#obsessed with chalk brushes how come I never thought of trying it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hanji-is-life · 3 years

Text

cw: monster fucking, somnophilia, non/dub con, cervix/womb fucking, breeding kink, choking mention, please tell me if I missed any tags!!

this is available on ao3 and I think I'm gonna add this to my monster fucking collab lmao

word count: 1.9k

Incubus Kirishima who's completely obsessed with you.

There had been a couple of times in your youth that, whenever you would wake up, there would be scratches and bruises on your body. It wouldn’t be too concerning, sometimes a stray tiny little scratch on your calf that you chalked up to being a jagged toenail. But whenever you’d check, none of your nails had been raggedy, especially not after a fresh pedicure.

Weird, but you never thought twice about it.

People would recount their own stories of bruises and cuts that they’d find during the day, that they swore up and down hadn’t been there the night before. Finding it as something you could simply laugh off with your friends, you brushed it off and continued on with your life.

You still get strays every once in a while, but not like this. Not perfectly placed scratches on parts of your body that ragged nails wouldn’t be able to cut. You wake up to fingertip shaped bruises on your hips and around your knees. Wake up with four lined scratches ripping up the insides of your thighs.

Trying your best to not get spooked about the situation, you chalk it up again to maybe—maybe having crumbs in the bed? You did find yourself stress snacking during the day, so maybe a few stray crumbs had gotten caught in the fabric of your sheets and was wreaking havoc on your skin. That had to be it, right?

So you washed your sheets. Every single of one them. Extra blankets and the pillowcases too, just as a safety precaution. But you felt good about going to sleep that night, almost one hundred percent positive that you would wake up without any kind of scratches or weird marks on your body!

…which wasn’t what happened at all. If anything, it felt like the marks on your body had only gotten worse. Looking over your body in the mirror, it almost looked like you had gotten mauled. Scratches lining your thighs, inside and out, bruises forming around your neck, even a slight burning scratch against the swell of your cheek.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have worried you as much as it did, if weird dreams didn’t accompany those marks. It especially wouldn’t have if you didn’t wake up with marks the same place the hunk in the dream had manhandled you in.

When the dreams first started happening, there was never much physical evidence on your body. Just a huge mass of a man, all strong muscles and devilish red eyes to match the equally red spiky mane on top of his head. He would always come to your bed, stand beside you, rumble out in a deep voice how pretty you were, how he couldn’t wait to have you.

They always started out innocent enough, the dreams. The hulk of a man whispering sweet nothings against your lips as he unwrapped you like the grandest present under the Christmas tree. You could never remember the actual timbre of his voice, only how it rumbled through his chest, pressed so tightly against yours that it shook your core, made you feel the words more than hear them. He was always so sweet.

“I can’t wait to have you, pretty baby.”

“You look beautiful under me, every time. You could never grow old to me, love.”

“I wish you could remember this. Remember me.”

But you would only swallow his words in your desperation, in your mewls and your cries. Only wrap your legs around his thick waist, sink your fingers into the spiky hair and pull until he moved his body weightlessly by your command.

He never grew tired of eating you out. Never grew tired of your taste, or how you would clamp your legs around his head and lock him there, ride his tongue like it was his cock, grind your hips down onto his face until he was smothered in you and only you. You never grew tired of having his mouth on you.

But nothing could ever top when he finally got his cock inside—bullied, more than anything. In your hazy remembrance of your dreams, the only thing you could actually recall about his dick was just how huge it was. All length and girth, too thick for you to fully wrap your hands around, his balls hanging low and heavy underneath, a manly tuft of thick black hair framing the sinewy veins at the base of it. Even when you tried to force yourself to remember how he felt inside of you, nothing could bring the memory back.

Everything always went perfectly in your dreams, until it didn’t. How he would ram his cock inside of you, all strength and power, hard and deep, his mouth either pressed against yours or sucking on a tit while he stared up at your fucked out face. How he would wrap his arms around your body, clamp his hands around your wiggling waist to keep your pressed flush against the bed, to keep you from running. How he would confess every time, about how much he loved you and adored you and wanted you to be with him forever.

The moment you would sing your praises back, all hazy and fucked out from the multiple orgasms rattling your body, was when everything would go wrong. He would grumble, his body shaking violently as the pulses in his forehead started visibly throbbing, his cock starting to jerk sporadically inside of you.

Every time wings protruded from his back, horns bursting from his head, claws ripping lines into your skin, a tail whipping and winding around your neck, and sharp, fanged teeth would drool onto the exposed heaving expanse of your chest, you would wake up. Covered in sweat and claw marks, your cunt still throbbing with need, your hole feeling too light and empty without him to fill it.

What was that? What did he turn into? And why did it happen every single time?

Your friends said it might have been an incubus, but that couldn’t have been true. You didn’t—didn’t do anything to summon one? Because you had to summon one, right?

…Right?

…

Kirishima had no problems with correcting your wrong thoughts. You didn’t need to summon him in order for him to get 10 inches deep inside of you. Didn’t need to do anything but sit there and look pretty and fleetingly wink at him while he was out as a construction worker in his human form. That was all it took for him to follow you home, to get you in his claws, devour you from the inside-out.

He finally told you what his name was, after you woke up mid-session. He already had his forked tongue spelling his name inside your velvety walls, glad to pull away with a slick covered smile, ask if you could make out the letters he just spelled. When you stuttered out the cutest,

“K-K-Kirishima…”

He already knew that he had to seal the deal tonight, once and for all. So he did. You didn’t fight as much as he was expecting, but that also might be because of the aphrodisiacs that intertwine within his own saliva. Oops.

No problem or complaints from him, though. But, he did worry about how you would react when he would finally reach his own peak.

