he rocks back and forth to the movement of Layla’s body on his. The couple didn’t know where one ended and the other began. Ecstasy fills the room, and whispers of praise flow like music from lips bruised and bitten.

“You did so well today, angel. You’re incredible.”

Jimmy raises up once more to capture her lips in a bruising kiss, a hand raking through the woman’s hair roughly, landing on her throat. Jimmy squeezes it lightly, warningly, and presses his lips to Layla’s once more, swallowing the shriek of pleasure she gasps out.

“You liked that, petal?” Jimmy’s hoarse voice reaches Layla’s ears almost belatedly, too caught up in the pleasure of his hands on her, though she nods as if her life depended on it. Panting hard now, Layla quickens her pace, noises of pleasure growing louder. With the friction of his hand on her, roaming everywhere it could reach, Layla felt divine; heavenly in this embrace. Leaning down for a heavy, passionate kiss, Jimmy’s hand finds her hair again, and he tugs on it hard. The pain elicits a moan from Layla, as she reaches her peak.

With a stuttered breath, Jimmy releases as well, gasps leaving his lips as he looks at Layla reverently. The wetness from her core rushes over him as she lays back down beside him, spent. Back arching as she pants, her head turns to face him, faces painted with bliss.

In a post-coitus haze, Jimmy has his arms wrapped securely around Layla’s shoulders, as her head rests on his chest. Layla giggles tiredly, as her breaths ruffle the dark hair on Jimmy’s chest. Looking up at him, she’s pleased to see him looking right back at her.

“That certainly cheered you up, didn’t it?”

“You’re the best at cheering me up after all. This, of course, was just a bonus.” Jimmy noses at her messy hair, smelling a combination of fresh linen, sweat and her shampoo; hints of strawberry and mango tickling his nose.

“We should get up, the boys are probably looking for us,” Layla says, dragging light fingers across his stomach, watching goosebumps appear on the pale skin. Whether it’s from the sensation or the chill of the table, Layla didn't know, but she’s comfortable in his embrace, in danger of drifting off.

“What if we just… stayed here forever. They can find another guitarist.”

“You’re pretty irreplaceable, Page,” Layla whispers, reaching up to press her lips to his jaw. “I mean, who would the boys chaperone if you were gone?”

“Chaperone? I’m not that bad. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Right, so Robert was lying about the time you refused to sleep for 5 days out of pure adrenaline? New York, 1973, I believe it was?”

“...”

“That’s what I thought. We need to have a serious talk about your habits, Jimmy.”

With a chuckle from the guitarist, the two lapse into a comfortable silence, as Jimmy presses a kiss to the top of Layla’s head, nuzzling it with his cheek.

“Hey,” Layla shifts to look up at him, eyes filled with adoration. She felt as though she were looking at a star. Beautiful and shining, but out of reach, as much as she wished for the opposite. She knew this couldn’t last, though she’d savour every last minute of it that she could. “I need to… tell you something.”

“What’s wrong, Layla?”

“Nothing’s wrong, really. It’s… kind of the opposite, actually.”

Jimmy tilts his head in confusion, turning on his side to face her. He looked like a puppy, hair wild about his head, and Layla couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.

“S-So,” Layla shifts, nervous all of a sudden. Jimmy grips her hand in his, and nods when their eyes finally meet. “Do you remember what you asked me earlier? About the… meaning of life. You might not remember, you were a little out of it, and—”

“I remember. You’re rambling, petal. What’s going on?”

“Well, it’s… it’s love. The meaning of life is… love. Jimmy, I…um…”

“What is it? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I’m… I guess... What I’m trying to say is,” Layla says, taking a deep breath as she looks into the eyes that captivate her, and make her smile, and set her on fire. “I’m falling in love with you, and I just… Yeah.”

Jimmy grins brightly, surging forward to capture her lips in a kiss bursting with joy. He laughs into it, as their noses brush together, his finger tracing nonsensical designs across her side.

“Very eloquently put, Porter.”

“Oh my God, I just confessed that I’m falling for you, and you focus on—”

“I’m falling in love with you too. I thought that may have been obvious, considering the state of this poor table.”

“W-Well,” Layla stutters, blushing crimson as Jimmy’s plush lips tilt up in a picture-perfect smirk. “Put your clothes on, Page. The boys are probably waiting for us.”

Jimmy laughs, but redresses in his stage clothes, turning to stare at Layla as she slips her jeans back on. Buttoning up her shirt and flattening her hair, which frizzed up like a halo around her flushed face, she gazes over at Jimmy. Crowding into his space, she put a hand to the back of his neck, up on her tiptoes to peck at his lips once more. He slips a hand to her cheek, and deepens the kiss. Pulling away to glimpse the golden smile that rests on Layla’s lips, he feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. Arm in arm, they walk out of the room, twin smiles nearly splitting their faces. Jimmy glances over at Layla, and can’t believe just how lucky he is.

Screw falling in love, he thinks.

This is love, and he knows it for sure, now.

------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso (let me know if you want to be added!)

#only the black rose #jimmy page #led zeppelin #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page x oc #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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sinisterlyhan · 4 years

Text

01. lee minho / 9486 words

fwb!minho, oral (f & m receiving), unprotexted sex, female reader, slight angst and fluff, romance, lots of kissing, mc being kind of a brat, minho being kinda dominant

a/n: ahh, i finally wrote for minho! i hope this is good ;;

the thee bags of sugar you poured into your cup of hot coffee have probably been completely dissolved by now, considering the obsessive way you kept stirring the liquid with your teaspoon and not actually drinking it.

keeping your eyes out the glass window by the coffee booth, you allowed your mind to drift off to a familiarly foreign place as you mindlessly watched the passersby.

your lashes fluttered along with each shift of your eyes, your gaze jumping from one insignificant person to another as you accessed the idea that people are literally everywhere around you—annoying kids, depressed students, tired parents, and the slow folks.

the concept, more than often, flies past you on a daily. therefore, when you sit down and truly acknowledge the number of people you brush past every day, it is quite a staggering fact.

but what’s more bewildering than that, though, was the fact that out of all these people you could meet and think about, the only person who has ever really been on your mind was lee minho—a nice classmate, a good friend, and a few quick fucks.

a few. you heaved a lonesome sigh and replaced it with a bitter huff of laughter.

you wished it was only a few quick fucks. you should have stopped after a few of them and you should have never picked your hand up and sealed his ‘fuck buddy?’ deal with a firm handshake. but you were lonely back then, dry and lonely.

you had wanted love, genuine or not, and minho’s seductive kisses down your body were the closest thing you could get to feeling appreciated, so you made the biggest mistake of agreeing to be friends with benefits with him.

it has been half a year since you two established the relationship; the sex was frequent during the first few weeks, and then the passionate nights started to space out a little until you two spent more time with plans to hang out than to fuck each other.

your immature mind hadn’t been smart enough to fathom the idea of you ever falling in love with somebody like minho, because you knew you weren’t the type to blatantly fall for someone out of your league. it was the kick that got your to seal the contract.

but alas, minho has been more than irresistible the past few months.

he wasn’t just a fuck buddy, he has never been just that from the start of it all. nothing about your new relationship was awkward despite you two being silent classmates for so long until a house party came and messed it all up. and unlike what you expected, he never tried to distance himself to keep that sole status.

he wasn’t aloof, nor did he act like a stranger. minho was a good friend, a good classmate, and a good fuck if you may say so.

he has helped you with your classes numerous times; printing assignments last minute for you in the library because you were too sleepy to do so last night, scanning his thorough notes for you unprompted because he noticed you struggling during class, reading through your materials out of his class time just so he could further explain something to you.

he’s also been the best emotional support you’ve had; he has never complained when you unreasonably snapped at him because of too much stress, he puts up with your constant overthinking and temper tantrums, and he gets you snacks on his own grocery run because he thought you might get some cravings sometime during the day.

and, of course, the sex has never once been dull ever since you met him, but it was in a lot of the little things he does that makes your heart ache the most; it was him always making sure you’re okay, and him constantly giving you praises. how he loves to make eye contact and hold your hands. how he knows exactly when to be soft and when to be hard.

when did he stop being just minho to you, you haven’t the faintest idea. but your feelings for him have changed drastically over these amazing months, and it became your downfall because he has not contacted you for weeks.

just complete radio silence, nothing, gone.

“i’m telling you he likes you, okay?”

you rolled your eyes as you snapped out of your trance. turning your head to look at jisung, you pursed your lips and shrugged in bland disbelief. “shut up.“

“no, you shut up and listen to me,” he leaned forward on his seat, his eyes glaring because he was sick and tired of being ignored by both of his friends. but now he’s got a fifty-fifty chance of being a matchmaker, so he planned to go all out. “i have known minho for as long as my fat baby legs can waddle to the sandbox in the park, okay. and not once have i seen him run away like this.”

“this, this thing that he is doing?” his finger excitedly jammed against the surface of the table as he stared at you pointedly, emphasizing his words with each jut of his jaw. “this is serious, and what serious thing can he be afraid of?“

you waited for him to speak, but the silence he purposefully left out was urging to be filled in. you looked away, baffled, and you scrambled your mind to think of something to say.

“i don’t know? faili–“

“wrong!”

“a dise–“

“terrible answer!”

“ma–“

“zero points for yo–ow!”

“knock it off, jisung!” you scolded with annoyance after you flicked his forehead with your fingers, shoving his head back to the cushion of the booth seat. “i know what you want me to say… i just won’t say it.”

“he loves you, (name),” jisung said, hiding every bit of uncertainty behind his persuasive facade—his presentation face, as he calls it. “i really think he does.”

and he wasn’t lying. jisung gave the situation a fair share of analyzing, and he concluded with the fact that minho might just have fallen in love with you. because one thing he knew about minho was that while he is kind, he is not nice.

there is a distinctive difference; kindness is selective, it is earned, it is given by choice. nice is blind, it is a mindless thought, a moral conscious.

anything that goes between minho and his goal, or his dignity, or some dramatic factors as such, minho will not hesitate to lash out. he is kind, not nice.

and you—you’ve been plucking the kindness out of him like he was a river that could never run dry.

disrupting his study schedule to tutor you? ditching his long-term friends to keep you company? apologizing first and being the bigger person in petty arguments?

minho was good to you when he didn’t have to, and he still was kind to you when he didn’t want to. he wanted to keep you happy, he gets the thrill of being able to take care of you, and you can feel comfortable around him.

jisung would even go so far to say minho was head over heels for you now, with his heart bleeding dry for your sake. and he’s running away from it because the concept, the feeling was foreign to him.

“just go to his house, find him. he probably misses you like crazy,” he urged tentatively. “talk it out, or fuck it out if that’s what you guys are used to.”

“do you think it’s that easy? like i can just go up to his home and kiss him?“ you asked, exasperated that jisung didn’t seem to understand the limitation of your tolerance for humiliation and appearing desperate to other people.

“sure, why not! i’d totally do that if i were you!” he boasted, clapping his fist to his chest as he huffed through his nose. “it’s not like he isn’t jerking off to the thought of you anyway! it’s either that or he’s crying himself to sleep at night!”

“that’s…” your voice awkwardly trailed off.

“too much?”

“no, no, just…” you hummed with a slight shake of your head, unable to break through his innocent gaze and not sure how to tell him you missed seeing minho in his naked glory. so instead, you chose to back down. “nothing.”

you blinked, still processing his previous words in your head as you finally brought your coffee up to your mouth to take a short sip.

the sugary taste was barely seeping into the bitterness of your coffee, the last three bags of sugar you added having done nothing to help you savor the taste. and you thought about how minho would probably switch his drink with you or offer to order you a new one if he was here.

jisung watched as you put down your cup and reached for another bag of sugar. he laughed, shifting his legs and leaning against the back of the booth. “the sugar is bad for you.”

“i know,” you muttered as you shook the bag and let the content spill all over your drink.

jisung watched with nonchalance as you picked up your metal spoon and started stirring your coffee again. and he didn’t say a single word.

minho pushed his glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose, and he continued with his note-taking as his eyes focused on the massive text displayed on his laptop screen.

it was all he has done this day. right after morning classes, he headed out for lunch by himself and simply went home. he tried to ignore the stubborn unfamiliarity of spending most of his time alone, hoping the ghost of your voice would eventually stop haunting his heavy steps into the local boba shop, or even just to the edge of his bed when he decided to take a short nap.

he woke up alone, dazed and annoyed. but he was mostly tired; tired of being alone when he knew you were a call away, tired of drowning in chosen solidarity because he wasn’t brave enough to confront his feelings, tired of being scared that you wouldn’t return the affection his heart discreetly held for you.

it was very unlike him, and the change was frustrating. minho never thought himself to succumb to romance yet here he was, making bad decisions and pushing you away when all he wanted was to hold your body close.

the uneven grip on his pen caused him a sudden scrape across the lined-paper. he glanced down the rogue tweak of the letter 'r’ and he clicked his tongue. dropping the pen, he rummaged through his crowded pencil case for a white-out, just in time as the doorbell to his apartment rang.

he furrowed his brows as he perked up, his head turning to look behind his shoulder at the door. discarding the matter at hand, he stood up and made his way to the front door, where he sung the door open and immediately revealed you standing before him.

“hi,” you breathed out when you met eyes with him, your gaze hardening slightly in sudden timidity.

minho gave you a quick scan before he nodded. he, too, feeling rather awkward at what felt like a confrontation to him. “hey.“

“can i come in, or are you going to keep shutting me out?” you laughed meekly, pointing into his apartment and letting your eyes move away from him briefly before returning to his face. “i’m already here anyway, you might as well.”

“i… yeah, sure, come in,” he said, taking a step aside as he opened the door for you. he watched you head inside, kicking your shoes off and shoving them to the side. he eyed the plastic cup in your hand, and he attempted to make light conversation out of it. “you got coffee?”

“oh, yeah. i was hanging out with jisung just then,” you said, turning to face him. you stuck your hand out, giving him the cup. “do you wanna try some?”

“no, i’m good.” he waved his hand.

you looked at him, a faint pout forming on your face before you shrugged and brought the straw up to your mouth. “okay then, it’s probably better for you anyway,” you sipped the coffee, “i dumped like… six bags of sugar in it.”

the change of facial expressions on his face was priceless. he went from processing your words in confusion, then his eyes widened in surprise, and at last his brows furrowed in dismay that you were still sipping the drink like you didn’t just turn it into a liquefied candy cane.

“okay, no, i’m confiscating it,” he said after allowing you a few more obnoxious sip. he grabbed the cup away from you and held it out of your reach, ignoring your continuous protest. “do you know how unhealthy that is?”

“yes, but it’s sweet!“ you complained.

“it’s sweet until you get type-two diabetes.” He rolled his eyes, turning around and heading over to the fridge located in the open area where the kitchen was. “especially when you don’t just drink one cup of coffee every other week, you drink it several times a week, which can toll up to a lot of sugar intake and i am not about to let you run around self-sabotaging your health–”

he stopped talking when he turned away from the fridge and immediately saw you standing before him. the proximity of your faces was a little too close for his liking—not his subconscious, just his stubbornness—and he didn’t know what to do when he was confronted with it so abruptly.

he hasn’t seen you in some time, which gave him no opportunity to create such intimacy. and even though he had missed being able to feel comfortable with you being close, he suddenly didn’t know what to do. he would love to keep his emotions in check, and he would love to not spill secrets he had no intention to tell.

you glanced down to his lips and automatically huffed. jisung’s words flew back into your mind then, telling you to just kiss him now that you’ve made a mistake of stepping into his personal bubble. it wasn’t like minho was actively pushing you out anyway. you could just try, and if it doesn’t work out in your favor, you could just play it off.

a gasp left his chest when you suddenly leaned in and kissed him. your hands went up to cup his jaw, bringing him closer to you when you felt him starting to reciprocate the kiss. you have longed to do this for so long, sometimes it felt like you’d forget the way his lips feel if you go without it for one more day.

the nervousness within was slowly started to vanish, but part of your brain registered how minho wasn’t kissing you with the same vigor he used to whenever you two share a kiss. it felt out of place to feel his mouth move so slowly against your own, and it was not in a harmonious way.

his lips slacked against yours because his brain wasn’t functioning well. minho has missed you more than ever and this—this was practically a dream come true! he was finally kissing you again, and he wanted nothing more than to keep going, to put roam his hands all over you again.

but he couldn’t. he couldn’t allow himself more depths to fall for you, he couldn’t keep digging his own grave with uncertainty and doubt.

he would rather guarantee he can still be friends with you after sorting out his feelings, than risk you not returning his affection and jeopardizing your comfortable relationship.