But you, on the other hand, were seeing galaxies behind your eyes. Celestial beings and lost deities, from how good he felt. How thick fingers had no problem with flipping you however he wanted, sharp nails digging lines into your skin, even sharper teeth marking up your neck and your nape as if to scruff you.

You weren’t trying to get away because you were scared, no. You just couldn’t handle how deep the angle was, how his sticky tip kissed your cervix with a smacking wet sound, couldn’t handle how much you sobbed for a break because he was just too deep.

All it took was one flick, one hint of claws against your clit, before you were coming around him. Coating his thick cock in your cream, a huge contrast to the black pubes at the base, the sight only made Kirishima go harder, grow closer to his climax.

He held your elbows in two big, strong hands. Pulled you back onto his cock, made you fuck yourself on his twitching length until you went dumb, eyes crossing and rolling as you were only held up to become his own fleshlight until he was done with you. The repeated wet smacking of his heavy balls papping against your clit only became background noise, a dull panting in your ears as you realized that they were the sounds that were spilling from your mouth.

There was a line of drool underneath you, connecting from your bottom lip and onto the covers. You looked below you to a puddle of your cum and his pre pooling between your legs, nothing but a big wet stain that you hoped he wouldn’t make you sleep in. With your head hanging, you noticed something else between Kirishima’s thick thighs that had your mind clearing for only a second.

It was black, thick and snapping with every pump of his hips. It wasn’t until it snaked between your legs to rub messily at your clit, was when you realized that it was a fucking—

“Shit! Gonna pump you so full, get you round with my kits. You like the sound of that, pretty baby?” When you screamed and tried to crawl away, Kirishima thought it was because he was pressing in deeper and deeper now with every thrust. He failed to forget his full transformation whenever he orgasmed.

But this would be the first time he gets to actually cum inside of you. The other times, he had scared you so bad when he Turned, that you woke up. But not this time. You were wide awake and on your hands and knees, so he would be coming inside of you. Nothing was stopping him this time, not even your quiet little chants for him to stop.

“You finally figure out who I am baby?” He growls, sharp teeth snapping and wanting to suck your sweaty skin in between his lips. But all you do is whimper and cry, hands pressing fruitlessly against the hard expanse of his stomach from where he still grips your elbows. You belatedly think, Kirishima, the man who…who…

“The incubus, might I correct, that’s gonna knock you the fuck up with little fledgling incubi and succubi’s.” He grunts, somehow reading your fucking mind in the process. You can only scream out his name when he finally forces the last two inches of his cock that he couldn’t previously fit, bully himself in until his tip bullies its way past your cervix and into your womb.

With one last hoarse cry, you fall onto the sheets, body completely spent and tired. That doesn’t stop Kirishima, no. He’s still pumping a fat load inside of you, doesn’t stop until it starts to distend your tummy, creates an extra little pouch right where you womb is, somewhere to hold his kids nice and warm inside of you.

Even after he comes, he’s still not done with you. Incubi can’t just go for one round and call it quits, pretty girl. No, he needs at least three more to sate his hunger for you, but even still, that might not be enough. He’s been waiting to finally claim you, cum inside you, bite you, and he isn’t going to stop just because you’ve passed out. He’ll just have to wake you up with another few orgasms, is all.

#hil writes!#monster fucking #only monster fans collab #incubus kirishima #tw: somnophilia #somnophilia #somno tw #womb fucking #tw cervix fucking #tw: dubious consent #tw: dubcon

2K notes · View notes

breadqueen95 · 3 years

Text

Dress - Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader

wc: 5k

plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier.

content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt.

a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him

***

Damn. That was a lot of leg.

“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”

“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”

“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.

But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.

“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”

“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.

“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.

“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”

“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”

Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.

“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.

What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.

Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…

At that point you were in love.

But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.

As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.

And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.

“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”

“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.

What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.

***

Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.

You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.

It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?

And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…

Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.

It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.

Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.

So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.

It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.

Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?

Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.

“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?

After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.

“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”

“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”

“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”

“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.

“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”

“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”

“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”

“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”

“Nope, not a chance.”

“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”

His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.

“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”

“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.

His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.

“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?

“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”

“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”

“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”

You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.

“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”

“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.

“Uh…um…get on with what?”

“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”

“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?

“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.

“Well you better kiss me, then.”

As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.

***

That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.

All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.

You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…

Damn, you felt sexy.

And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.

But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.

The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?

The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.

As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.

“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.

“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”

Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.

The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.

Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”

“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.

“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.

“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”

“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.

Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?

Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.

As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.

“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”

“Is that all?”

Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.

“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”

“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”

Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.

“I want you.”

It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.

“Well why don’t you—”

“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”

Was…was he slurring his words?

“Thor…are you drunk right now?”

He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.

“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”

“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?

“Of course, metal appendage.”

“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”

“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.

“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.

“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”

“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”

“Bucky—”

“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”

Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.

And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.

***

As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.

For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.

Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…

But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.

But god damn, that dress.

Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?

She was breathtaking.

“Buck, you breathing?”

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.

“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.

“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”

Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.

“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”

“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”

“…fuck.”

“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.

Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”

“We’re that obvious?”

“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”

“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.

***

“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”

“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”

Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.

“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”

“What do you me—”

Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.

Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.

“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”

“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”

Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”

“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.

The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.

As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.

Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.

“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”

He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.

Oh damn.

Okay.

No complaints here.

“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”

The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.

“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.

“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”

***

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x you #dress #jenna writes #i love lanie #laniestaylorswiftwc

523 notes · View notes

because-of-a-friend · 3 years

Text

Royalty!Hoshi AU

MASTERLIST

Thanks for the request @toffeechuu !!! I really hope you like it, it’s a little outside of my usual writing comfort zone so I hope I pulled through with this one lol

Obviously it was a no

You knew that the answer was an absolute no

You knew you were meant to be the sole ruler of your kingdom

And that if you ever married, it would have to be an arranged one that proposed tactical advantages for your kingdom

There was no way you could be with just anyone

But... Soonyoung...