“w–wait, (name)–stop–” he pulled away from you, taking in a breath of fresh air when his lips detached from yours. the air was eerily cold, he didn’t like it at all.

your hands dropped from his face, your heart sinking to your stomach the same way. that was enough indication—him pushing you off pretty much told you everything you needed to know about how he felt, and god, you felt so conflicted at the discovery.

you were mad at yourself for letting him allow so much control over you. the sheer anger that bubbled in your chest when you felt tears brimming at the back of your eyes was immeasurable. you warned yourself about this, you warned yourself about him, yet you still fell. and now you felt weak and hopeless because he didn’t love you back.

you also felt wronged somehow. the fact that minho has been such a kind friend to you has given you the false assumption that he would at least give you an explanation. if he didn’t want to keep the sexual relationship, he should have just been truthful to you instead of trying to ghost you for weeks and leaving you to your lonely thoughts.

but you wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t like him. him ignoring you wouldn’t have been a problem if you didn’t fall for him.

“what is your fucking problem, minho?” you asked, your anger boiling up. but despite that, your voice was more leveled than ever, as if you were exhausted. it was all being suppressed in your chest, burning and rotting away.

you smiled at him a little, the forced kind of smile, and you sarcastically laughed when you spoke, “if you got bored of me, you could have just said so.”

minho opened his mouth, surprised. but the light glimmer behind your eyes created a new kind of chaos in his head. he has seen you cry before, and this time it was all him.

“i–no, that wasn’t the problem, i just–”

“did i do something then? are you mad at me, or something like that?“ you cut him off with a scoff, shaking your head slightly as you frowned at him. “because you left me alone for weeks. you were a terrible friend to me, and i had no idea if it was me or you.”

“i’m not bored of you, (name). neither am i mad at you,” he replied quickly, sighing as he looked at you with softened eyes. “it's—something personal happened, nothing was your fault.”

you pursed your lips together, feeling slightly less agitated as your questions slowly got resolved one by one. “what is it, then? what happened to you?“

“i…” i fell in love with you.

you waited for seconds for him to talk but all minho could do was look down at the floor, fearing for what would happen to you and him if he ever told the truth. a sigh left your lips at his silence, disappointed that he couldn’t give you a proper answer.

“fine, don’t tell me,” you said, turning around to leave the kitchen area.

“hey, wait, where are you going?” he followed suit, panic flooding into his eyes.

“away from you,” you muttered as you put on your shoes. “don’t worry about seeing me again, i won’t bother you anymore.”

minho hasn’t realized he was unintentionally ruining the relationship until this point. in his attempt to keep his feelings secured and hidden, all to prevent the breakage of your friendship, he failed to notice the damage all the avoiding did to it.

now you were planning to leave him forever, to walk out and completely cut him out of your life. and oh, he was scared. he could not bear to never seeing you again, or even just to stomach the thought of you hating him because of his stupidity.

“wait, no, hold on–” he grabbed ahold of your hand when you grabbed the doorknob. before you could fling him away, he turned you around to face him and, impulsively, grabbed your face to crash his lips against yours.

yes, crash. with the amount of force he was using, the word crash would deem fit. you tried to push him away from you, but your little fists were futile to his broad chest, and soon enough he had you weak at the weeks with the exasperating way he was kissing you.

you could taste this one, his emotions were vivid at the tip of his tongue as he finally learned to surrender himself into you. he was desperate, he was lustful, he was burning at the tips of his skin just to kiss you like there is nothing else he could mean more than this exact moment.

when he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes. it was intimidating and confrontational, everything he thought he couldn’t handle now being pierced through his action so he could prove a point.

“i didn’t…” he shook his head. “i’m so sorry for ignoring you, i did it because i… i didn’t want to ruin our friendship… because i realize i won’t be able to fall out of love with you if we keep being friends, if we keep sleeping together.”

that took such a drastic turn. you never thought things would turn out this way for you, but here minho was, looking so deeply into your eyes and telling you he avoided you because he was scared his love would ruin your friendship. what a damned miracle!

“you… you coward, stupid, dumb, annoying–” you lightly punched him across the chest, feeling such staggering relief that you felt like crying. “you didn’t even give me a fighting chance, you just assumed i won’t like you back.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t even try to drop hints, how was i suppose to let you know i love you back?”

“i know, baby girl, i’m sorry.”

the shock within him vanished quickly. he didn’t have the time to express his delight the way he would want to. you were standing before him in all your glory—beautiful, genuine, emotional.

and he wanted you with him in a way that was much closer than this.

nudging his nose against yours, minho let his lips meet yours at a slower pace this time. he was gentle with you, his arms holding at the side of your waist to pull you closer as you two kissed.

your hands flew to circle his neck as you stumbled out of your untied shoes and into his chest. minho let himself linger on your lips for a while before he started to trail his kisses down your jaw.

your neck was a territory he has marked many times before, and he never fails to make sure he adds something new every time his lips touch the skin. his teeth grazed past your neck before he met at the crook of it, and he obnoxiously sucked a dark bruise on your skin just so you would whimper in surprise.

sigh—how he missed that whimsical little sound. it was always so heavenly to hear, even when the action that caused it was more than devilish.

he marked his way back up to your lips when his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. he slipped his hand under it, his palm touching your bare skin for a brief second before he retreated them to clutch at the fabric of your shirt.

“can i take your shirt off, baby?” he mumbled into your mouth, his hand already raising slightly in anticipation.

you nodded, raising your arms as he complied and pulled your shirt up. you two broke apart to allow it to go through before leaning back toward each again. minho discarded your shirt off to the ground, his hands couldn’t wait to finally meet with your torso.

he kissed you fervently, his fingers holding the same amount of enthusiasm as they glided past the small curve of your waist. up and down, a faint squeeze to hold you in place, and then he pushed you forward so your back hit the door.

putting a hand between the back of your head and the hard surface, minho reluctantly pulled away from you, this time with no intention to dive back to your lips again because of all the other access to your body you’ve given him.

he breathed heavily, his voice growing raspy. “i’m gonna make it up to you.”

“i expect you to,” you replied boldly, causing him to raise his brow.

that was not something you would otherwise say in a situation like this. minho would have put you in your place if you ever attempted to give him an attitude. but he planned to let it slide this time, after all, he did hurt your feelings and he was at fault here.

“good.” was all he said before he started to move down your body.

his lips met at your collarbones, then to your chest where he skipped over your bra and went straight down to your stomach. he planted light kisses all over your skin, his tongue occasionally swiping across to wet up your body a little more.

he was kneeling before you by the time his hands met the waist of your pants, and he looked up with brows raising teasingly at you as his hands circled to the front. his fingers carefully popped open the button before they hooked through the belt loops and slowly pulled them down to your ankle.

your knees trembled at the touch of his hands, gliding up and down the back of your thighs and ever so slightly tugging you toward him. your breath hitched in your throat when he leaned up to kiss your clothed core, the sudden touch sending a surprise jolt across your mind.

foreign but familiar—it just came too sudden. you hadn’t realized this was actually happening until your panties were dragged past your thighs, the cold air a stinging proof that you’re with minho right now, and his lips were getting dangerously close to where you’ve been aching to have him these past weeks.

his hands curled around your legs, gripping your flesh firmly to keep them apart as he liked it. he moved up your inner-thighs. he continued to send tingly sensations all over your body until he stopped for a second, as if waiting for a dramatic effect, for a lingering thought to vanish before he latched his lips to your pussy.

his tongue darted out to lick between your folds, feeling the wetness gathering at your entrance upon the pleasuring stimulation. your moan went straight into ears, lighting up the delight inside him, and he continued to lather himself all over your cunt, wasting no time to poke his tongue in and out of you rhythmically.

you grabbed a messy chunk of his hair, pulling at it as you desperately tried to rust against his face, taunting him to shove his tongue deeper inside your heat. the position made your legs feel sore, and the mere attempt to grind down on him was just difficult, but you could take none of those into mind that when his mouth mercilessly sucked at your clit until it was red and swollen.

he was luxuriating himself in you—in your taste, in your voice, in your movement. your essence dripping past his tongue in a slurpy motion, your walls clenching at the digits he had graciously slipped into your heat, and ecstasy took your voice up into a milky whine when his teeth barely grazed past your clit as he sucked at you.

the heat in your chest expanded and engulfed itself all over your body. without yourself even realizing, your legs have moved apart to give minho more access to touch you even more.

“fuck, minho, please!” you exclaimed, your head hitting against the door.

ahh, you still know how to beg. perhaps not as profusely as he would have wanted you to but you were polite nonetheless. not to mention, your fingers scratching through his soft locks was enough indication that he was doing a splendid job. and he couldn’t wait to hear more of you, to feel more of you.

moving his face down to your heat, he drove his tongue inside you once again while his thumb went to press circles on your throbbing clit. you let out a choked moan, the sudden change of stimulation a very pleasant surprise, and he has your climax pinned at his mouth in no time.

gathering up your juices into his mouth, minho finally pulled away from you and stood up. he didn’t bother to wipe your essence off his lips, he just went straight for your mouth as he pressed his lips against yours. and you were in too big of a haze to distinguish the taste of yourself and his saliva, still trying to come down from the orgasm you’ve missed having from him.

minho brought his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb carefully as he contemplated his next move. perhaps he was putting a little pressure on himself to make sure this encounter would be perfect, because he thought it somehow needed to be after hurting your feelings.

but part of him also ached for a good fuck after so long. not just with anybody but with you. the scorching desire in his chest would ultimately fuel his instincts today, and maybe he’d not be able to keep his cool when he could finally be inside you.

just the thought of it made his insides burst. he should have never distanced himself from you. it was such a stupid idea.

“up,” minho commanded as he leaned down to tug at your thighs. and you listened to him, jumping up so he could catch you around his waist, your arms going around his neck as your lips moved past his face to run freely down his neck.

you were enjoying the feeling of his skin, kissing him all over in ways you wished you had been able to. your teeth bit down harder when you heard his tiny giggle at your almost amateur attempt on leaving him a hickey, a frown appearing on your face at the fact that he wasn’t taking you seriously.

he brought both of you over to the couch and he dropped you down on the surface, his body quickly hovering over yours as he got onto the couch as well. you looked up at him, your eyes smiling funnily in a way that made him pause his movement.

this was supposed to be a heated moment, yet somehow a single quirk of your lips was able to make his walls crumble.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, pinching your waist and causing you to squeal at the itch.

“nothing! it’s just…” you reached down for his hand and brought it up to your face, kissing his rough knuckles as you smiled at him. “i’ve missed you, that’s all.”

minho wavered, the glint behind his eyes dimming with a sense of being completely enamored. at the way your lips would smile, at the way your gaze held all of him, even just at how your smaller hand gripped his own. he was so infatuated, he could see no end to it.

“i’m sorry for suddenly leaving you,” he said, leaning down by dropping onto his forearm. your fingers still clung into his palm when he moved it up to your chin, his thumb tracing the tip of it before it moved up to your lips. “i promise i won’t do it again.”

his thumb traced your lower lip, a movement so sensual that you couldn’t think about much of anything else. just the mere fact that you got him back, and that he too has fallen in love with you, was enough to make you drop every ounce of your sanity.

you felt like you’ve got all you need already.

“kiss me, minho,” you pleaded quietly, opening your mouth more so his thumb would shift across your teeth.

he felt your legs move underneath his body, pressing together in a squirm. and he knew you wanted him between them, he knew you were waiting for him to pull them apart instead of doing it on your own. because everything needs to be done by his hands, that has always been the way you two worked, and you would obey him with ease.

flashes of your naked body came before his face. flashes he imagined when he was alone at night, trying miserably to replace you with a toy, or sometimes even himself. his lids dropped as he shifted to look down at your body, soft and awaiting his instructions, and he lightly growled to himself.

impatience suddenly took over him then, the previous moment gone in a blink of an eye. he leaned down to capture your lips, his hands going to your knees to spread them apart so he could place himself right in the middle.

you complied with him, kissing him back and tugging at his shirt as a signal that you wanted it off his body. minho huffed through his nose, slightly annoyed that he has to break away from you but he quickly yanked the collar of the shirt and pulled it over his head.

the flex of his arms was visible as he did so, and your eyes widened shyly without looking away. god, you’ve always loved the way he was built—just muscular enough to ogle at and not too much that they become uncomfortably distracting.

having second thoughts after seeing his toned chest, you decided to sit up from your spot and pushed your hands against him. minho frowned at you, his voice silent but his head-tilt asking a thousand questions. he was going to kiss you, why have you stopped him!

you grinned as you pushed him back, using your body weight to make him fall to the other side of the couch until he was under you this time. you laid on top of him, your small frame trapped between his legs as your head right at the crook of his neck.

minho was about to verbally ask you for your intention, but his eyes rolled up into a close when you kissed his neck. your hands roamed across his chest, your nails dragging ghostly against his skin in an unrecognized pattern as you peppered your kisses and kitten licks all over him.

he sighed in content, feeling your lips on every inch of his body, hot and loving. and he loved being treated this way, like he was being worshipped, like he was a god and you some mere peasant who had to rely on him for a living.

“(name),” he said, his voice sharp as he opened his eyes.

you perked up at him from the waist of his pants, your hands teasingly located near the middle. they had been scattered all over his abdomen, touch here and rubbing there, but never once did they meet at the middle where the obvious bulge of his pants was.

looking at his unsatisfied expression, you could only feel a sense of amusement as you pouted. your lashes fluttered up at him as you scooted back a little for better access. your smile was unfading when you leaned the lower side of your cheek right on top of his clothed member.

“what?” you asked, your smile widening at the hiss he let out.

“stop teasing me,” he said.

“hmm…” you pursed your lips, your finger dragging past his thigh to your face, then you palmed down on the shape of his member. “but it’s so fun.”

for someone with a waterfall dripping past your lips, you sure could find some time to be bratty like this.

rolling his eyes, his tongue poked at his inner-cheek as he turned away for a brief moment. when he looked at you again, his gaze was less hooded than it was amused. but it wasn’t your kind of amused. it wasn’t playful but degrading, the glimmer of it making you shiver.

“you want to say that again, baby?” he asked, his hand moving down to your head. he gently ran his fingers through your hair before he tugged at your scalp, his action light but not without harshness in it.

you whimpered under your breath, your brows furrowing helplessly as your head tilted to the side. “no.”

“good girl.” he released your hair then, gesturing toward himself. he nodded at you, smirking, “keep going.”

you didn’t mess around this time. your hand reached to the rubber waistband and easily pulled his sweats down to his thighs. you scooted your body up, your mouth salivating at the mere sight of his clothed member. you quickly tugged down his boxers, letting his cock spring out before you carefully grabbed its base.

minho sucked in a deep breath at your touch, your small hand covering around the base of his shaft. he closed his eyes with a blissful sigh when your lips finally touched his tip, giving him a little kiss before pressing them against him to dart your tongue over his slit.

licking past his red tip, you trailed your tongue over his shaft once before you went back up to his tip. then you finally took him in your mouth, your head bobbing up and down at regular speed as your hand rubbed the uncovered area.

minho groaned, his hand quickly flying down to your head. he let it lay there, only wanting something for him to hold onto as you sucked him off. great pleasure released from his abdomen, spreading all across his body as you hollowed your cheeks and licked him up as your head moved.

he opened his eyes to look down at you. for a second, you were focused on keeping him in your mouth, but you seemed to have felt his eyes on you so you glanced up at him.

he cursed at your wide-eyed, innocent—well, as innocent as you could look with his dick in your mouth, at least—expression then. his chest doing a flip as you slowly dragged your lips up to his tip to add stimulation to it, the smooching sounds you let out deafening to his ears.

there was something about your facade. it was the way he knew you were just putting up a naive front to rile him up, looking as pure as possible as your lips printed a smile on the top of his shaft, your tongue still poking out to lick him irregularly as if you get to be in control here.

(and, yes, to a certain level you do have control. to a maximum level, you have his utmost attention and all of his heart.)

holding onto the base of his cock, you tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes mischievously at him. dragging the side of his tip against your cheek slowly, you let out a lewd hum, something like a relieved moan but it didn’t lack a tinge of questioning noise in it, and you watched him as if waiting for his patience to crack, waiting for his tough walls to fall beneath your feet.

he was falling. his face didn’t much show it, and either did his muscles tense under your body weight. but minho was completely surrendered to you; how could he not? you’re such a pretty thing, your warm mouth feeling heavenly as they moved up and down his shaft in an agonizingly slow pace.

his breathing was elevated now, he could feel his chest suffocating with deep arousal, and he wanted nothing more to have your walls wrapped around him now. forget your lips, he needed the tightness around him.

“okay, no,” minho spoke after a moment of thought. he attempted to sit up, his hands moving out to grab at your elbows. “you, get up, now.”

you listened to him, sitting up from your spot while he pulled at your arm. you followed his lead, letting him bring you onto his lap where you heat met with his hardened member. The confusion that once lingered in your head immediately faded away when you felt his girth snug between your folds, a whimper leaving your lips excitedly as you grind down on his member, wanting more friction out of a mere touch.

minho huffed, a tingly sensation fixated at his abdomen. his movements were beginning to get hasty but he has a general direction of what he wanted to do. he wanted you, that was all he knew. and with you sitting prettily on top of him, his mind knew exactly what he had to do despite the pitter-pattering of his heart.

although clumsy, he was precise when he gabbed you by your waist and hoisted you up with your help. he moved his hand down to hold up his dick, angling it right at your entrance before he glanced up at you through his tousled hair.

his eyes were striking, dazzling you as he waited for permission to handle you. you weren’t able to say much, a knot present at the back of your throat that could only be released when you could finally feel full again, full of him. so instead of talking, you brought your hands to your sides where his laid, and you lightly spread your knees further apart to drop onto his cock.

minho moaned lowly, feeling the warmth of your entrance as his tip got lathered up with your essence. he took that as a green light, and with a tightened grip on your skin, he guided you to sink on his length by pushing your body lower and lower until you were sat with him stuck within your walls.

your eyes shut when you felt his stretch, opening you up so deliciously that you needed a moment to breathe. you took all of him in you, his length a pleasantly erotic sensation inside your cunt that even a small scratch of friction could get your head all fuzzed up in a dream.

you felt full, oh so very full, in the most delightful way possible. you felt like smiling when you adoringly looked at him, because you loved him so and you didn’t think you could get this back again. your walls unconsciously clenched around him when you felt like shifting your position a little, and the little breathy sounds he let out a kind of music you adored.

he stared back at you after the sudden commotion and his heart melted. your faint smile was an undeserved treasure you somehow decided to grant him on a daily, and the fact that you always made him feel so snug and good, both chastely and sexually, was nothing short of a miracle.

his hand slipped from your waist to lace through yours, holding you softly as lust blossomed in his eyes.

it has always been the two of you who could make each other feel this way. the thrill of first love, the nostalgia of being intimate, the fear of losing one another—no wonder you two fell in love, it was a match made in heaven.

he brought you down to kiss him, and your arms instinctively flew around his neck. you allowed him a second of solace before pulling away just enough to speak, your voice small with praise. “fuck, you feel so good.”

he laughed, biting at your jaw where his face got draped over by the falling of your hair. “good, but i’m about to feel even better,” he whispered before reattaching his lips to yours. between the tangled lips, you could hear a needy whine sounding from the back of his threat, and you giggled into his mouth. he wanted you to move.

you carefully brought yourself up, your walls scraping past his cock in the process and catching up a burn. then, slowly but still at a non-torturous pace, you lowered yourself back down on him. you kept up with the speed, going up and down on his lap and moaning with every new stretch of your walls.

minho’s hands slipped from yours to caress all over your body, touching you gingerly as if you were his pretty porcelain doll. when his hands met your chest, he gave a small frown at the bra that was still attached to your body, and he quickly unhooked it to expose you completely.

your thighs stuttered when you felt him clamp his palm over your breast, the sudden jolt of pleasure hitting your head. his hands moved to cup your side, his thumbs reaching to press against your nipples and twirling circles with it. then he leaned forward to take your perky bud into his mouth after kissing around the bouncy area, licking your milky smooth skin before his tongue swiped across your nipple.

he kissed across your chest, his lips unable to remove from your skin as you relentlessly moved up and down on him. the plethora of pleasure, the immeasurable amount of enjoyment manifesting into this electrifying sensation all across your veins. it was all from the way minho felt so good inside you, and the passionate touch of his mouth on your everywhere.

“ahh–min–” you hugged him close with a sudden scream, only able to utter his name halfway. the jolt had knocked the air out of your lungs when his cock brushed against your sweet spot, making your knees buckle weakly and your movement halting to a messy rhythm.

minho raised a brow, feeling playful upon seeing your drastic reaction. he pulled away from your face, his eyes searching for your face. “hmm? min–what?”

you furrowed your brows then, a blush escaping to your cheeks at his seductive voice. as you struggled to keep up with the thrusts, you pursed your lips together and flashed minho a soft grimace before you squeezed your eyes shut again at the sensation. you didn’t plan on finishing your cut off sentence and you just wanted to keep hitting the sweet spot over and over again, because god, it made you feel so, so good.

but minho wanted otherwise. unfortunately, he has the upper hand here. he wasn’t the one who’s been moving rigorously the past minutes, he still got lots of stamina stored up for him to hold you in place. you whined when he did, his hands pushing down on your hips to prevent you from sliding up his dick.

you looked at him, your eyes wide as sweat glistened on your forehead, sticking the hair to your pretty skin. the arousal was dripping inside you, aching to be moved around, longing to be penetrated.

hoping to gain an ounce of sympathy, you pouted with a slump of your shoulders and pleaded, “minho, please.”

“hmm,” he squinted his eyes, lightly snapping his hips deeper into you. “please…? please what, baby.”

you clenched your fists, feeling the annoying pain of his slow, slow thrusts. part of you wanted to see how long he could keep up with this, this burningly slow pace. but hellish ache at your pussy overshadowed your tendency to be bratty and childish. all you wanted was to feel the pleasure again, so you begged as he wanted you to.

“please fuck me, minho,” you asked, desperation pumping out of your mouth like gold, “please fuck me–your cock feels good, i–i want more!”

minho laughed lowly, the moany sound hiding under the edge of his voice when he saw how you struggled to speak. the heat on your cheeks adding to the overall flair of his sight, your bare appearance the greatest art he’s ever laid his eyes on. and your words made him soar off the moon, you needy little thing! you’d break yourself with embarrassment to keep feeling the euphoric feeling only he could make you feel, wouldn’t you?

how pathetically adorable. maybe he should help you out a little, the moment a silent fulfillment to his own desire to pound himself quicker into you.

he gripped your hips tighter by digging his nails into your skin and he helped you up on his length. he waited for a moment before he forced your fragile body down on his cock, earning a chocked strangled whimper from you. he continued in a regular rhythm. occasionally, he would push his hips up to meet with your pussy, adding to the strength of the pound and making your moan louder with the strike.

you let loose of your muscles when you felt that you’ve lost the control, and you pressed yourself closer to him in hopes to regain the previous position. the magnified gratification came unknowingly like a ghost, his dick finally able to find your g-spot again, and this time stayed haunting you with every slick thrust.

as your pussy started to salivate more with each snap of your hips, the squelching noise was also becoming harder to ignore. it mixed in with your heavy breaths, the sound of sex reverberating around you both, and you could feel your orgasm approaching inch by inch, threatening your release.

minho was watching you carefully, his eyes fixated on your face as he observed every little movement. your jaw hung open at the constant moaning, your eyes barely able to open clearly because of the overwhelming sensation—everything about you made him feel confident, possibly even narcissistic at some point.

but he really enjoyed the fact that you succumb to him so easily, and you shamelessly showed it through your body without even knowing.

he wondered if you knew you were clenching incredibly tightly around his cock. it didn’t seem to be a conscious action, considering how you could barely string a coherent sentence together. judging by that, though, minho knew your climax was approaching close, and he planned to get you to it with as much care as possible.

pulling you off him suddenly, he sat up quickly and pushed you on your back. he hovered over your body, only laying on top of you after he re-inserted himself inside of you. your legs went around his hips, bringing him closer by the back while he leaned his head down to briefly kiss your neck.

“hey,” he smiled, his hand caressing through your hair as he looked down at you with soft eyes.

you raised your brows at him, silent breathes huffing in and out of your nose as he started to thrust into you again. you touched his face, squeezing his cheeks with a smile. “what?”

minho was right. he does feel closer to you like this.

his eyes shifted down to your lips and back up into your eyes. affection engulfed him quickly, it does every time he stares into your eyes. he gets reminded of the way he fell in love with you again and again whenever he does.

and he never minded the constant reminder. he enjoyed the process. it was a lot of emotional talks, playful banter, and a lot of good sex. all of which he felt like he could have with you for the rest of his life, he wanted to have with you for the remaining of his stupid lifetime.

he unconsciously pounded deeper into you then, his mind wanting you to feel all of him to the rawest sense. you moaned at the sudden change of force but you welcomed it by opening your legs a little more for him.

your toes were curling after a few more hard thrusts, your stomach churning impossibly at the way his cock felt sliding in and out of you. when you felt the tightening feeling in your chest, you looked up at minho and grabbed his hand, huffing out hastily, “min–minho, i’m close.”

“i know,” he hummed loving at you, picking up his pace to bring you over the edge.

you arched your back at the feeling, a silent scream leaving your mouth. he pinned your hands to the side of your head, his hands hugging your small ones, and when your head moved back down to face him, he wasted no time to put his lips on yours again.

god, it was like he literally cannot keep himself off you.

your mind was getting foggy. you weren’t sure whether it was from the passionately way he kissed or from the burn between your legs, but you felt like you couldn’t quite process anything clearly anymore. well, anything except for one thing.

when minho pulled away, he kept himself close. his lips were grazing against yours but he wasn’t close enough to kiss you. and you could feel his lips move against yours ghostly when he whispered, “i love you.”

you processed that one. the words hit you really strongly too, your heart practically sunk up to your throat at them. you wanted to say it back, you planned to say it back, but you only sucked in a strong breath when minho rammed against the sweet spot in you. your eyes rolled back at the unprecedented attack and your back lifted off the couch once again.

“oh fuck–minho, please, please–ahh!”

he continued with a few more harsh thrusts before you released around his cock with a whine, your hands tightening around his at the pleasure. he had his head buried at the crook of your neck, his hips continued to move as he drowned himself in the scent of your body. he was chasing his own high now, his cock twitching inside your warm hold as he pounded into you.

your walls slurped him up, tightening around him to add stimulation. and when he felt like he was about to come undone, he quickly pulled out of you and sat up. his hand moved to his cock, quickly pumping along his length as his eyes trained on your sweaty, delicate body.

you looked at him before slowly sitting up, you went on all fours and crawled closer to him before positioning your face before his cock. minho shakily breathed out a sigh when you nudged your face against his tip, then you stopped at your opened mouth, waiting for him to pour himself over your tongue.

“ugh, you’re gonna swallow me, baby girl?” he hissed out, and he bit his lower lip when you nodded, widening your eyes naively at him.

he groaned, his abdomen tightening at the mere sight of you, hot cum sprouting out of his slit and landing on your stuck-out tongue. you held your breath, feeling the liquid dripping past your tongue before taking it back into your mouth and rolling it around. when you looked back up at minho, you grinned a little and stuck your tongue out at him.

his lips twitted at the sticky substance lingered on the tip, little lines stretching from your lips to your tongue. fuck, you filthy thing! how dare you make his heart all disheveled and gone.

“fuck, you’re so hot,” he muttered under his breath as you sat back on your heels.

you laughed, wiping your mouth and swallowing the last of him. “thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.”

he rolled his eyes then, the corner of his lips turning up into a graceful smile. he tackled you to the couch then, your hot body pressed against yours, but the atmosphere was more romantically chaste than sexual this time. you two were just two lovers naked in each others’ arms, putting complete and utter faith in each other that you would be held safe.

you two went quiet, basking in the silence. but you could hear him, his heart and his skin, pumping and brushing along yours.

would you have thought of this months ago when you first met minho? no. you have dreamt of it, but you never thought it could be true. and the dream was shattered when he suddenly decided to ghost you weeks ago.

but it didn’t matter now. you were here with him, he was holding you tightly like it was the only thing he knew to do.

“i meant to say it back,” you broke the silence first, “i love you too.”

despite knowing the answer already, minho still breathed out a sigh of relief anyway. he pressed a kiss to your head, his eyes closing calmly as he nodded. “i know.”

you smiled. minho has been a lot of things—a nice classmate, a good friend, and a few quick fucks. but you never indulged in the idea of you and him together. the idea that minho could be you and him together, that he could be a partner, a boyfriend.

the idea that minho could be an ‘us.’

#stayhavennet #inkidz #stray kids smut #skz smut #minho smut #stray kids dark hours #skz dark hours #i came to a realization that i never know what to put in the description tag so if anyone has any suggestions #or if there are anything i am supposed to put down please do tell me ;;;

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preciouspeterbparker · 3 years

Text

i wish i were, part 3

part one

part two

summary: it’s getting harder to pretend that everything is okay.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: step- inc*st, smut, underage sex, suicidal ideation (oops), ANGST, depression, self-harm mention (doesn’t actually happen, just intrusive thoughts), it’s all mentioned very casually so if this is triggering for you please don’t read!! <3 , ambiguous ending

this is the last part y’all! thanks for going on this ride with me. this was my first multi-chap fic and it kinda gave me the confidence to know that i’m capable of writing longer stuff without it being super shitty lol. sorry that it’s taken me so long!!

love you all

- bloo

It's getting harder to pretend that everything is okay.

Peter hates to say it, fuck, the thought physically pains him, but he’s glad the school year’s almost over. He’s glad that it’s almost time for graduation, time for Tony to leave for the special summer program MIT invited him to participate in.

He just wants to stop feeling like this, never wants to feel like this ever again. He always feels heavy, weighed down, like his clothes are soaking wet. It’s a feeling that goes deep into his bones, leaving him cold, aching, and tired.

It’s a good thing there’s not really any work left to do for school, other than exams; Peter spends most of his time in bed, headphones on and staring at the wall, the one that separates his room from Tony’s.

He keeps hearing Pepper’s voice in his head. He thinks you hung the moon, babe. It’s so cute. The words make him burn inside, make him want to dig his fingers in and peel his skin back until the feeling spills out of him. Until his blood spill out, until he doesn’t have to deal with this anymore- Fuck-

That’s how his brain is working, now. The intrusive thoughts have reached new levels. Peter’s always had them, he’s been passively suicidal for most of his adolescence, but it seems that any minor inconvenience has him ready to end it all. But it makes sense, he supposes. He’s already hurting, already weary and withdrawn. It really wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge.

Too bad he doesn’t really want to die. He just wants everything to...stop. So that he doesn’t have to feel like this.

And because the universe is obviously enjoying fucking with him, the first thing he sees walking out of first period is Pepper walking down the hallway, a faded black t-shirt hanging from her shoulders, exposing the bright red of her bra straps.

Peter recognizes the garment immediately.

It’s the Black Sabbath shirt, the one he’d kept under his pillow for over a week. The one he’d spilled multiple loads of cum onto before finally putting it in his laundry and carefully slipping it back into Tony’s room once it had been washed.

And now Pepper’s wearing it. Which means Tony gave it to her.

Peter stops, freezes right there in the doorway of Mrs. Flannigan’s classroom. He blinks, staring blankly in the direction the blonde had gone. His classmates protest behind him, pushing forward until he snaps out of it. Taking a few stumbling steps to the side, he leans back against the wall.