His parents had worked in your household his entire life so you had known him for almost all of your own

You could distinctly remember meeting him for the first time

You had both been so young

You walked into the stables to greet your favorite of the palace horses

And promptly ran into Soonyoung who was there helping his father

“Hey watch where you’re going!” he exclaimed, worried that you had been hit with the pitchfork he was using to shovel old hay out of the stables

“You can’t talk to me like that!” you scrunched your nose at him, extending your hand expectantly, waiting for him to help you up

“I can talk to anyone any way I want” he grumbled, but did grab your hand to pull you to your feet

“Don’t you know who I am?”

You could easily cringe at how snobby your younger self had been

“Should I?” Soonyoung responded casually

That’s when his father walked in

“Soonyoung, you should treat their majesty with respect!” he pulled Soonyoung into an upright position before having him bow to you

“Your majesty, this is my son, Soonyoung, please forgive his behavior”

You nodded as a sign that it was ok, seeing how red Soonyoung had turned and not wanting to cause anymore trouble

You and Soonyoung interacted often, seeing as you spent plenty of time at the stables

It was nicer out there, away from the hustle and bustle of the palace

And you got to wear play clothes when you went out, which was hardly ever allowed otherwise

And you loved the horses

So you and Soonyoung saw each other often

When you were young children, your time together mostly consisted of running around the palace grounds and playing games you had never really gotten the chance to before

As you got slightly older, Soonyoung taught you how to brush down and take care of the horse that had been dedicated as yours when you were to start riding

And then Soonyoung became an official stable boy at the palace

You tried not to think too often about how he had shot up suddenly one year, his height overtaking your own quickly as the two of you first reached your teen years

But there were times when you’d both be in the stables together, and he’d reach over you to grab reins for a horse, or a brush to groom one

And you couldn’t help but blush every time he leaned over you, towering from above

When you finally started learning to ride, Soonyoung was right next to you the whole time

He’d lead the horse for your first few times riding

And he’s guide you through directing the horse when you started out on your own

Then he’d ride alongside you as you started to get better and riding more independently

Then it became almost a daily tradition for the two of you to go out together

And then spend hours afterwards caring for the horses and walking around the grounds until you were both expected somewhere else

And as you got even older, more adult responsibilities were expected of both of you

And you knew better than to talk about your issues with your subjects

But Soonyoung was your friend

And you really trusted him

So one night you sit together under the moonlight and tell each other everything

This becomes a tradition too

You sneaking out of your window when everyone else in the palace is asleep and running to meet Soonyoung for late night heart to hearts

You both spill your deepest secrets to each other and every thought and complaint and wish and dream

You know Soonyoung better than anyone in the world and he knows you better than anyone else

For the longest time you chalk it up to him being your best friend

But one day you run out to find him in the stables

It’s early so the sun is just rising

Soonyoung is coming to the stables from the outskirts of the palace grounds

The sun is illuminating him from behind with pinks and oranges

He’s wearing a loose, flowy shirt with high-waisted pants

His suspenders have slipped off one of his shoulders

And he just looks so... stoic as he’s making his way through the tall grass towards you

(My obsession with Pride & Prejudice is showing)

There’s a look on him you don’t see often

And you feel this weird feeling in the deepest part of your chest

Like a bubble slowly building inside of it

And it makes you want to burst

If that image of him wasn’t enough

When he approaches you, he greets you with a soft “Hello, your majesty”

And something about the tone of his voice

It feels like the bubble has reached all the way up to your throat

“Hello Soonyoung,” you say gently, “you seem... serious today”

“Just have lots to think about,” he gives you a very small smile

And then suddenly he goes off and you don’t see him for the rest of the day

It’s the first time since you’ve met that you haven’t spent hours of your day with Soonyoung

And you’re just kind of miserable for the whole day

And that night you’re so anxious to sneak out and see Soonyoung

He’s already there at your usual meeting spot

He greets you sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and apologizing quickly for not joining you on your ride that day

“That’s quite alright, Soonyoung, I’m only hoping you’ll tell me why” you say cautiously, hoping you’re not pushing something you shouldn’t

Soonyoung chuckles before extending his arm

You link yours in his, letting him lead you down a path around the palace

At first he skirts around what he’s thinking about, talking about how his day went and then asking you how yours was

“Honestly it was sort of lonely”

He looks guilty for a moment

There’s silence for a bit

“Oh please tell me what you’re thinking of Soonyoung,” you tug on his arm

He clears his throat, looking at you for a moment before avoiding eye contact

“I was offered an apprenticeship in town,�� he finally admits

“Oh Soonyoung that’s wonderful! I mean, that’s a great opportunity!” you exclaim, feeling so proud of him

“It is, isn’t it?” his voice sounds sour

“Do you have doubts about it, Soonyoung?”

“I suppose I do, your majesty...”

“Can’t you just call me by my name, Soonyoung, just once?”

“I would if I wanted to be beheaded,” he laughs lightly

“Oh please, like we’d ever participate in such barbaric practices... and like I’d ever tell on you!”

“I know you wouldn’t” he smiles, tugging you slightly closer

“But really Soonyoung, going to live in town and getting all that experience. It would open up so many more opportunities for you and your life. What’s there to stop you from going?”