He feels like he can’t breathe. Some kid walking down the hall looks at him funny, and he realizes that there are tears rolling down his cheeks. Hastily wiping them away, he slowly pushes himself off the wall and starts making a hasty exit to the bathroom, head down and eyes trained on the linoleum.

Then-

“Hey, Peter- Wait, Pete what’s wrong, what happened?”

Shuddering, barely able to contain the sob that threatens to rip its way out, Peter ignores Tony, just pushes past him and doesn’t stop moving until he’s locked in the private restroom.

With his back to the door, Peter slides down til his butt’s on the cold ground, arms wrapped around his knees as he tries to muffle his cries as he sits there, shaking.

He just wants it to stop.

***

Something’s up with Peter, and Tony has a sinking feeling that it’s got something to do with him. But he doesn’t know what he possibly could have done.

They’d had such a nice time celebrating his birthday. He even had a new photo in his wallet, a polaroid of him and Peter cheesing goofily into the camera. Looking at it brings a smile to his face.

He really does love his little brother. Though he was young, Tony can remember life before Richard and Peter came into their lives. He remembers being an only child as lonely hours spent trying to entertain himself while his mom was busy working, trying to support him as a single parent. He’d been ecstatic upon meeting Richard and finding out that he had a little boy, too, that he was going to get a brother.

Tony knows that he and Peter haven’t been spending as much time together as they usually do, but he just chalked it up to it being his senior year. He wanted to spend the time with his friends, with his girlfriend, making the best of their last bit of time together before everything changes.

Peter’s words from his birthday ring in his head. I don’t want you to...forget me. Maybe he’s feeling left behind?

He’s only got a little over a week left until graduation, and then a week after that he leaves for MIT. That’s not much time at all.

The teen resolves to make some more time in his schedule to spend with his younger brother. Rhodey and the guys and Pep can deal for a couple days.

***

Peter’s pulled out of the clusterfuck of ruminative thoughts that have kept him awake for the past week by the squeak of his bedroom door being opened. He blinks under the covers, instinctively curling in on himself. He’s been under here for hours, but he still feels so cold.

Tony’s voice comes through the small crack he’s created between the door and the jamb, one eye peeking inside. “Peter? Are you….” He pauses and clears his throat before continuing softly, “Are you okay?”

The lump under the covers that is Peter shifts a little. His voice is dull and monotone when he replies, as apathetic as he can muster. “...Just leave me alone, Tony.” So much for that. Even saying his brother’s name hurts, a lot more than he thought it would, making his voice crack pathetically. Peter pulls his hands up to his chest and tries to quell the sudden surge of emotion that rushes through him, stifling a whimper. Please just go away.

Of course, instead of listening for once in his fucking life, Tony opens the door further so that he can slip inside. It closes behind him with a soft click and he takes a tentative step towards the queen bed that’s pushed up against the walls in the corner of the dark bedroom. "Pete…" Peter can hear him softly pad over to the nightstand and flick on the small lamp sitting there. His breathing in the quiet room is near deafening to Peter. “I…” He hovers there for a minute before sighing and sitting at the foot of the bed. “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. So that I can… I just want to help, Pete.”

The silence stretches on uncomfortably between them and even under the covers, Peter can feel the worried gaze burning him alive.

His skin is crawling with how badly he wants to crawl out of the covers and into Tony’s lap, the way he would when they were younger and he was upset. He needs to get Tony out of here. He can’t-

Peter moves so that his head is exposed, but he looks down at the bed rather than the other teen. "No, it’s fine. I mean I-, I’m fine," Peter sniffles, blinking furiously in an attempt to will the tears away. Fuck. His- fuck, his throat is tight, he can't swallow. His mouth falls open, a shuddering breath escaping as the muscles in his throat spasm. "I get it, Tony. I promise I get it, I really do. I do. She's-"

Fuck. He must really be exhausted, he wasn’t supposed to say that, wasn’t supposed to let on the truth of why he’s upset. Peter's eyes flit around like he's on speed, darting from one focal point to another without him truly seeing anything. His voice is hoarse, thin. It's as small as he feels. Miniscule. Insignificant. He’s gonna ruin everything but he can’t make himself stop. "I mean, I can’t- I can't compete with-" The words come to an abrupt halt, his mouth snapping shut.

Tony nudges Peter’s foot with his knee. “What? Peter.” He bumps against Peter again until the younger boy looks up to make eye contact.

That stupid fucking crease forms between his older brother's eyebrows. Peter wants to slap him. Or kiss him. Mostly he wants to scream.

"Peter, what? Compete with who? Are you talking about Pepper? I know we haven’t been spending much time together, but I’m gonna fix that before I leave, I promise. I don’t want you to feel left behind, not at all but I still don’t get- What’s this got to do with -," Tony starts, placatingly. But there’s something in his eyes, in the barely there tremor in his voice- And Peter suddenly realizes that Tony knows, has to know at least a little bit.

He swears his vision flashes red for a second. "It has everything to do with her," Peter all but shrieks, nails digging crescent-shaped welts into his palms. He feels overwhelmed, trapped. Like a hermit crab without its shell- vulnerable, horribly exposed. It comes out without his consent, and so does his fucking stutter. Fuck it all. "And I know- I know- I know I'm fucked up, Tony, I know it, but I love you, the way that you love h-huh-her.”

He takes a shuddering breath, reeling from saying the words out loud for the first time. “I'm sss-suh-sick, and g-gross and you- I know I'm a fff-fuh-freak and nnn-now- now you’re gonna hate me!" Peter sobs, his entire body shaking as he works himself towards an anxiety attack, a panic attack, a heart attack, fucking something. “I can’t even fu-fu-fu-fucking talk-” There’s snot and tears running down his face, he’s upset himself so much he can’t get through a fucking sentence. He knows he’s making a fucking fool of himself. He’s so stupid, why did he ever think that anything could come from this. He just wants it all to stop, he wants Tony to leave so that he can figure out some way to fix this, to make it all go away-

Tony’s staring at him, mouth parted, dark eyes wide and concerned. "Baby, what- I could never hate you, babydoll." It’s like the nickname comes out instinctually, the sound of Peter’s stutter instantly taking him back to the way he would console Peter when they were much younger, pulling him into his arms and rocking him like his own little baby.

He climbs on the bed and burrows into the nest of blankets and pillows that Peter has created, but he stays sitting up. His arms wrap around his baby brother and pull him up into his lap so that he’s close to his chest, in spite of the younger’s attempts to squirm away. “Calm down, Pete.” Tony presses his lips to Peter’s head when his cries only increase, frowning at how hot the skin of his forehead is. “You’ve gotta calm down,” he soothes. “C’mon, it’ll get better once you calm down, baby, you know that.” One of his hands glides up and down Peter’s heaving back.

Gasping, Peter shakes his head. He buries his face in the space where Tony’s pec and arm meet, taking a shuddering breath through his mouth. He’s trying to calm down but it’s not working. “I’m so- I’m so ssss-sss-suh-sorry, Tuh-Tony!” He feels like he’s gonna pass out. Shifting a bit, he pulls his head back in an attempt to get some more air. They almost make eye contact but he hurriedly looks away. He’s ruined everything. Tony hasn’t reacted to his confession yet but Peter knows that it’s gonna be bad, it’s gonna be so bad when he does.

What’s he got left to lose?

Peter can't help himself; he leans in. The tips of their noses brush, and he pauses there for a moment. He can hear Tony's sharp intake of breath through his own heaving as they finally lock eyes. The look in Tony's chocolate depths is- Peter doesn’t really know. Tony's never looked at him like this before, no one has.

“Tony,” he whispers shakily, breath catching in his throat before closing the distance between them. Time stands still for a moment before something breaks, the tension snapping like a rubberband pulled too tight. Their mouths meet and Peter immediately whines at the feeling of Tony’s lips on his, body instinctively arching up against his brother’s, too lost in it to feel embarrassed of how easy he is to get worked up.

It’s...everything he ever dreamed of.

Tony’s hands move to cup his cheeks, and Peter’s own hands find their way into the other’s dark, wavy locks as their mouths move against each other. There’s a swipe of tongue across his bottom lip, timidly asking for entrance. The younger obliges immediately, letting the warm muscle slide into his mouth where it meets his own. It sends shivers down his spine and he keens when his tongue is sucked into the wet of Tony’s mouth. His dick begins to fill rapidly in his sweats, leaving him feeling lightheaded and a bit disoriented.

Peter’s never made out with anyone before, but this-

He thinks he understands what all of the hype is about, now.

They pull apart, both gasping for air. Tony moves his head slightly, taking heaving breaths that blow onto the exposed skin of Peter’s neck, and his entire body seizes. The elder brother pauses, eyes darkening, before he latches his mouth there and sucking, hard- Fuck, Peter swears he’s about to cum in his pants.

“Tony.” The name is all but ripped from his throat, ragged and wanton and filthy sounding. He didn’t know he could feel this good. There’s precum steadily leaking from the slit at the tip of his cock, and though he can’t see it at the moment, he’s sure there’s a wet spot staining the crotch of his pants.

More moist air on the sensitive skin of his neck, now slightly red from being rubbed by the stubble covering Tony’s chin. “Shit, Peter,” comes the eighteen year old’s wrecked gasp and his hips shift, nudging his own erection against Peter’s thigh. “Fuck, fuck.”

Peter feels like he’s losing his mind. “Tony, Tony lemme- Wanna touch you, please-,” he says, unable to put together a full sentence. The cock he’s been dreaming about for almost a year is within his reach and he doesn’t know how they got here, has no idea what’s going to happen after, but he’s so fucking close to getting what he’s wanted for so long but thought he could never have. His hands flutter restlessly near the front of his brother’s basketball shorts and the bulge that’s pressing insistently against the loose material.

“Yeah,” Tony gasps, shifting Peter out of his lap so that he can lie down on the bed on his side and then he pulls Peter down with him, facing each other. “Me too, can I…,” he trails off, the fingers of his right hand running down Peter’s body from his shoulder down to the sharp point of his hip bone.

All Peter can do is nod jerkily, already reaching to tug at the dark red fabric that’s wrapped around the older teen’s waist. He lets out a desperate, frustrated sound when they get caught, but Tony’s hands take over for him, so he pushes his own pants down to his knees instead. His dick hangs down heavily once it's free of its confines, and there’s a quiet thud as Tony’s slaps against the dark hairs smattered across his lower belly.

Looking at his big brother’s cock for the first time in the dim lighting makes Peter’s mouth water. He can make out the slight shadow of a vein running the length of it, and his tip is big, a drop of precum sitting there just waiting for him to lick at it. He’s bigger than Peter, in both length and girth. It’s perfect, something right out of his fantasies.

Tony rocks his hips forward and their erections rub against each other, prompting them to let out synchronous groans. “Holy shit,” Peter whines, his own hips stuttering as they start to rut against each other in earnest. They quickly get into a slightly stumbling rhythm. It feels so good, their cocks both so hot, so hard. He already knows this is going to be over before it really even starts but he couldn’t care less. “Tony, Tony, yes-”

The brunette all but growls. “That’s it, Petey. Fuck, your cock feels so good, I never- Shit,” Tony pants before spitting into his palm and wrapping his hand around both of their shafts. “Fucking hell-” His toes twitch against the inside of Peter’s ankle. “Pete-”

Peter’s movements get jerkier, his hips stuttering at the feeling of Tony’s wet hand, the way their dicks are sliding against one another. He’s so close, so fucking close. “Please,” he whimpers, fingers digging to Tony’s shoulders where he’s holding on in an attempt to ground himself. HIs tongue licks at his brother’s bottom lip. “Wanna cum, Tony, lemme cum-”

“Yeah, fuck, yes Peter, cum, cum for me-” Tony groans, the speed of his stroking increasing. The rhythm is jerky, and it’s so uncoordinated when combined with their frantic undulating, but it feels amazing.

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Peter chants as his orgasm slams into him like a brick wall. His muscles lock up, and there are probably crescent-shaped welts in the skin of Tony’s shoulders and back. Thick, white ropes of cum shoot from his cock and make a mess in his brother’s hand. A whine escapes him as he grows more sensitive in Tony’s grasp.

The feeling of the warm liquid smearing over his erection is what does the older teen in. He crushes his mouth to Peter’s as he cums, fucking into his fist and rubbing against the other’s softening cock, licking lewdly into the wet of his mouth. “Pete,” he sighs, pulling away after he’s ridden out the wave of his orgasm.

“I love you,” Peter whispers contently, snuggling in and pressing a kiss to a freckle on Tony’s shoulder. This is everything he’s ever wanted, to be held in his big brother’s arms like this: like a lover. Maybe he was worried for nothing, maybe everything will be okay. Sure, they’ll have to hide it from everyone, especially Mom & Dad, but once they’re both in college… They have different last names, no one would ever have to know. They could be happy. Peter just wants to be happy, just wants this feeling to stay.

Tony shifts slightly and takes a deep breath, the puff of air ruffling Peter’s sweat-slick auburn curls. “Pete,” he says again, softly. “I love you too, I do.” He pauses, pulling back slightly and loosening his hold on the younger boy and rolling onto his back so that they’re both looking up at the ceiling. “But I-”

Peter freezes, the afterglow fading instantly. His heartbeat picks up, and there’s a slight ringing in his ears. He grips the sweat damp comforter in his hands, fingers twitching restlessly, stroking back and forth over the fabric in an attempt to soothe himself. No. No, no no, this isn’t- Tony- He can’t-

Another heavy sigh. “We can’t- We can’t do this again, Pete,” Tony says into the quiet of the night, still slightly out of breath from exertion. His voice is soft, gentle. He’s trying not to hurt Peter; Peter thinks that’s bullshit.

There’s a lead weight in his stomach. He feels like he’s drowning. He feels like he’s gonna be sick. He feels dirty. He feels-

He’s so tired of feeling.

Tony hesitates before pulling his shorts up and sliding out of the bed. He reaches out, brushing his fingers over Peter’s hand, jerks back when the younger immediately tenses and recoils from the touch. “I’m sorry,” he whispers before hastily making his way to the door, shutting it gently behind him.

“Just go, Tony,” he croaks before rolling over in the bed, away from the love of his life his brother.

Peter lays there for the rest of the night, unmoving, staring at the ceiling, tears running down the sides of his face, seeing nothing.

If only he could feel nothing, too.

***

“Where...where ya goin, Pete?”

Peter is putting clothes in a small duffel bag. He makes a mental note to remember to grab a new thing of toothpaste when he gets his toiletry bag together. “I’m, uh, gonna go stay with Ned. For a few days.” More like a few weeks, but he doesn’t need to tell Tony that.

It’s only been two days since they-

Peter’s already had enough. He can’t be here, he can’t skirt around the elephant that is his feelings towards Tony, can’t handle the awkwardness in the air as his stupid fucking brother tries to go on as if nothing ever happened. As if it meant nothing to him.

As if Peter meant nothing to him, means nothing to him.

Peter can...he can be okay with that. He has to be. But he can’t be here. He can’t.

“What about mom and da-” Tony cuts himself off, and Peter can tell that’s not what he is really trying to ask. Of course he’s so fucking disgusted, so fearful of someone else knowing, that he can’t even say it. No, what he really means is-

“I didn’t tell them I kissed you, Tony,” Peter hisses, tears burning in his eyes. He yanks the zipper of his bag closed, biting back a scream when it gets stuck for a second. “I’m not stupid. Why would I tell them what we did? I don’t want them to hate me, too. Don’t worry about what I told them, they said I could go.”

Maria and Richard are under the impression that Peter’s just stressed about his grades and going a little stir crazy. When they’d talked last night, Mom had frowned gently at him, mentioning how down he’d looked lately and letting him know that he was loved and cherished. Dad had actually been the one to suggest spending some time with Ned; maybe seeing his best friend would help pull Peter out of his funk.

If only they knew.

Tony gapes at him, an incredulous look on his face. “But what about Tuesday? You’re gonna miss my graduation? For what, to fuck around with Ned? Peter-”

Something in him snaps. He clenches his jaw, swallows harshly. Glares tearily at his brother. “Would you please just stop it?”

The taller boy sets his shoulders and crosses his arms, defiant. “I don’t want you to go.” His eyes are narrowed, searching Peter’s face. For what, the younger has no idea. Nor does he care.

“It doesn’t matter what you want, Tony,” he yells, glad that Mom and Dad are out at the grocery store, getting supplies for Tony’s graduation party. His voice cracks on his brother’s name. Always on his name. “Not anymore. I don’t- I know you don’t- Do you know how much it hurts me? To- to hear you? To know, to have to listen to-”

Tony’s mouth opens, but no words come out. “Hear us? You- you heard us? When?” His eyes are wide. He must realize exactly what Peter’s talking about, when he’s talking about, and he looks uncomfortable, vulnerable in a way that Peter’s never seen him before. Something ugly deep inside the younger teen feels satisfied for a moment before it deflates. He’s left feeling just as drained as before.

Tony continues, “Peter, I-” He cuts himself off, looks away.

Of course he can’t even come up with something to say.

“For fuck’s sake, Tony, you don’t have to explain everything to me!” It comes out as a sob. Peter feels like he’s a volcano; the words are erupting and he can’t do anything but allow it, powerless to stop them. “Nothing you say will make it better! I know you’re straight! I know it’s- that it’s wrong. I know Pepper is-,” he chokes, gasping. Why is this happening? Everything is going so fast. How is he freezing and on fire at the same time?

“She’s gorgeous and I’m just the path-th-thetic little br-brother who th-thinks you hung the moon.” Peter’s spluttering, flapping his hands at his sides as he tries to do something with the energy humming inside him. He wants out, he needs Tony to go so that he can finish packing. He has to get out of here.

Tony takes a step towards him. “No, Peter, how could you-”

Peter’s sniffling, eyes squeezed shut. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, trembling. Why won’t Tony just leave him alone? He just wants to be alone. “I know I’m ugly and I- I bet you can’t w-w-wait to go to MIT, to go away from me!”

“Babydoll,” is what leaves Tony’s mouth, so soft Peter almost doesn’t hear it. His hands are shaking as they land on his younger brother’s cheeks. Warm tears are gently brushed away by his thumbs. “Pete.”

Brow furrowed, Peter slowly opens his eyes and blinks the tears back in order to look at his brother. Tony looks...scared? What does he have to be scared of?

Peter tries to pull away, out of Tony’s grasp but the older teen just clutches him tighter. “Tony- What? It’s fine, j-just stop! Let me go, I need to finish-”

Tony closes his eyes and crashes their lips together.

don’t hate me

@spidey-sins @silkystark @thegreenmetblue @snailshome @hp-nv-221b @lemondrop313

if you wanna be untagged lmk

#starker #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #starkercest #bloo writes bad things (tm)

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rubix-writings · 3 years

Text

Punisher Pt. 10

Tenth part of Punisher. We’re halfway people. This is a Chicago PD/Fire imagine with an original character. I don’t own any of the plot points or characters from the show. Also, it doesn’t follow any particular season or sequence in the shows.

Series Summary: Josephine (Jo) never expected to find support and pure love when she left Los Angeles. She ran away to Chicago and was content with living an insignificant, hidden life. But everything changes when she walks into Molly’s to get a job.

Josephine (OC) x Jay Halstead

The italicized lines are internal thoughts of the character.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, teeth rotting fluff

I followed Voight’s advice to the letter, changed up my routines every day and had Hermann adjust my schedule at Molly’s. I wasn’t making the money on tips I used to with my closing shifts, but it’s necessary. I knew I made the right decision going to Voight as soon as I saw Jay. He knocked on my door the next night with a home cooked meal, he sat with me for a few hours giving me updates on all the things I missed. He came over every day after until I felt “well” enough to go back to work. It’s funny to think you can miss a place, but when I arrived back at Molly’s I was met with a warm welcome by everyone, instantly filling a longing I didn’t know was there.

“Hey Jo, can you sign for the kegs out front? Make sure they know where to go,” Stella asks before disappearing into the back. I make my way out the front entrance of the bar and sign for the kegs of beer. The two large men start wheeling the beer to the back entrance, I pray that they move quicker. The wind is making goosebumps rise on my exposed skin, making me seriously regret not bringing a coat. My leg shakes as the men are wheeling back the last of the order.

“Jo?” I turn and see Jay walking up.

“Hi,” I can’t contain my smile.

“What’re you doing out here, it’s freezing,” Jay takes off his coat and wraps it around my body. The warmth is immediate and the woodsy smell of his cologne dances across my nostrils.

“You’re gonna get cold,” I try to protest, but Jay stops me from taking the jacket off and continues to rub my arms.

“I wasn’t the one that was just sick for two weeks.” Oh right.

“Excuse me, can I get one more signature?” One of the workers asks. I grab the clipboard and sign my name, allowing them to leave to their next delivery.

“I never got to thank you for bringing me dinner,” I say when I turn to face Jay.

“You don’t need to, I think eating my cooking was hard enough,” he jokes.

“It was good!”

“Oh yeah? You really liked that rice?” I laugh.

“Yeah how does someone mess up rice?”

“I don’t know!” I hug Jay, resting my head on his firm chest. His head rests on top of mine. I close my eyes and focus on his heartbeat. I slowly pull away and look up to Jay. His large hands move to rest on either side of my face, he strokes my cheekbones with his thumbs. Jay moves down towards my face slowly fluttering his eyes closed, I gradually met him halfway, closing my eyes at the last second. His lips firmly press into mine before our lips start to move more frantically. I grip his shirt desperately trying to extinguish any space between us. Jay’s soft lips are a sharp contrast to the stubble on his cheeks. I feel like my lungs are going to explode from lack of oxygen, but I lean in as soon as Jay pulls away, not wanting this moment to end just yet. We both reluctantly pull away, Jay rests his forehead on mine. I slowly release Jay’s shirt from my grasp, trying to control my breathing.

“I should get back inside,” as much as I want to stay in Jay’s arms, I know Stella would come looking sooner rather than later and for right now I want to keep this between Jay and me.

“Yeah Will should be here any minute,” Jay pulls away a little more, looking in the eyes. His piercing blue eyes could melt anyone’s heart. I slip out of Jay’s jacket and hand it back to him before taking a few steps towards the entrance.

“I’m closing tonight,” I blurt out. “Any chance you’ll lend a hand?” A bright smile spreads across Jay’s face.

“I can do that,” I match Jay’s smile, and then quickly make my way back into Molly’s. I pick up a few empties on my way to the bar.

“Everything go okay?” Stella asks while popping the caps off two beers.

“Yeah, easy,” I say, avoiding eye contact. Luckily, Stella’s too busy to catch my blushing cheeks.

I busy myself by filling a couple of orders and opening new tabs. Jay and Will enter the bar, most of the Intelligence Unit is at the bar and they grab seats on the stools next to them.

“Hi Jojo,” Will snickers.

“Hi Willy Billy,” Will’s smile falls and he looks at Jay. “Yeah two can play that game.”

“How could you? Your own brother?” Will gasps. Jay shrugs and smiles at me. I grab the brothers some beers and slide them across the bartop. I didn’t notice Will analyzing Jay and me, all I could think about is the kiss we shared outside. It was needy and passionate, all the pent up tensions finally released.

“You two kissed!” Will announces. Jay and I snap out of it because of Will’s outburst.

“What?” Jay asks.

“You two finally kissed, or was it something more?” Will looks deep into his brother’s eyes. I look around the bar and see everyone staring, my heartbeat fills my ears, almost giving me a headache.

“Will,” Jay warns.

“You’re giving me nothing,” Will turns his attention to me, his gaze is probing. “It was just a kiss, but…. But you want it to be more.”

“Will,” Jay warns again, everyone else on the other hand finds this exchange incredibly hilarious.

“Alright, who owes who?” Will asks. Both Jay’s and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I watch stunned as people start exchanging cash, they mumble as they try to figure out who gets the payout.

“Did you know about this?” I ask Jay.

“No,” he runs his hand over his face, already exhausted by the night.

“This is insane,” I whisper. Stella walks up to the group and realizes what’s going on.

“Oh thank you! What’s my share?” She turns to Kevin and he puts some bills in her hand.

“You too?”

“Yeah, and I think this shows how good of a friend I am because I was right.”

“I quit.”

“Haha yeah good luck with that,” Stella chuckles before heading into the office.

Finally the last of the customers exit Molly’s leaving Jay and I in the bar. It was a night full of teasing and betrayal, the more of our friends that showed up at the bar the more the bet was brought up. Even Matt was in on it, he was mad we couldn’t wait another week otherwise he would’ve had the pot to himself.

Jay is putting empty chairs on top of the tables as I finish wiping down the bar top. I move to start cleaning the booths against the wall. When I stand back up, Jay’s behind me rubbing my shoulders.

“Are you feeling okay?” I lean back into his warmth.

“Yeah, I feel really good,” I look back up at him.

“I’m sorry about Will,” I laugh.

“That was unexpected for sure, but in the end it made telling everyone easier,” I try to lighten the situation so Jay doesn’t punch out his brother the next time he sees him.

“Still, it wasn’t his to tell,” he kisses my temple before grabbing the rag and cleaning the next booth. I follow him and grab the rag out of his hand to make him look at me.

“I can think of a few ways that you can make it up to me,” I flirt. Jay grabs my waist and pulls me in between him and the table.

“Yeah, I’m happy to oblige,” he leans down and kisses my lips. This time it’s slow and gentle. “Are you free Friday night?”

“I am, what do you have in mind?” I rest my hands on his chest.

“I’m going to take you out, make it a proper first date,” my hands move to rest on his biceps.

“First?”

“Yeah.”

“Some would say we’ve already had a first date.”

“When?”

“When you came over to my place.”

“What, no, that wasn’t a date,” he says trying to think through the nights.

“Well there was food, and just the two of us talking,” I try to reason. “Well actually we’ve been on multiple dates already.”

“No, it’s not a date unless I ask you, therefore those were not dates,” I smile. A glimmer of light catches my eye near Jay’s neck. A gold chain peaks out from his neckline. I slowly pull the chain out and run my thumb over the medallion. The details are so intricate, the name Saint Christopher is engraved into the metal. “It’s the saint of protection.”

“It’s incredible.”

“My mom gave it to me before I left for the war, she wore it everyday before that,” I tuck the necklace back into his shirt.

“That’s a beautiful memory.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s ok to miss her,” he nods.

“I know,” he replies sweetly. “C’mon let’s get moving,” he pulls me away from the table and smacks my butt.

“How sinful!” I joke.

“I’ll show you sinful,” he says and begins to chase me around the empty bar. He finally grabs my waist, pulling me back to him. Jay kisses my face relentlessly causing me to scream out in laughter.

Taglist: @whit85-blog @bestillmystuckyheart @nocturnalherb16 @5sos-imagine @miranda0102 @thexplosivegirl @annalism

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x oc #Chicago Fire #Chicago PD #chicago one #chicago fire imagine #chicago pd imagine #punisher

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howdyhowdyyalls · 3 years

Text

Angelic Illness

Pairing: Human!Cas x Reader

Summary: Reader helps take care of Human!Cas when he becomes sick for the first time.

Words: 3818

Warnings: Gets fluffy and happy but also angsty and sad. Never too graphic descriptions of illness (but like it’s the flu he’s not thriving lol).

A/N: Feedback is appreciated and requests are currently open.

Enjoy!

If there was anything that made Castiel upset, it was seeing you upset or injured.

This was made doubly true after he'd lost his divinity and experienced pain the way that humans do.

Being with Castiel as a human wasn't all bad; it was captivating and enchanting to watch him partake in new experiences and learn to love things he never even knew of. You'd never forget the way his face lit up when he enjoyed ice cream for the first time, or how relieving it was to finally see him sleep and be at rest for once instead of being in a constant state of alertness and unease. Still, being human is as devastating as it is beautiful. The image of his tear filled eyes after you were injured on a hunt and he was unable to heal you is permanently seared into your brain, occasionally bringing tears to swell in your own eyes. It is this Castiel that so frequently relied on his angelic abilities and constantly worried about his loved ones rather than his own well being that has ended up overworking his human body, and is now grievously ill for the first time in his entire existence.

You, Cas, and the Winchesters had been living in the bunker together for a few years now. The brothers knew of Castiel's current illness, but were also well aware of the fact that Cas was still rather embarrassed at the idea of needing help for once and uncomfortable with asking for or receiving it. While they both reminded him repeatedly that, "It's no big deal, we can just stay home this week," Cas was insistent that Dean still went on the hunt he'd been planning for a week. As hunters, all four of you knew all too well the dangers of going on a hunt alone. So, while Sam accompanied Dean on the hunt, you stayed behind in the bunker to look after the former angel.

Speaking of whom, you hadn't seen or heard him since the previous night, and it was nearing 2 pm by now. So, you made your way down the seemingly endless halls of the bunker to the room he'd been staying in to check in on him as you frequently did nowadays. You considered the fact that he may be sleeping, but, as if on cue, you could hear a series of coughs sound through the closed door, alerting you to both his presence and consciousness. You decided to gamble a tentative knock on the door, which was answered by a hoarse voice saying, "Come in."

You took this invitation and pushed open the door, revealing Cas sitting on the corner of his bed with his head in his hands and an empty box of tissues next to him. It was clear that he hadn't been sleeping well, and the exhaustion painted too clearly on his face made you shift uneasily with worry. Yet, you willed yourself to be still so as to not worry him. Cas's wardrobe had been limited to that same suit and trench coat for practically as long as you knew him, but you both knew that wouldn't do him any favors in helping him get comfortable now, so you'd told him last night to just look through either of the Winchester's closets for something more appropriate to wear. While he was seemingly against the idea at first, he now wore grey sweat pants and a dark blue flannel that you were almost certain belonged to Dean. Usually, you would compliment him on a new look, but his sleep deprived eyes and pale face made you retract the idea all together. Instead, you moved to sit with him on the edge of the bed before he interjected.

"Y/N, don't get too close to me. I don't want you to get sick too." Of course he would still be worried about you, even though he hadn't managed to keep food down in over a day or control the tremble of his hands. You knew better than to argue with him, so you opted to sit instead at the desk, which wasn't much further given the small size of the room.

"How did you sleep?" You inquired, trying to get him to elaborate in any capacity about how he way feeling.

"Fine," was his mumbled reply. Of course, you could tell this was complete bullshit, but again thought better than to argue with him right now.

"Wanna try eating something?" You offered.

"Just the thought of food makes me feel sick."

"I know, but you need to eat, Cas. You won't get better if you don't take care of yourself. Just try to eat a little, for me?" You implored him, and your final phrase elicited an earnest glance from him, followed by a soft sigh and nod of his head. Without another word, you left his room for the kitchen of the bunker, returning about fifteen minutes later with a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich to accompany it. Upon your reentry to his room, you found that he'd hardly moved since you left, only readjusting to drape a blanket over his shoulders. When he caught sight of you again, he offered a soft smile before taking the tray of food that you offered him and starting with a hesitant bite of grilled cheese. You'd known Castiel long enough to gage his emotions and when he wanted company or to be left alone, and it only took one look for you to see that he was clearly embarrassed to be seen like this and would prefer to be alone. You'd already tried telling him repeatedly over the past week that being sick was nothing to be ashamed of, and neither was asking for help; every time, your ideas were dismissed by him. However, you wouldn't let his incompetence keep you from doing your best to keep him healthy. He was stubborn, but so were you.

"You haven't showered in a while, have you?" You asked him and were met with a genuinely confused expression for a moment.

"Funny how easy it is to forget such simple and mundane human tasks," he mused with a now blank face.

"I'll go run the water for you then, how does that sound?"

"Y/N, you really don't have to-"

"Shh. Be back in a few." Despite his clear frustration and lack of sleep, you offered him a friendly smile before leaving his room and heading to the bathroom, turning on the shower and standing there with your hand in the stream for a moment, waiting for the boiler to catch on to the idea of hot water and adjusting the temperature until you deemed it alright. Once you were satisfied, you returned to Castiel's room, prompting him to stand when he saw you. However, he visibly swayed on uncertain legs, and you quickly darted over to him and held his shoulders, guiding him back to a sitting position on the bed. Even from this brief touch, you noticed his trembling, and though he was clearly frustrated that he wasn't able to care for himself more, you could tell that even he knew how ill he was and that walking on his own wasn't a great idea. And, for the first time in several days, he didn't immediately protest when you got within arms reach of him.