He smiles at you again

But this time

His smile breaks your heart

There’s so much sadness behind it

“I’m not sure,” is all he says. “Now besides getting ignored by your best friend, what else did you do today?” he jokes as he continues walking

Soonyoung has awhile to give his answer about accepting the apprenticeship

You can see it in his face the whole time he’s considering it

His brow is always frowning with worry

You wonder what it’s like inside his head, to be that worried

You don’t have to wonder for long

Your parents call you in for a meeting one day

And drop the bomb that you have been betrothed

You try your best to hide your displeasure out of respect and understanding the situation you’re in

“I thought I was to be the sole ruler of this kingdom” you say in a measured tone

“Yes,” your father sighs, “but... times are changing, things are more... complicated”

You practically flee from the meeting once you realize there was no way to argue against it

You shut yourself in your room for the rest of the day

You only come out when it’s time to sneak out and meet Soonyoung

You fly across the grounds to find him

Soonyoung is smiling when he sees you approaching but then his face falls when he notices that you’re crying

“Your majesty? What’s wrong?”

“Soonyoung they- they promised my hand in marriage to a prince, I- I’m to get married,” you panted out before your crying overtook your voice

Soonyoung gladly overstepped his boundaries, pulling you into a hug to comfort you

But over your shoulder, his own face is contorting into pain

He too knows the reality and gravity of the situation

And that there’s not much he can do

“I-” he starts before doubting what to say to you

“What do I do, Soonyoung? I can’t do this” you say when he doesn’t speak up

“You... don’t want to be married?” he pries

“I don’t want to be married to him,” you whisper

Soonyoung stutters for a moment before deciding what he has to do

He can’t let you risk your throne and kingdom for him

“I’m taking the apprenticeship”

You pull away from him immediately

“What?” is all you can say

“I’m- I’m leaving” he tries to say it confidently

“Oh,” you feel pathetic for a moment, “I’m happy for you Soonyoung. I just-”

“Just what?”

“I just thought that maybe you weren’t going because...”

Soonyoung pulls a rather ugly expression onto his face and you immediately wince

“You are royalty. If I refused your friendship, it would have been disrespectful”

“Please don’t do this Soonyoung,” you beg

“That was the only reason I was your friend, because I had to be,” he finishes, stepping away from you fully

But you don’t miss the way his voice cracks or the tears beginning to fill his eyes

“Soonyoung wait, can we just talk-”

“I’m leaving tomorrow. Goodbye, your majesty”

Soonyoung turns and walks into the darkness

Your whole world feels like it’s ending

Every day you spend without Soonyoung and getting closer to your wedding day, is another day you feel your happiness dwindling

You try to spend time in the stables but it doesn’t feel the same

And you constantly run into Soonyoung’s father

Who happily tells you how much Soonyoung enjoys being an apprentice

And you’re getting tired of feigning support and joy for Soonyoung when you miss him as much as you do

So you begin to avoid the stables altogether

Soonyoung is doing well at his internship

But every day feels just as joyless for him as it does for you

He hates having to live without you

One day he’s strolling to the local market

His path is interrupted by a parade of carriages

There he is, Soonyoung thinks, the groom to be

Your wedding is coming and soon you’ll be married

The town is suddenly filled with people from the other kingdom, getting ready for the wedding

Soonyoung runs into two of these people at the market

He finds them odd immediately

They’re dressed in all dark clothing and whispering to each other as they side-eye everyone walking near them

Soonyoung moves closer under the guise of inspecting the fruit on the far left side of the stand he’s at

“Yes but do you have the poison, it must be delivered by tonight” Soonyoung’s ears perk up with the words

“Of course I have it, can’t lose what our prince needs to gain complete control over this kingdom”

Soonyoung’s heart stops

Poison

They’re going to poison you

Soonyoung runs to the palace

The whole way from the town

He reaches the palace by nightfall

And barges straight into your family’s first meeting with the prince and his family

You’re staring at him wide-eyed

He’s dripping with sweat, panting so hard he can barely talk

But he can point out the two men from earlier at the market

“Poison,” he pants, “they have poison. They mean to poison your majesty”

A gasp flows through the room before there’s silence

The palace guards take over the two men before searching them and finding the poison

Needless to say, the wedding does not go on

For days everyone is worried for the state of the kingdom

Apparently the king and queen had no idea their son meant to poison you

So there were days of negotiation of peace for your two kingdoms

It was agreed eventually that if the prince faced consequences dealt by his own kingdom, then your own would not declare war

When announcements of the agreement were made, the whole kingdom sighed in relief

Soonyoung hears the news while still working at his apprenticeship

After he had saved you, the castle kind of went into complete shut down

So he just sort of went back to town to continue his work and wait it out like everyone else

Then he gets an official invite to the palace

It’s a dinner to thank him for saving your life

When he arrives he doesn’t even make it to the front door before you appear, running across the yard to greet him

You take him by surprise when you hug him, in broad daylight, in front of everyone

But he quickly returns it

“You know, my parents are very impressed by the man that saved my life... and took care of me my whole life”

You step back and grab his hands to lead him inside

But he tugs you back and stops you from walking further

“Um, your majesty, I need to tell you something,” he says softly

“Soonyoung, honestly, you saved my life, I think you can use my first name”

“What I need to say, your majesty, is that, I didn’t mean what I said that night. I truly care for you and every day without you was misery”

You grin up at him, “I knew you didn’t mean it, I know you better than that. But that other stuff was a nice new touch”

He smiles down at you and allows you to lead him inside

The dinner is grand and your parents fill the time with praise for Soonyoung

Afterwards, they excuse Soonyoung but ask you to stay behind

He waits outside at your usual hang out spot

You sneak out to see him

You both beat around the bush with small talk for awhile as you start your usual walk around the palace grounds

“My parents have decided that if I get married, it should stay within the kingdom” you finally say

“Well, there are plenty of nobles to chose from,” he hums

“Actually my parents have decided that if we’re keeping it within the kingdom, rank does not matter as much. But that part doesn’t matter anyway, I believe they may have already found me a match”

“Oh... who is this match?”