"Okay, so maybe not a shower. How about I go drop the drain plug and you can take a bath instead?" You offered, still determined to help him in any way you could. As soon as you saw his tentative nod, you went and did just that, returning to Cas's room only once the bathtub was full of warm water. This time, before giving him any time to stand on his own, you quickly took his hand and let him lean on you as you lead him down the hall to the bathroom. His breathing was laborious for such insignificant movement and you noticed that his weight still shifted unevenly, making you fearful that he may fall despite what support you tried to offer. However, once the two of you managed to make it to the bathroom safely, you left him at the door, saying, "I'll go get a change of clothes for you from one of the guys' rooms then just wait outside the door in case you need me." This proposition just earned another small nod from the former angel before he locked the bathroom door behind him and you went off to find spare clothes.

While Dean was closer to Cas's size, Sam's bedroom was closer, and you'd be lying if you said that you weren't a little nervous about Castiel falling or fainting in the bathtub. So, you opted to just grab the first sweatshirt and sweatpants that you found in Sam's closet before returning to the bathroom door. After about 30 minutes, you could hear the water begin to drain from the tub, so you knocked on the door before mentioning, "Hey, Cas? I have some clothes here for you, can you unlock the door real quick?" A few seconds later, your ears picked up on the faint click of the door's lock coming undone and you pushed open the door to see a Cas with damp, messy hair and a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. You dropped the clothing on the toilet seat before closing the door behind you as you waited in the hall once more, and only a minute later Cas emerged in Sam's clothes. You were unable to keep back the laugh that the sight brought you- his hair was a mess, and Sam's pants were so long on Cas that they covered most of his feet as well. For the first time in too long, even he managed to giggle at this, and the sound brought joy to your heart in a way that you didn't know you needed. However, even this small expression of joy only led him to have another coughing fit, draining the grin from your face and quite effectively replacing it with an expression of worry.

After helping him back to his room, he opted to lay down in bed once more as he tried in vain to get comfortable. Try as you would to help him, you were met with constant refusal and you knew now would be no different. Now, he really did just need some space. So, you added, "Come get me if you need anything, ok?", a phrase you found yourself saying quite often recently, before turning and closing his door behind you as you finally walked to your own bedroom.

With Sam and Dean gone, that put full responsibility for taking care of Castiel in your hands. Of course, he was a grown man and could manage himself, but this was something he was unfamiliar with and your protective nature led you to be rather thorough in your care for him. This meant that you yourself had hardly slept well the past few nights either, staying awake worrying about and checking on your friend every few hours. Now, you took this opportunity to take a late afternoon nap, and you were out as soon as your head hit the pillow.

...

Some time later, you weren't sure quite how long, you were naturally dragged from your slumber. It has been a marvelous nap, comfortable and restful and calm. However, as the real world came back to surround your senses and replaced pleasant dreams of sunflower fields on a bright, sunny day, you remembered just where you were and what the real world entailed. You rolled over to check the time on your phone, grimacing at the light that was too much yet for your still-adjusting eyes. 11:49 pm. Shit. You'd been asleep for several hours. Not that you didn't need it, but you certainly weren't going to be able to sleep well tonight after that. As your mind filtered through the possible activities you could use to fill another sleepless night, your mind fell to the same one it always did this week.

Go make sure Cas is okay.

So, you did. With how little sleep he's been getting, and assuming he was able to eat what you offered him earlier, you figured he'd surely be asleep by now. Still, you checked on him anyways. Creeping down the halls of the bunker to his room though, you froze in your steps as an unfamiliar and unwelcome sound filled your ears.

Crying. It was so quiet, you could barely make out what it was, and he was surely making an effort not to be as discreet as possible. Yet, it was undeniable- behind closed doors, Castiel was crying. Admittedly, you questioned whether you should even approach him or not; he's never been one to get too teary-eyed in front of others, and you didn't want to embarrass or upset him even more. But you'd lost count of the number of times that Cas has let you cry on his shoulder and held you in his arms to comfort you when no one else would. He deserved and needed your support and love right now.

So you knocked on the door, alerting him to his presence. Immediately, the soft cries stopped, and there was a long pause before a weak voice invited you inside once more. Upon entry to his room, the scene in front of you made your heart feel like it might crack in pieces. The angel was sitting with his knees to his check at the head of the bed, his eyes red and cheeks tear-stained. Yet another box of empty tissues now sat on his night stand, next to the tray of food that you'd offered him earlier. Which, you noticed, was hardly touched. He'd managed to eat half the sandwich and nothing more, which was far too little for a man his size but at least it was a start. Despite his immediate interjections about getting too close to him, you moved to sit on the other side of the bed with him, not touching him but still very close to him and though you tried to look him in the eyes, he continually avoided your gaze. Normally, he would try to convince you he's fine right now. Even though you both knew he was lying, he would try. Or he would just make a point of being alone so that you didn't see him like this. But the fact that, for the first time, he allowed himself to openly cry in front of you showed you just how much he was hurting.

"Cas, are you ok? What can I do to help?" You questioned him. Clearly, he wasn't okay, and you both knew this, but you weren't used to seeing him like this and didn't know what else to say.

"How... how do you do this?" Was his response, choked out through heavy breathing and forced down sobs. "Being human... It's awful. It hurts, and its miserable and pointless-"

"Shh. I know it hurts right now Cas. And from the perspective of an angel, perhaps it is pointless. But it can be wonderful too. Remember those flowers you kept to press in a lore book from the bunker because you said they were pretty, or how fun it was to go and feed those ducks in the park, even if one was a little mean? The world is cruel and scary but it's also breathtaking and wonderful. I know you're in pain but remember how you told Sam, Dean and I that you've fallen in love with humanity? To be human is to hurt sometimes. And sometimes, it hurts a lot." You tried to comfort him, daring to place a hand over his. It was only then that you realized how much he was trembling, but from crying or from illness you couldn't quite tell. To your surprise, he turned his hand over underneath yours and allowed you to lace your fingers with his, giving his hand a soft reassuring squeeze.

"But I... I'm not strong enough to be human. I'm nothing as a human, Y/N- I'm tolerable at best even with divine abilities, and now without them I can't-" This sentence from him caught you completely off guard, and you accidentally cut him off mid-phrase.

"Cas, what are you saying?"

"I am nothing without my powers. I'm of no use to you or the Winchesters, and I can't even help myself-" This time, you cut him off on purpose.

"Castiel, listen to me. It's never about 'use' or your powers. We all love you dearly for who you are, divine or not. Hell, I've always been human, and a mediocre hunter. I constantly rely on Sam and Dean- they've saved my ass more times than I can count. But they still keep me around and call me family, and I've never had powers or anything that they can 'use'. Because that's just it- it isn't about usefulness or what you can give others. You're family, Cas, and we all care about you for who you are. I wouldn't be here taking care of you if I didn't. You aren't a liability, or a burden, or something to be used. You are Cas, and it is a blessing to have you in my life, angel or human or anything else. And don't you forget it. And don't you dare say that you aren't worth it because damnit Cas, you are everything to me." You huffed, almost unaware of the tears that threatened to spill over your eyelids. Cas's breathing had almost evened out by now, and your rambled outpour of emotions was met by silence for a few moments, with the only indication that he'd heard you being a gentle squeeze of your hand. Finally, he spoke.

"Thank you Y/N, I needed to hear that. I don't deserve you, and you don't deserve to have to put up with the evils of this world. But for both, thank you," he sighed, leaning his head back to rest against the headboard now and letting out a long, shaky breath. This time you took a moment to collect your thoughts before responding to him.

"What can I do to help you? Would you like more to eat or drink? Have you slept?" You interrogated him, desperate to see your friend feel better.

"I, uh, actually threw up all that I ate earlier, but thank you anyways. And no, I... I haven't been able to sleep for more than an hour at a time for days."

"Well here, let's get you comfy then," you suggested, freeing your hand from his as you rose to your feet and walked around the bed to his side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder to move him into a laying position before you brought the blankets over him and up to his shoulders. Tears still stained his face, but at least his breathing seemed to be more even now. Besides, this was the most he'd let you near him or help him at all recently. So, you tried to help him as much as he would allow right now.

"Is there anything else I can do? You took your medicine, right? It's a shame we didn't get you the flu shot earlier- not that it would've made sense at the time to give it to an angel, but it couldn't have hurt to give you it when Sam, Dean and I got it..." You started to ramble on accident, letting your voice trail off as you met his gaze. Though his skin was worryingly pale and his hands trembled when he moved, he still managed a weak smile, and this, in turn, brought a grin to your face as well. After only a moment of eye contact, though, his eyes quickly darted away from yours in a way that wasn't quite like him.

"Cas? You okay?" you inquired.

"Y/N... could you- and it's completely okay if not, I understand, but.. I really haven't been able to sleep on my own and I don't know what to do and I just thought-"

"Would it help if I slept here with you, Castiel?" you offered to finish his sentence, both to ease your curiosity and to end the painful awkwardness in his run-on sentence.

"Only if you'd like to," He admitted in a quiet voice. Without another word, you gently lifted one corner of the blanket and slid into the bed next to him, him scooting back a bit to allow room for you. Once situated, you let the blanket drape over the both of you and you took the opportunity to nestle a little closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder as his arm instinctively fell around your waist. You could hear a slight rasp in his lungs with each breath he took, but as his breathing became more regular and relaxed, it hardly bothered you. However, it was the vibrations coming from his chest with his next words that would catch you off guard a bit.

"Being human is so similar but so different to being angelic," he whispered. "With both I feel love, but not quite the same."

This comment piqued your interest, so you encouraged him to elaborate, asking, "How so?"

"I... I love things as an angel. I love people and humanity and feel fond of those I care about. But not like when human. I've never liked the physical before, like food or a warm bath or holding someone I love. I... I've never felt the strong urge to hold someone close to convey that I love them," he confessed, bringing an inevitable heat to your cheeks given your current situation.

"Are... you... saying that you love me, Castiel?" You breathed with a shakier voice than you would've liked, a bit fearful of his response.

"Yes, I suppose I am." Was his confident reply, before placing a soft kiss to your forehead and adjusting the two of you so that his arm fell around your shoulders and yours over his chest, each holding one another gently. You could still feel him trembling and could still feel how unnaturally warm his skin was to the touch, but you could also hear his content sighs and, eventually, soft snoring.

As you drifted off to sleep with him, many thoughts slowly drifted through your head as well, though none of them quite stuck. However, there was one prevalent one that played a bit louder than the rest.

The world is cruel and scary but it's also breathtaking and wonderful. And as the lines between reality and dream became hazier by the minute to you, all while in the arms of the angelic man that loved you, you knew this all too well to be true.

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #Cas #castiel #cas x reader #castiel x reader #x reader #fluff #angst #ill #misha collins #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #cw #cw supernatural

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glassartpeasants · 4 years

Text

Crying In The Club .5

Overhaul x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, a bit of happiness for once?, mentions of past abuse,

*Part 1* *Part 2* *Part 3* *Part 4* *Part 5*

A/N: HE HO everybody. Like i promised, they would both be out today. Am I tired? Yes. Am i rushing through his chapter since my dumbass thought it would be cool to procrastinate? Yes. But none of that shit matters now. Its out and we are all good.

Edit: Did I fall asleep while writing this and never finished it? Yes. Was my laptop almost dead when I woke? Yes. Am I sorry for not keeping the promise? Yes. I is big sorry U^U

Taglist

@winchester-wifey @hello-lucky-luka

~~~

You haven’t left the safety of your bathroom in about a week. I mean what was the point of even going out there if all your gonna remember on how horribly you wanted to get out of this shit show. You felt like nothing mattered anymore. Why should it? You were dragged away from all of your friends and family. You had no one except Overhaul. Which practically left yourself friendless except for the voice in your head.

When was the last time you even ate? You remember eating the afternoon you escaped. Soo about a week then? You hold your tummy as painful growls rumble from it. Causing you to groan in pain. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you sighed.

When was the last time you moved from your little spot behind the door? To long...

Kai-Overhaul hasn’t even tried to talk to you. Not even once. Good. You didn’t want to see his disgusting face anyways. It was the same face that gave you nightmares when you slept at night. God even thinking about that prick has your stomach turning as you resist the urge to vomit. Insignificant selfish bastard-

“Miss (Y/N)?” You sigh. It was Hari, Kai’s right hand man. You wanted to hate him but you realized that would be childish. The man never did anything to harm you, he was only trying to follow orders.

“Yes?” You reply softly, Your voice was dry from not talking in awhile. You lick your lips in order to just have some mostiure.

“You can leave the base.” Your eyes shot open so wide you thought they would pop out of your skull. Scrambling to get on your feet you pull open the door. Eyes wide open hoping he wasn’t lying to get you to open the door.

“What?! Are you serious?!”

“Yes Overhaul told me to tell you that. saying how he found someone better for the job.”

A smile etched it’s way into your face. Tears of joy fell down your face as you hug Hari. You pulled him in a bone crushing hug as you thanked him over and over again. You let him go before you ran out the door faster then you have ever ran before. You wanted to leave before Kai changed his mind.

Your feet hit the cement as the tears of joy slowly slid down your cheeks. You ran so fast that your legs felt as if they could fall off your own body. But that pain was welcomed. You would take this pain over staying with Overhaul any day.

Your feet stopped when you had bumped into someone. Your momentum of running knocked down the man and you stumbling back, trying not to fall on your ass.

“Oh my god i’m so sorry!” You profusely as you lend a hand to the fallen man so he could get up. The man took your hand and you couldn’t help but smile and nervously laugh as you enjoyed how soft the mans hands were.

“No it’s okay, I should have looked at where I was going.” You both laugh a little before you rub the back of your neck.

“Hey since you knocked me over how about you let me take you to the cafe nearby. Me falling on my ass has made me thirsty.” You laugh as you let your hand fall to your side.

Looking at the man there was no lying that he was some good ass eye candy. But you were still a little shaken up and weary about what happened not to long ago. But then again you haven’t eaten in about a week...

“You know what? I’d love too.”

~~~

Kai walked down the hallways of the Shie Hassakai on his way to Pops to tell him about his ‘break up’ with you. Finally he got rid of you. No more fighting, no more complaining, no more escape attempts,

and no more of the feeling of your soft lips against his own.

Kai shook his head at the last thought. Why do you plague his mind? How dare you distract him from his work? His goal is on the line here! He can’t have some annoying pest bothering him.

“Finally I’m free of that pest.”

“Kai just the man I’m looking for. Hows your girlfriend?”

“We broke up.”

“Oh, i’m sorry to here that my boy. Don’t worry stuff like that happens!” Pops patted Kai’s back.

“Yeah.” Kai laughed. Trying not to give the secret away.

‘I just met someone new, that’s all.” Kai lied, well kinda. He had met someone new who would do the work for money.

‘You know (y/n) didn’t do it for the money.’

“Oh well that’s too bad. I hope you let her down easy.”

“I did.”

“Well I must be off, see you later my boy.” With that Pops walked off. Leaving Kai to take a long sigh. Stopping in his tracks as he rubbed his temples.

Now thinking about it, you never even asked for anything in return, not money, not jewelry. Nothing. You just...did it. Even after everything he put you through you never asked for anything. Why? Why didn’t you ask for something? What was your plan?

‘Maybe she was afraid?’ Thoughts ran wild in his mind before his phone rang, making his pants pocket vibrate.

Opening the phone he noticed it was the new girl. Picking it up before moving it away from his ear. immediately regretting his decision.

Ugh he couldn’t stand her voice. So insufferable. Sounded like a drying dog. At least your voice was smooth like honey. Yours so calming and sweet-

“No stop it!” Kai yelled at himself. You need to get out of his mind. You were plaguing it like the disease you were. How dare you? How could you make him so confused on what he feels about you. He should hate you!