“Well, he grew up close to the family. He knows the ins and outs of the palace. And he’s currently an apprentice and shows a lot of promise, at least in my parents opinion”

Soonyoung stops walking

You stop a few feet ahead of him, staring up at the moon

“And the best part is... I love him”

Soonyoung doesn’t think he’s ever felt happier

“And I would like to marry him, being that he loves me too”

Soonyoung rushes at you

He kisses you hungrily and practically pulls you up off the ground

“Of course I love you, [Y/N], I’ve loved you forever”

You grin, “I like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth”

“Well, [Y/N], you should know that I’ll happily marry you, and be with you always”

205 notes · View notes

nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

-Embers- (1)

warnings: suggestive, future smut, themes of death

wc: 5.3k

teaser

White specks of paint, scattered across an inky sky - they truly were beautiful. You adjusted yourself on the grassy hill, eyes closing as you tried to calm your nerves. Sighing, you ran your hand over crimson scales, trying to ignore the blinding lights of your village in the distance.

“The stars are beautiful tonight.”

You wished you could stay here forever. Where the only sounds that grace your ears are the deep rumbling snores of the enormous draconian creature you're curled up against. It's a comforting sound, and yet you knew you were going to have to leave soon. Your father would be absolutely enraged if you were late to such an important event- in fact, you were sure he’d have absolutely no qualms killing you in front of the entire village and crowning a broomstick as his heir instead.

Perhaps that's why you delayed the inevitable for a little longer, nuzzling your head against the dragon's hide. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you observed your bustling village from above, frantically getting ready for the festival and the welcoming. People were decorating their houses, painting murals onto their walls and making sure everything was perfect for the guests that would arrive tonight.

The streets were lit up with lanterns, and the people milling about outside their houses were dressed up in their best. The excitement in the atmosphere was palpable, and you could almost feel it from atop the hill.

Sighing, you looked to the side, your eyes meeting enormous yellow ones.

“Aeracus...I know what you’re thinking.” You sighed and curled up your knees to your chest. “And you’re right. I’m nervous, but also excited. I can’t believe we’re going to be seeing him again after all these years. Can you?”

The dragon slowly shook his head from side to side, and you chuckled. “Do you think he’s changed? Or do you think he’s still a feline-obsessed asshole?” You smiled, his laughter ringing in your ears as you reminisced.

Slowly though, the good memories bled into terrible ones. Loss and pain, mingling in your heart and taking over your emotions. The smile disappeared from your face as you remembered what had happened. The reason he left. The reason you weren’t allowed to participate in the championships that were to be a part of the festival’s celebrations...the reason the whole village considered you an outcast, despite being the chief’s daughter.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing your hair back as you slowly stood up, dusting off your tunic. You pressed a kiss to the dragon’s neck, sighing.

“I’m going to go, Aeracus. Honestly, you should be grateful you don’t have to partake in these events.”

The dragon let out a disapproving rumble at that, and your face softened. That was a low blow. After all, it wasn’t his fault that he was forced to to refrain from joining his fellow dragons in the games. No, the blame was to be shared between you and Minho.

The felicity in your heart was intertwined with a faint sense of lingering sorrow. It happened so many years ago, and yet the echoes were still fresh in your mind...

You couldn’t deny that you were desperate to see him again. In fact, saying you were desperate would probably be an understatement. You were thrilled, electrified- and yet, oh so anxious.

You clenched your fists, taking in a deep breath and starting to descend the hill. You’d put it off for long enough.

***

“Children, listen carefully, now.”

The boy next to you didn’t heed the elder’s warning, continuing to draw on the back of his hand.

“Minho! Pay attention, or I will have to call your father.”

Minho looked up, scowling. He placed the chalk down and pursed his lips, directing his attention towards the clay figurines that were laid out in front of the elderly woman. You, as well as the 10 other kids in the cottage, were fascinated by the story being told. The woman was teaching you about your culture, the information you needed to know regarding the upcoming ceremony. It was important, and yet Minho couldn’t bring himself to care. He liked cats more than dragons anyway.

“As I was saying.” She cleared her throat, resuming her lesson.

“Now that you children are 13, you are no longer babies. Certain things are expected of you. You have embarked on your journey to adulthood...and thus, there are certain things you must know. The elements of our village, for one.”

She gestured to the figurines on the dirt floor in front of her. “As you all already know, there are four elements.” She pointed to a spiky pyramid, and then to a smooth sphere. “Ember, Aqua...” Her fingers moved to the next pair- a rough cube and a glassy cone. “...Terra and Aer. These are the symbols of the elements. Of course, you all have already seen the life-sized versions of these in our square.”

Eager nods, making her continue with a pleased smile.

“Every dragon on this planet has a corresponding element that they have control over. They possess immense power, and the ability to command these elements.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Hm, maybe this wasn’t as lame as he’d thought it would be..

“I’m sure you children have seen your parents, older friends and relatives with their dragons.” There was a chorus of agreement, and the woman nodded.

“Well, from next week onwards, you will each have your own dragons. Through the ceremony, you will all be assigned a hatchling, with which you will spend the rest of your life.”

Minho hummed in curiosity as the woman dismissed the class. “Good luck, loves. Remember, there will be a few more classes to brief you further.”

The others started filing out slowly as you turned to Minho. “Isn’t this exciting?” You tilted your head, running your eyes over the figurines. “Since my family are all fire elementals, do you think I’ll get an ember dragon?”

“I don’t think it works that way. My father said it doesn’t matter what family you come from, the dragon you get matched with can be of any element, apparently. Though it hasn’t ever happened yet.” He shrugged.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He yawned. “I already knew everything she said. I could have used this valuable time for something else.” He was lying, to be honest. The only thing he knew about dragons was what he’d just told you.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Do you wanna go to the lake?”