Kai swore if he thought about you one more time, he would go insane.

~~~

You couldn’t help but giggle. The man was just a charmer! Not to mention he has a great sense of humor! You just couldn’t get enough of him and his jokes. Man it felt amazing to be laughing again, this time knowing you weren’t going to get killed for it.

“So why were you running earlier?” His question caught you off guard but it was fair. You were running like your life depended on it. To you it felt like you were. But to him and looking through his eyes it was only reasonable.

“Ex-boyfriend troubles.” You laugh nervously before taking a sip of your tea. Might as well drink something cold before fall and winter roll around. The taste of the tea hitting your tongue gave you s little smile. You look at the tea before turning your attention back to the man in front of you.

“Well don’t worry, I’m here.” You both laugh as you put a strand of lose hair behind your ear. Man this felt nice to talk to someone who you weren’t afraid of.

“Good to know.”

~~~

‘Oh god can this woman shut up already?!’ Kai thought to himself as he tried to ignore the chattering that came from the woman next to him. Who kept pointing at useless stores that he wished would just disappear if he stared at them long enough.

Since he made the deal with the new girl, with her getting paid and everything, she demanded that they went to the mall together.

“Hey are you listening to me?!” The girl as she screamed at Kai.

“Yes (R/N).” God this woman was going to be the death of him. If he killed her right there would anyone tell on him?

“Okay good! The take me to bath and body works! They’ve got a sale going on!” Ugh he hated that store with a burning passion. All those unholy scents made him want to pass out.

Once they entered the store Kai cringed as all the scents that the store contained filled his nose. Making his nose hurt, causing him to crinkle his nose. He shook his head before staying at the front of the store trying his best to avoid all the horrific scent that this store held. He watched as all of these people in such a closed space pretty much bumping elbows. Disgusting.

“You too man?” Kai turned his head to see another male only a few feet away. By the looks of him, he was in the same exact situation.