You grinned. “Sure, let’s!” You nodded in agreement as Minho stood up eagerly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the cottage. You giggled as he dragged you. “Hey, slow down! Also, we can’t be there for long. We’ve got to be home for that joint dinner, or our fathers will be very mad.”

“Eh, they’d barely notice if we’re gone. When discussing village matters, they don’t give a fuck about their own children, even.” He muttered bitterly.

“Well...that is true.” You sighed as Minho pulled you all the way to the lake, weaving past the villagers, even bumping into some of them. A few of them frowned and made shouts of displeasure, while others didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe they did, and was just too afraid to voice their anger towards the chiefs’ children.

The cottages start becoming more sparse, the trees more tightly clustered. Minho held your hand tightly as you made your way through the woods. Finally, the two of you reached the clearing.

Letting go of your hand gently, Minho sat at the edge of the lake, beckoning you over to sit next to him.

“I wish this place wasn’t so far away from the village.” You sighed, legs aching as you flopped down onto the grass.

Minho shook his head slowly, his fingers fiddling with a tiny dandelion he’d pulled out. “The further away, the better.” He grumbled, blowing on it and watching as the seeds floated in the breeze.

You sighed. There it was, again. You knew better than to oppose him, so you hummed, scooting a little closer and placing your hand on top of his. “I know you want to leave this place. I know you want to...to explore the world. I just want you to know that whatever you decide to do, I’ll be by your side.” You said honestly.

Minho looked up at you. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

He felt like there was a lump in his throat. Minho knew how much this village and its culture meant to you. You were really willing to do that for him? Leave, and never come back?

“Listen here, Miss L/n.” He turned to you, inhaling as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips soft as they brushed against your skin. You blushed, staring at him with wide eyes as he spoke.

“I’m the one who’s going to be making the sacrifices here, alright? I’m older than you, remember? I call the shots.” He chuckled, booping your nose.

“I love you so much, star.”

You cringed at the nickname, shoving him away. “Stop calling me that, you sound like a character in one of Mr Yang’s cheesy novels.”

He smirked at that. “I’ll never stop calling you that. You’re my star, cause you light up my world and guide me when everything’s dark.” He reasoned, laughing and throwing his head back as he watched you wrinkle your nose in disgust, looking a little like a bunny.

Humming, Minho lay back on the grass, and you followed suit after a minute of hesitation.

“I don’t mind you calling me that. Just don’t do it in front of people.”

“Okay, I won’t. It’s just us all the time, anyway...”

The two of you stared up at the sky, listening to the calm sounds of frogs ribbiting, birds chirping, and the splashing sounds of the fish in the lake. Above it all though, was the sound of your heart, beating persistently as Minho’s fingers creeped closer to yours, intertwining your hands.

“It’s always us...”

***

Your father had explained to you that since your family consisted entirely of ember elementals, your dragon would be of the same kind as well. This went against what Minho had told you before, and your mind was swimming with all the different information you were receiving.

“But...Minho said it doesn’t work that way.”

He sat on his armchair, chewing on a chicken leg as he raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well, he’s wrong.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s never happened in centuries, and it’s not gonna happen now. You’re an Ember, through and through.”

You purse your lips. “Well, you’re always right, Father.”

He nodded, not picking up on the snark your sentence was dripping with. "The bond you share with your dragon is one that can never be replicated. You choose it, and it chooses you. It is truly a beautiful process, a spectacle to behold. Every single villager will be watching, so you better hold your head high. Make me proud."

You were about to reply when you heard a knock on your door. Glancing at your father for permission, you stood up. heading through the long hallway to open the front door.

“Minho?”

You looked at him, tilting your head at his troubled expression. “What’s up?

“I came to give you these.” He said softly, looking around before showing you the fiery petals in his palms. “I borrowed a herbology book from the library a few months ago, and learnt how to grow these. Ignis flowers. They’re symbols of good luck, apparently.”

He took your hand, placing the petals on your palm. “They reminded me of you.”

Your eyes widened slowly. “Wow...Minho, I didn’t get you anything...” You said guiltily, humming when Minho gently pulled you into a hug.

“You don’t have to. I’ve got to go home, now. See you tomorrow!”

You nodded, the petals safe in your hands as he left hurriedly. You watched him head to his house, opposite to yours.

After he left, you were about to head to bed when your father asked you to stay back. Confused, you went over to sit in front of him, tilting your head in confusion.

“Who was at the door?”

“It was just Minho.” You shrugged, eyeing your father as he groaned, massaging his forehead. He looked like he was contemplating something, his wrinkles seeming especially prominent.

"Child, be wary of your...friend."

"Friend...?" You knew he meant Minho. You'd never heard him address him in that manner though - void of affection.

Minho's father and yours were co-chiefs of the village, best friends since birth. He’d always treated Minho like his own son. What had brought on this sudden hostility?

He noticed the expression on your face, sighing and patting your shoulder. "I'm just asking you to be careful, dear. There is talk of the Aer elementals gaining power at an accelerated rate these days. Aer dragons are growing up to be stronger, even more so than our Ember ones. It's truly a strange phenomenon. I do not want to be one of these people who is suspicious of everything and everyone...but both the kid and his father have changed. Even I can't deny that."

You swallowed at his words, watching as his face drifted off, deep in thought. You'd heard of it too- hushed whispers claiming that a single chief would be preferable for the village. And if your father's hunch was right...no, you didn't want to think about it.

Minho wouldn't ever betray you. You'd known him since before you could talk. you’d build up a lot of trust in each other over the years. There was no one else you knew as well. If you couldn’t trust him, who could?

No. He would never hurt you. You were sure of it.

***

The whole village was buzzing for weeks after the ceremony took place. They simply couldn't understand what had happened. It was unprecedented- and the news spread like wildfire.

You were matched with a majestic Aer creature, and Minho a beautiful crimson beast of Ember. Mistakes weren't possible- the process was never questioned- but that didn't mean people weren't bewildered.

For centuries, no one had managed to match with a dragon that controlled an element that differed from theirs.

Neither of you could understand why your fathers and the villagers were so perplexed, though. Was it really as big of a deal as they made it seem?

"I don't get it. Why is it such a humongous problem? They’re just dragons. What’s the need for all this drama?" Minho rolled his eyes as he spoke.

You stroked your dragon's neck slowly as you watched him, huffing and ranting away. ‘Just dragons.’ There was a part of you that understood all the hubbub. The people loved gossip- especially if it involved the chiefs.

"It really isn't. They're both so beautiful, I don't really care what element they control."

You looked at your dragon, curled next to you. You wouldn't admit it, but she looked a little too beautiful- almost to the point where it intimidated you.

Translucent, white scales that reflected rainbows of light...long, beautiful almond shaped eyes that were the color of the ocean. She was larger and brighter than Minho's dragon as well. Your father had been right...the Aer dragons were evolving quicker, somehow.

She was quiet and regal, her sleek body elegant and her demeanor refined. You didn’t really have much in common, to be honest. You’d named her Caeli- a name that wasn’t really all that creative, but it would do. Besides, it seemed to fit.

Minho looked at you, sighing slowly. "Aeracus seems hungry. Father will be expecting me soon anyway, I think I'll go home now, Y/n."

"Bye, Min."

He shot you a dashing grin before standing up, climbing his dragon.

As they left, a great whoosh of wind rustling your hair, you looked up at your dragon. She was staring at the water, her eyes narrowed.

You were starting to feel a little worried. You couldn’t exactly...hear her thoughts. She seemed too closed off, barely even looking at you as she blankly watched the frogs jump from one lilypad to the other. You didn’t feel that special bond everyone had been talking about for years, insisting to you that it would be a connection so profound you wouldn’t be able to live without it.

Did she not like you? You looked so average next to her ethereality, drab and plain as opposed to her stunning beauty.

You couldn’t blame her, really.

***

When Minho stood next to your dragon, the sight somehow made more sense. He was beautiful, and so was the creature next to him. They fit together perfectly.

Aeracus on the other hand, was slightly more average. He was majestic as well, but not on the same level as Caeli. You felt more at home riding him, somehow. Like...he was the one that was meant to be yours.

Of course, you wouldn’t ever tell anyone about this. It could be considered infidelity, even. Your father was disappointed enough in you as it was. Four years of training with Caeli, and you still weren’t able to channel her power into...anything. She just wouldn’t co-operate.

"There you go..." He finished slipping the harness onto Caeli, dusting off his hands as he came back over to you, giggling as Aeracus rubbed his big head against your side.

Minho raised his eyebrows at the display of affection. Aeracus was never that amicable to him. Yes, he listened to him...but that was about it. And yet, to you...he always noticed how the two of you seemed to have some sort of connection. He’d mentioned this to his father once, only to be called ridiculous.

Then again, he couldn’t blame the dragon for having a soft spot for you. Who wouldn’t?

“Hey...” He looked down at you as the dragon pulled away, ambling off to Caeli’s side. You glanced up slowly when Minho cleared his throat, leaning in a little as his fingers ran through your tresses. Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening slightly at his touch.

"A leaf. In your hair." He mumbled, throwing said leaf onto the ground as he stared into your eyes.

Your heart was thudding loudly in your chest as your gaze ran over his features, so close to your face. Fuck, he was so deathly handsome, even more so now that you were both almost adults. Puberty had treated him well.

A little too well.

The girls in the square swooning over Minho became a regular occurrence now. You couldn't even seem to go anywhere with your best friend, without having a mob of fangirls following closely.

When he was this close to you, it became overwhelmingly evident why his fans were so enamored by him. Lee Minho really was beautiful.

"Careful, a fly might make its nest in your mouth." He chuckled. "What's up, kitten? You look on edge."

That was the other thing. His latest habit of calling you pet names- the likes of which included princess and kitten- had come out of nowhere. He really seemed to enjoy making you blush. At times like this, you wished he would have just stuck with ‘star’.

“Nothing.” You stuttered, avoiding his eyes and choosing to focus your stare on the ground. Minho wasn’t in the mood for your shyness, though. He placed his finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

“You sure about that? Is there a reason you look so flustered right now?” He breathed, leaning in closer until your noses were brushing.

Oh, fuck you, Lee.

You'd always thought Minho was attractive. Of course. You'd be blind not to notice. And yet, at this proximity, you felt like you haven’t ever truly appreciated just how fucking hot the man in front of you was.

And so you did something you never thought you’d have the courage to do.

Leaning in, you closed the distance between the two of you, lips crashing against his. To Minho’s credit, he wasn’t all that shocked. Smirking against you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer, gluing your body to his.

Backing you up against a tree, Minho was quick to lift your thigh, slotting your hips together as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip.

A groan left you as he slid his hand under your shirt, pulling away to stare at you, the sight of your swollen lips affecting him in ways he couldn’t quite describe.

“What...what did we just-”

He shut you up with another kiss, rougher than the last one. Breathless pecks, desperately claiming you with his lips as he pressed himself against you.

“Just go with the flow, baby.”

And so you did.

***

As you carefully made your way down, your mind was racing with a million thoughts. The thought of seeing your boyfriend again after so many years scared you as much as it excited you. After all...it wasn’t like you parted on good terms.

You still remembered the heartbroken look on his face, the last time you saw him. You couldn’t tell him that you’d tried everything, tried your best to reason with your father who simply refused to budge. He’d expected you to do something more...but what?

It wasn’t his fault. It was a fucking accident, and yet he’d had to take the blame.