“I fucking hate people.”

~~~

“Wow this is so much fun!” You laugh as the man showed you his favorite places in all of the city.

“This....this is nice.” You smile genuinely at the man.

“It was, can I walk you home?” You were about to say sure but then you remembered that your ass was pretty much homeless now. Well shit. Kai had you in that room for so many months that you knew your lease with your landlord would have been broken. Pretty much gone.

“I-uh...I use to live with my boyfriend and then he kicked me out hehe...” Great now he was going to think you were some sort of -

“That’s too bad. I know a place where you could live. It’s a place where you can live there and stay until you get back onto your feet again.” The man smiled at you and you couldn’t help the tears of joy slide down your face. You hug him in desperation hoping it all wasn’t just some sick nightmare.

“This is the nicest thing someone has ever done for me.” Tears drenched your face as you sniffle at bit.

“Hey I’m just doing what my father did to my mom.” The man chuckled. You couldn’t help the giggle that crept out of you as well.

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #bnha #mha #overhaul angst #chisaki overhaul #mha overhaul #chisaki kai #kai chisaki x reader #kai #shie hassaikai #kai chisaki #chisaki x reader #chisaki kai x reader

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Crack

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Angst/Family Characters: Scott

This is entirely @gumnut-logic‘s fault. ‘Twas her suggestion that got my muse raving away, therefore we are blaming Nutty for this. Also in typical Nutty style, it’s apparently not content with only being a oneshot, so there will hopefully be a follow up to this later. I’ll hold off on crossposting this until I know for sure, but from the ruckus in my head from certain brothers, I think more is likely.

When a storm gets too intense for Thunderbird One to fly, Scott has to hunker down and wait it out.

Scott loved Thunderbird One. She was his other – better – half and he’d racked up more flight hours in her than any other craft during his extensive piloting career. Together, pilot and Thunderbird, they had faced down many situations, and together, they always got through. State of the art, the very cutting edge of aeronautical engineering and kept that way through constant upgrades from Brains, there was very little that could stop her.

Not even Scott was willing to pilot in this storm. It had been fine – some buffeting winds and even some sheering ones as they’d danced around the mountains together, collecting stranded and struggling climbers – but barely moments after he’d dropped the shivering but grateful people off safely at base camp and got back into the air, it had turned severe.

Worse than severe. Thunderbird One had told him, loudly and with many red holograms, that she was not interested in flying in this weather, Scott, and through a crackled line with storm interference, John had been saying something, too. He hadn’t heard what, but he hadn’t had to.

Scott knew he had a reputation for recklessness. He also knew that he was stubborn, and a damn good pilot. It was that latter point that had had him guiding his weather-tossed Thunderbird onto the first clear and stable area he could find to wait out the storm. Contrary to popular belief, he knew exactly what his limits were.

This? This was beyond them. Thunderbird One, as amazingly beautiful a craft as she was, had sacrificed much in the way of stability for speed and manoeuvrability. Winds whipping around crags with no discernible pattern, and too many jagged edges waiting to snag a plane that blew too close, were the worst possible flying conditions for her. Scott had no intentions of adding to the list of names in their family that had met their end to a mountain or in a plane crash.

There were too many names on that list already.

Hopefully, this wouldn’t last too long. With the weather disrupting signals from Thunderbird Five, he couldn’t even tell John that he’d landed safely, let alone get any data on the storm itself. Scott might not have been able to hear John’s last transmission, but he’d got enough data from it to know his brother was worried. With his reputation for recklessness, there was a reasonable chance that his family feared he’d try to make the journey home regardless. Radio silence for too long would do nothing to abate their fears.

Scott just hoped the rest of his family were safe, wherever they were in the world right then, and not caught up in this or another storm.

There was a crack that could have been lightning, or could have just been something shifting under the unrelenting winds on the peaks around him. With his link to Five disrupted, he couldn’t check the weather data, and leaving the safety of his warm, dry Thunderbird to investigate didn’t appeal to him in the slightest.

He wasn’t scared of mountains, but he was never going to forget the day one claimed Mom’s life. He was also cold and wet from his earlier forays into the weather, before it got quite so terrible and he was still saving lives. There was a spare uniform in a locker in the cargo bay, and towels to dry off. Logically, the sensible thing to do would have been to take the time to get changed, rather than sit in wet clothes, water dribbling down his face from where his hair had got wet at the base camp. He shouldn’t have taken the helmet off, but talking to people with it on once they were out of danger always felt a little too impersonal.

Scott’s relationship with logic was somewhat on and off. While John stuck to it like glue and his one true love (a title also shared between space and physics), Scott listened to it when it suited him.

With his communications all cut off by the storm, there were no witnesses. Cold, wet, and memories of Mom’s final hours a little too close for comfort, Scott pulled his knees up to his chin, muddy boots cramming on the edge of his seat and arms wrapped around his shins to keep them in place.

Outside, the wind howled threats, a combination of haunting shrieks and furious bellows. Rain lashed down hard on the cahelium hull of his Thunderbird, a constant thundering that echoed around the enclosed space and sounded much too loud for drops of water. Randomly, One would shudder as a gust buffeted her too hard from one side, or whipped around under an extended wing, trying to force her up into the air.

All the grapples at her disposal were firmly deployed. The ground she was perched on was more likely to peel away from its surroundings than she was from it; Brains took no chances, and Scott was thankful for that. Still, every time she juddered, or leaned slightly to one side, his grip on his shins tightened.

He wasn’t scared. He just knew that in the face of nature, he was insignificant. The storm and mountains didn’t care for a single, squishy human in a plane. If they ever did, International Rescue wouldn’t be needed.

Mom would still be alive.

Scott trusted Thunderbird One and the genius behind her with his life, but that didn’t make it any easier to be stranded in similar terrain to where Mom had taken her last breaths.

Water dripped from his hair onto his knees. There was the familiar sensation of mud on his face, no doubt rubbed there by the uniform he was pressing it against. Something wet trickled down the back of his neck, slipping inside his collar.

He should get changed. Dry off, at least, but it was so long since Scott had last been truly alone that those ideas were barely fleeting observations in the back of his mind. Even if he was shaking as the cold seeped in, past the neoprene defences and deep into his bones.

It was definitely the cold, and not fear.

Scott wasn’t scared.

Just alone, with the wind experimenting how many different eerie and threatening noises it could make and nudging at the single man-made item in its clutches as though determined to tear it from the mountains. With the rain, hammering down with what sounded like enough brute force to dent the metal.

With the periodic cracks that could be mountainside or lightning. Cracks that sounded too much like the one he heard when he was fourteen and the mountain stole his Mom.

The crack that changed his life forever.

Trembling fingers clung harder to neoprene-covered calves, arms wrapped so far around his legs he might as well have been a human pretzel. More moisture seeped through onto his knees, too close to where his eyes were pressed to be a coincidence.

He wasn’t crying, the water from his hair had just run into his eyes on its way down his face.

Thinking about Mom hurt. Somewhere in his heart, Scott knew that he’d never properly mourned her. Sure, there had been the funeral, and the sombre air of tragedy permeating through their home that had never really left, but when Mom had died, Dad had been on the Moon and there had been four tearful faces looking up at him.

Four little brothers that needed him.

By the time all four little brothers maybe didn’t need him to always be there, he’d been nineteen and then the Zero-X had happened and-

Scott cut his thoughts off there. Mom was one thing. Dad another. Both simultaneously was more than he could handle.

His brothers came first, always, and he’d pushed his own grief into a box in the back of his mind to be dealt with later – a later that still hadn’t come. A later Scott kept pushing back further and further because he had to be strong and time alone was a rarity. Even his Air Force stint had seen him surrounded by squadmates and never a moments’ peace. Now, with International Rescue and at least one brother only a word away at all times, he was still never alone.

This storm, these howling winds and lashing rains and maybe-lightning-maybe-mountain cracks, was the first time he’d been alone.

Scott gripped his calves so tightly he pinched the skin against neoprene and tried not to jump when another, louder crack split the air.

Closer.

It was probably lightning, logic told him. These mountains were ancient bastions of stability, not known for excessive rockfalls or worse. For John, that would be enough. John could cling to logic and shut out the niggling doubts in a way Scott sometimes found himself envious of.

Scott’s own hold on logic, less than tight at times, didn’t let him find security in the thoughts.

He was safe in Thunderbird One. He knew that. The harness was still lowered, and despite his boots muddying up the edge of the seat instead of the footplates, he was secure. Cold, wet and definitely only trembling from those two factors and nothing related to those cracks, but secure.

He should dry off and get changed, mitigate the shivering and cut off any reasons for the medics of the family to eye him critically and declare him grounded until they were confident he wasn’t going to get sick, but that meant leaving the seat.

The fourteen-year-old whose life had been irrevocably changed by a single crack did not want to leave the seat. With no witnesses to see the teenager he’d never really got to be yanked to the surface by a storm, Scott couldn’t bring himself to move, either.

He wasn’t scared. There was no fear paralysis kicking in and keeping him there. He just… he just…

He just remembered that day too well, and it established itself more and more firmly at the front of his mind with every crack that snapped into his ears.

He just wanted his Mom back.

It was nearly half his life ago, now, since she’d been stolen. Another year and he’d cross over into the unstable realm of having lived longer without her than with her.

Everyone thought he was a Dad’s boy. Of course they did; he’d always looked up to his father, watching his exploits with wonder on his face and a determination to follow in his heart. But Scott remembered long months without Dad, when he was off on the Moon or even Mars and it was just Scott, an ever-increasing number of little brothers, and Mom.

He loved Dad, but it was Mom that had raised him. Dad had been – still was – his hero, but Mom had been Mom. Mom had taught him to be kind, demonstrated what unconditional love meant and even tried to get the little boy who always had to go fast to understand patience.

Then she was gone and he tried his best to pass those lessons down but he’d never been as good at it as Mom. She’d been such a huge influence on his life, but in a year he’d have lived longer without her than with her, and that box of grief was still stuffed in the back of his head for a later that would never come.

A later that sensed he was alone and all his excuses why he couldn’t address it now were being blown down by an aggressive wind or washed away by a torrent of rain.

Crack.

He didn’t remember what Mom looked like. Not exactly. Sure, he had photos, and old holovideos, but things got lost, like the exact colour of her eyes, or the aura of love she exuded no matter what. He didn’t remember her perfume, or even if she’d worn any.

He didn’t remember the last thing she said to him. It could have been don’t forget your gloves, or keep an eye on your brothers or it could have been something else entirely. When the topic came up with his brothers on the rare occasions they talked about her, the day, he lied and said it was go carefully and I’ll see you at the bottom.

He just remembered the crack, and a faceless man saying sorry, kid, but she didn’t make it. Remembered four terrified faces looking up at him and needing their big brother to fix something that could never be fixed. He’d tried anyway.

Thunderbird One lurched again, fighting the storm trying to fling them away from their relative safety lashed to the ground, and Scott jerked against the harness like a rag doll.

He didn’t ease his death grip on his legs. Couldn’t. Pressed his forehead tighter to the apex of his knees and let more mud from the uniform smear his face, mingling with the water running down the skin.

The storm would pass. Thunderbird Five’s connection would be restored and then he wouldn’t be alone again as John hovered for the entire flight home and the rest of his family chimed in over comms. Scott knew that, clung to it as he tried to drive his fourteen-year-old self back into the box he should never have left. Tried to shove the memories, both the faded and the too clear, of Mom back in that box, before the thoughts overwhelmed him.

He just had to sit, cold, wet and shivering with boots muddying up the seat, in the safety of Thunderbird One and wait out the storm. Then he could go home, get changed and dry off and do his best to ignore the disapproving clucks from the family medics as they threatened him with the words trying to make yourself sick and grounded. Then everything would be normal again and the box in the back of his mind could be brushed aside for a later that he never wanted to come.

Crack.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #crack #thunderangst

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tenmillionwhumperflies · 3 years

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Cloudwalker Series Part 8

Alright, so I did write this up a while ago and kinda forgot to post it, but here we are. This part is where Ihuka gets his wounds treated and Dyan has to watch and gets upset. I don’t think there’s any warnings I need to point out.

Master-list Here

Approx WC: 1200

Dyan struggled to carry Ihuka up the stairs and out of that horrible stinking dungeon. He struggled to keep him upright and drag him along to his room with Ihuka panting for breath and crying out in pain. There was so little he could do to help until he got him upstairs. Avizon, their master, would care for him, he hoped, but if not maybe he’d be able to offer some help, even if it was just comfort.

Ihuka collapsed halfway up their stairs, at which point Avizon grumbled and lifted him up using his powers. Ihuka squeaked immediately, he didn’t want to get hurt anymore. Ihuka was so hurt and so scared of what he might do to him. But Avizon didn’t hurt him anymore. He took him to have a bath and eased him down in warm water. Ihuka whimpered, tense and bracing, not comfortable in the water but too afraid to get out. Dyan was allowed to kneel by his side and help clean him, to offer him some comfort, to help him calm, but it wasn’t easy. Ihuka flinched at the slightest sound, ducked under every bold movement. He hugged his knees and tried to just stay small, insignificant, out of trouble.

“That will do for now,” Avizon said, once the thick of the grime was off. “Help him out, I’ll have to change the water.” Dyan did so, wrapping him in a towel as he stood on shaky legs and eased him into his lap, covering him with his wings to help keep him warm. Dyan nuzzled against the side of Ihuka’s neck, hoping it was some sort of comfort.

“You hurt him so badly, master...” Dyan whispered, seeing the blood easing its way out of reopened wounds. “Why did you have to hurt him like this? To take his feathers...” “If I didn’t do something drastic, he wasn’t going to listen, now hush.” Dyan dipped his head back down, focusing more on trying to help Ihuka. The bath was filled and he was ready to go back in. Avizon lifted him in, taking his time so as to not disturb his wounds. “Wash him. I will be back soon to treat the wounds.”

Dyan sat, daring to gently hush Ihuka as he washed him down with his bare hand, trying not to be too rough where the skin was sore and disturbed. “I’m sorry,” Dyan whispered. “You don’t deserve any of this...” Ihuka could barely bring himself to whimper in response.

Ihuka was almost drifting off sitting up until Avizon opened the door and it hit the back wall. Ihuka yelped, tucking his head in. Dyan tried to offer comfort by taking his hand.

“Ihuka, stand.” Ihuka did so, or at least, he tried. He almost slipped over, had Dyan not caught him, straining his muscles to get him up and to help him straighten out. Avizon sighed and used his powers again. Ihuka cried out, begging for mercy in his own language, apologising for failing him. Dyan’s heart twisted in his chest. He hated this. He hated it! It was different when it was him in that position, it was all he’d ever known, but seeing the brother of their ruler, seeing the living definition of wild getting broken down like this in days killed him inside.

“Shhh, I am not mad at you. Ihuka, still. Be still.”

Hearing Avizon offer comfort made Dyan feel sick He had caused this pain! He didn’t deserve to be able to offer comfort. Dyan bit back a growl. He watched and waited as Avizon carried him out and took him to a different room, following close on his heels. Avizon eased him down onto a table, face down so he could see to the injuries he had caused- as if he cared!

“Shhh,” Avizon soothed, yet he took Ihuka by the hand and tied it to the table leg, and then he did the same to the other. Dyan could feel Ihuka’s raw panic but he couldn’t get up. Dyan wanted to run away and not have to see what was going to unfold before him.

“Tell him I am treating his wounds. The bindings are so he stays still and doesn’t move around,” Avizon said, fastening another two ropes over him, one at the small of his back and the other over his legs at the knee. Ihuka cried into his pillow as Avizon set to work cleaning and binding the wounds. Dyan could do nothing but press his head softly against Ihuka’s and whisper soothing things to him, gentle words of encouragement, promises he’d be able to rest soon. Ihuka’s cries of pain and pleading for mercy brought tears to Dyan’s eyes. He desperately wished there was more he could do.

Finally, the ropes came off, and Ihuka was left a shuddering shaking mess. He didn’t dare look Avizon in the face. “Here...” Avizon said, offering him a glass of herb-infused water. Ihuka took one sniff and turned his head away slightly. “Ihuka, drink.” Dyan gently translated it but he had to step back as Avizon eased him into sitting up so he could drink it. Ihuka coughed and scrunched up his face, but he kept drinking. He was just too afraid of what would happen if Avizon was to use his powers again...

Ihuka coughed and shuddered as Avizon let him drop back down onto the table, so weak and tired. “Take him to your room, he can sleep now.” Dyan did his best to help him off the table and down the long hallway to his room. “I’m sorry I c.couldn’t protect you,” Ihuka whispered in his own language. “I tried, I really did...”

Dyan sniffled, but he didn’t have a free hand to wipe away his own tears. He helped him to his room, with Avizon following close behind. Dyan struggled not to glare at his master as he settled Ihuka down on the bed, listening to his groans, his raspy breaths.

“Let’s see if he’s so keen to bite me the next time I train him.”

Dyan turned around to face him. “He only bit you to protect me. Cloudwalkers always protect the youngest or weakest, Master.” “And it’s a habit he will have to unlearn. If he’d obeyed in the first place, this wouldn’t have been a problem.” To the fire with obeying cruel humans who didn’t care about anything but themselves. He couldn’t just stand and listen to this. “He just wanted his brother!” Dyan cried. “He couldn’t give up on him. He hates having his freedom stolen from him, he wants to live with his brother! Please, just let him go, I’ll stay, I’ll do whatever you want me to, master- anything! But please let him go-” Avizon slapped him hard enough to make him stagger to the side and clutch his cheek. “Remember your place,” he glowered. “His brother has been caught and sold no doubt, and so has he. I am all he has and all he will know. They will not see each other again, the sooner he accepts that the better.” Avizon grabbed Dyan by the face, drawing a whimper from him. “You’re a good little bird who knows how you’re meant to behave. Don’t spoil yourself. I don’t take pleasure in hurting you.” Dyan felt the flame inside him diminish while his cheek burned. “I’m... sorry, master.” “You will be if you’re so defiant again.”

Avizon left, slamming the door and locking it which made Ihuka curl up tight. Dyan scrubbed the tears out of his eyes and took off his shirt. He climbed into bed with Ihuka, pulling him close, wrapping his wings around him as well as the blanket to keep him warm. They cried together, holding each other tight, wishing all of this would just go away but it wasn’t possible. All they could do was try and help each other through it.

Slowly, Ihuka calmed, his movements grew still and he began to gently snore in Dyan’s embrace. Dyan smiled gently. At least he was able to help. He could only hope he could be strong enough for both of them.

#cloudwalker series #my writing #whump #whump writing #Ihuka #Dyan #Avizon #my poor babies

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woodstockbtswriter · 4 years

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Voyagers

Genre: Fluff/Headcanon

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Female)

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join BTS on a Bon Voyage adventure leads to once-in-a-lifetime love.

Author’s Note: As penance for the long wait for an update, this part is extra long. Please note that my drabble Warmth fits into this chapter, and I’ve added a link where it should be read. I hope this humble bit of fluff brightens your day!

Part Seven

Grocery Shopping, Take Two

On the way to the grocery store, you asked Yoongi what he planned to make for dinner

He answered kimchi jjigae, and you typed up a shopping list on your phone while he told you the necessary ingredients

At the store, Jin went directly to the candy aisle for more gummies

Taehyung tried to block him, telling him to finish what he already had before buying more

Amused, you snuck behind them as they bantered and grabbed a big bag of Jin’s favorite

“Don’t worry, oppa,” You said to Jin, showing him the candy, “I’ll share mine with you.”

Jin broke out into his signature laugh while Taehyung frowned in mock disapproval and you grinned

Yoongi came around the corner at that moment talking about buying meat, so you followed him to the refrigerated section

Together, you picked out a pile of lamb and pork cuts, asking each other’s opinions

You worked companionably, finding everything on your list together

When you were finished shopping and after you had stuffed the groceries into every little crevice of the SUV, Jin noticed a small zip-line across the lot from the store

You and Taehyung decided to join Jin to check it out while Yoongi returned the cart inside

Jin and Taehyung took turns sliding down the line, shouting in delight

As you stood watching, Yoongi walked up beside you and called to his brothers, saying it was time to go

A little disappointed, you told him you were just about to try the zip-line and asked if there was time

He thought for a moment, then nodded

“For you, we’ll make time,” He said, “Go ahead.”

You smiled brightly at him, thanking him, and the corner of his mouth lifted

You asked him if he wanted to try too, but he declined, so as soon as the line was free, you ran over to take your turn

The ride wasn’t very fast and your feet skimmed the ground, but it was still fun to zip through the air

You waved at the boys, laughing happily as you flew by, and they waved back

Jogging up to them after your ride, you told Yoongi that he should reconsider and assured him that it was fun and not scary at all

He just shook his head, “Watching you have fun is enough fun for me.”

It was exactly the kind of thing you’d expect him to say, but the fact that he actually said it caused you to smile even wider

To the Observatory

As you headed back to the car, Yoongi asked Taehyung if he was driving

Taehyung seemed surprised, so you volunteered instead, insisting you didn’t mind

He thanked you as you got behind the steering wheel and he and Jin squeezed into the back while Yoongi sat up front

After some quick adjustments to the seat, mirrors, and wheel, you turned the engine over and pulled away

A few miles down the highway, Yoongi remarked that you were a good driver

You were pleased that you impressed him, but admitted you were being extra careful because you were hauling some very precious cargo

Yoongi and Taehyung laughed, and Jin agreed that chauffeuring World Wide Handsome was a big responsibility

Not much later, you reached the road up to the observatory that was your next destination and the producers asked you to wait for the camper van team to catch up

So you pulled over to the side of the road and parked

While you waited, Jin opened a bag of mandarin oranges and shared them around

And you ended up peeling them for everyone as you had the longest fingernails

Soon enough, the camper drove up behind you, and you started up toward the observatory

The view along the drive was beautiful, and Yoongi observed that it was so perfect that it looked like computer-generated scenery from a movie

You agreed, and wondered if this was a filming location for The Lord of the Rings, telling the boys how you watched it on your plane ride

As you drove higher and higher, Yoongi asked if anyone else felt a little breathless and like they were getting a headache

Thankfully, you didn’t, but Jin said he did

Not missing an opportunity to tease his hyung, Yoongi called the boys in the camper over the walkie-talkie and told them that Jin had fainted

They laughed appreciatively at Yoongi’s joke and understood his implied warning about altitude sickness

You climbed higher still, curving back and forth, until you finally reached the top, pulling into a gravel parking lot at the peak of the mountain

The sun was just starting to set, and not wanting to miss the sight, you all rushed to exit the vehicles

You hurried across the lot after the boys, pulling out your phone to get some pictures and, in your haste, you didn’t think to grab your coat

Warmth

The shutter click of Hoseok’s phone as he snuck a picture of you and Yoongi woke you from your reverie, and your fingers quickly slipped apart

For a brief moment, you had forgotten about the other boys, about the cameras, and about everything in the world except how it felt to have Yoongi hold your hand

Being abruptly brought back to reality made you a little self-conscious, and your cheeks suddenly felt hot

But before you could notice how Yoongi felt, Jimin called to him, asking him to climb up next to him on one of the boulders lining the bluff

With a subtle glance back at you as he walked away, Yoongi complied, leaving your side

So you let go of a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, and laughed as Jimin wrapped Yoongi’s arms around his waist, recreating the Titanic pose

Waiting for Nightfall

After several minutes of admiring the sunset and taking plenty of pictures, you finally fetched your coat from the SUV and regrettably returned Yoongi’s to him

Then you and the boys decided to head up the path to the observatory

When darkness fell, you would be able to observe the stars, but until then, you had some time to kill

Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook hung out outside, dancing energetically to “Chicken Noodle Soup”

But you, Yoongi, Jin, and Namjoon wanted to wait somewhere warm, so you went inside the lounge, ordered some hot drinks, and settled around a table

As you sipped your cocoa, you expressed your excitement to the boys

You’ve always loved star-gazing, you told them

You had glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of your childhood bedroom and read books about constellations

You even once considered a career in astronomy - until you found out it was more math and science than actually looking at the stars

Yoongi listened attentively while you spoke, seeming interested in everything you had to say

Then Namjoon asked how you made the leap from astronomy to interior design

You shrugged, saying you grew up and your interests changed

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully, then speculated that both professions require an eye for beauty, so maybe it wasn’t such a stretch

You smiled at his logic as he met your gaze, and you wondered if he knew that you thought his face was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen

Eventually, Namjoon wandered outside to herd the other boys into the lounge

They joined you at the table, and all eight of you enjoyed your drinks together as night fell

Starry Night

When it was finally dark enough, you and the boys made your way outside and were immediately amazed by the abundance of stars

The film crew turned off their lights, increasing the darkness to give you a better view, and your stunned faces shone dimly in the starlight

The millions of twinkling stars were so clear and felt so close that you decided the sky must hang lower in this corner of the world

Looking through a telescope brought the radiance of the stars into even sharper relief, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight

Yoongi chuckled at your excited reaction, but when he peered through the viewpiece, his exclamations were even more enthusiastic than yours

After taking your turns with the telescope, you joined Namjoon and Jungkook, sitting on the ground and marveling together at the grandeur of nature

Jungkook was again attempting to take a good picture of the sky, and when he laid back in the grass to get a better angle, you, Yoongi, and Namjoon laid down too

Gazing up at the stars had a way of putting things into perspective, making you feel tiny and insignificant, and special and lucky at the same time

You voiced your thoughts to Yoongi, your voice barely above a whisper, your shoulders pressed together

“I still can’t believe I’m here,” You told him, “I still can’t believe I’m actually here... with you.”

He didn’t say anything in response and you couldn’t make out his expression in the dark, but you heard him shift, then felt his hand find yours

He wove your fingers together, holding your hand between his side and yours, and you felt like you could fly up into the heavens from his touch alone

But before you could soar away, an observatory guide called for your group to gather around

Reluctantly, you sat up, and Yoongi helped pull you to your feet, dropping your hand as soon as you were standing

But he stood close by you, your sides often brushing, as the guide pointed out the Milky Way and various constellations

A Home-Cooked Meal

At the conclusion of your star tour, you all graciously thanked your guide, and you headed for your vehicles

Yoongi volunteered to drive this time, and you happily relaxed in the passenger’s seat as he wound the SUV back down the mountain road

Your accommodation for the night was another cabin, though this one was much smaller

There were two rooms of bunks and one private room with a large bed

It was unanimously decided that the private room was yours, though the boys all seemed envious

They drew ladders on a piece of paper to decide bunks, and Jimin and Jungkook ended up in the smaller of the two rooms, while the rest of the boys shared the other

Once rooms were divided, everyone pitched in to bring in the luggage and groceries, and you helped Yoongi organize the food spread out across the table

You then assumed the role of sous chef, chopping vegetables and handing ingredients and tools to Chef Min as he began cooking dinner

Jungkook lingered in the tiny kitchen too, offering his help to you and Yoongi at every opportunity

The limited space in the kitchen meant the three of you had to work together closely, bumping elbows and reaching around each other often, but no one seemed to mind

There existed between all of the boys a synergy born of comfort and familiarity, and though it was only the second night, in this moment you felt seamlessly included in it

And it was feeling you greatly appreciated

While Yoongi stirred the meat in a pot on the stove, you watched over his shoulder as he explained his recipe, but you were only half listening

The other half of your mind was buzzing, preoccupied with enjoying being close to him - and fantasizing about the two of you cooking together every night

When dinner was ready, everyone sat down at the table and dug in, thanking you, Yoongi, and Jungkook for cooking, and praising the delicious food

As you enjoyed your own bowl of Yoongi’s kimchi jjigae, you took an added measure of secret pleasure in that fact that you were eating his food for the very first time

You’d seen him cook in enough videos to be intensely curious to try something he made, and the experience did not disappoint

The savory taste warmed you from your head to your toes, and you immediately knew that Yoongi’s cooking was definitely something you could get used to

Another Night in NZ

After dinner, Taehyung took charge of doing the dishes, Hoseok started loading things back into the camper, Yoongi and Jungkook wanted to wash up, and you decided to assist Hoseok while you waited for your turn to shower

Hoseok was as animated as usual as you helped him organize supplies in the camper, making his own sound effects while putting everything away

“Hobi?” You asked him, stuffing a stack of paper napkins into one of the numerous cubbies, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he replied automatically, still humming

You hesitated

You wanted to ask him about Yoongi, to confess your feelings for him and ask Hoseok if he thought he liked you too, or if he was just being nice

But you suddenly remembered the cameraman crammed in the camper with you

Were it not for your every word and move being recorded, you would have no reservations sharing your feelings with Hoseok

You needed someone to confide in, and he had already made it clear that he was your unspoken ally

Even your subtlest interactions with his hyung had not escaped his notice, and in your gut you knew you could trust him

But as it was, you couldn’t be completely open with him

At least, not yet

So instead, you asked him to send you the picture he took, the one of the sunset

He paused, finally looking at you, clearly understanding which picture you meant, and gave you a conspiring smile

Both of you then finished your task and reentered the cabin, hopefully leaving the production crew none the wiser

It was late and you were tired and the bathroom was finally free when you returned, so you took a quick shower and prepared for bed

After drying your hair and dressing in your pajamas, you opened your bedroom door to say goodnight to the boys and found Yoongi standing there

He had one hand raised, about to knock, and the other held a steaming mug

“Jimin made tea,” he explained, holding the cup out to you

You accepted it with a grateful smile, taking a small sip, and he nodded, clearing his throat

He then thanked you for your help that day, with shopping, driving, and cooking

You let him know it was your pleasure, and thanked him for another unbelievable day

His eyes met yours, a small smile pulling at his lips

“My pleasure.” He repeated back to you, and your heart did the thing

Hoping you weren’t blushing, you bid him and the others goodnight, then settled into your room for the evening

You drank your tea in bed, snuggled under the covers, and as soon as you finished, you sank deeper into the blankets, attempting to sleep with thoughts of Min Yoongi filling your head

You weren’t sure how he was feeling

Maybe he was just being nice because he knew he was your bias

Maybe he genuinely liked you, but just as a friend

Or maybe - just maybe - he felt the same as you

You hoped so

You really hoped so

Because you…

You were already falling for him

And you were falling fast and hard

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