Deep down, though, you knew what your father’s real intentions had been when he banished Minho and his father from the village. Of course, Caeli’s death had shaken him- the entire village had been in a state of shock. The death of a dragon was the most tragic event that could possibly befall a village. And when said dragon happened to belong to the chief’s daughter? Shattering.

At the end of the day though, it was a convenient incident...one that happened to take place just as your father’s status was being questioned. A blessing in disguise, for him.

“It’s okay, my child. Yes, you suffered a great loss, but I know you weren’t that close to it. We must move on. On the bright side, you can focus on your studies now! Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted to do?”

You scoffed, his words repeating themselves in your brain. Bullshit. There was no bright side, nor would there ever be one without Minho in your life.

***

“There you are. Where were you?"

"I...was with Aeracus." You didn't see the point in lying. Your brain was too tired to come up with a believable fabrication anyway.

As expected, his face screwed up in anger as he glared, standing up.

"Why?" He hissed. "Let me remind you he is not your dragon. How many times have I told you not to get too close to it?"

"Aeracus and I have a bond." You mumbled.

"No. You don't. A bond is forged between a dragon and its owner by forces beyond our control. This measly 'friendship', if you can even call it that, is trivial. At the end of the day, it doesn't really belong to you. It belongs to the boy who betrayed you."

You couldn't bring yourself to react any more. Your father was old-fashioned, his opinions set in stone. ‘Betrayed’. You wanted to scoff.

You turned around without a word, heading for your room. There was no energy left in your body, yet the exhaustion was overpowered by your emotions.

"Y/n, wait."

You stopped, turning and looking at him. "What?"

"Your maids are waiting to dress you. Don't argue with them. You are to wear the outfit I picked out for you. Today's dinner is extremely important." He paused. "And...what I said before still stands. The dragon won't hesitate to betray you, especially now that his true owner is coming back. Be...be careful." Your father said quietly, his face softening.

You sighed. "I will be."

"Good."

He dismissed you. You heaved a sigh of relief under your breath and headed out, opening the door to your own room.

You would never admit this to your father, but as nervous as you were, you were secretly looking forward to the dinner. To see him again.

If you closed your eyes and immersed yourself deep enough into your imagination, you could still feel his touch ghosting along your thighs. His soft lips, pressing against yours.

You missed his voice, his tight hugs...you missed everything about him. You'd only ever felt safe in his arms.

The loneliness and pain had consumed you when he left. Maybe that's why you latched on to Aeracus, the last remnant of Minho in this village that seemed so much more dreary without his presence.

"Miss Y/n! We have no time to lose." Your head maid scurried about your room with two others, spreading out your dress on your bed. One of the maids- Sylvia, you think her name was- snuck up behind you and began undressing you. Yes, you were used to this, but the layer of urgency in the atmosphere was a lot more profound tonight.

The entire village was on edge, and you couldn’t really blame them. The first Elemental Championships, and they were being hosted at your village. The exhilaration was understandable...you couldn't bring yourself to feel the same way, though. Maybe if you were actually participating, you’d feel different.

You looked at the dress the maid was holding onto, initially without much interest...but your eyes widened when it came into view.

It was beautiful, yet simple...the color of spun gold, with tiny rubies clustered at the bodice. The sleeves fell of the shoulders delicately, and the material was diaphanous, the texture rich.

“Wow....Sylvia, you made this?”

“I did. It took me a year.” She smiled widely, your grin satisfying her. “Do you really like it, Miss Y/n?” There was a hopeful lilt to her voice, and your grin grew wider as they started helping you into it.

“Like it? I love it! You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

She nodded in content, lacing up the back as the other maids began on your makeup. Usually, you didn’t like being treated as a doll, your servants fussing over you and your appearance. Today, though...

You could barely believe the reflection you were seeing in the mirror belonged to you. You'd never felt so glamorous before.

“You look beautiful, Miss.” Sylvia said softly, adjusting your sleeves.

You couldn’t wait for Minho to see you in this dress.

“Ann?” Another servant’s head appeared around the corner. “It’s time. They will arrive any moment now.”

A flurry of anxious noises and exclamations filled the room as they worked on you faster. You took a deep breath in, your mind blank and full of thoughts at the same time.

***

You stood next to your father, hands clasped in front of you. Surreptitiously, you raised your hand to your forehead, wiping away a few drops of perspiration. It was happening, you were finally going to see Minho again. And if your father successfully manages to make amends with his- fuck, you were grinning just thinking about it.

The villagers standing behind you were all dressed in their best as well, and the lanterns shone brightly, washing over everything. The air was sparkling, the atmosphere charged with electricity. Everyone had their eyes trained on the sky, waiting for Minho’s people. The two other villages were to come tomorrow, according to the letters.

Four villages. All competing in the championship yours was hosting. It was nerve-wracking, the amount of people who would be crammed into your village, which was big enough, really- possibly the largest in the country- it still stressed you out, though. Since there weren’t enough guest houses to fit everyone, a lot of the visitors would be staying with your villagers, the chiefs and their families staying at your house. You were keenly aware of the fact that this meant Minho would be in the same living quarters as you. Your heart pounded at the prospect.

Later in the night, you were planning to sneak into his room, since you obviously wouldn’t be allowed to talk to him during the dinner. At least, you wouldn’t be able to communicate the things you so desperately wanted to say to him. Every part of you tingled as you thought about what you’d say to him.

You felt light as a feather as you stared at the starry sky, eyes widening slightly as you spotted the thousands of dots in the distance, flying closer. Anticipation and exhilaration mingled in you as you waited for them to arrive. Just the thought of feeling Minho pressed up against you again, whispering in your ear how much he loved you...it made you want to cry, almost. You’d waited for this moment for too long.

The conch shell was blown as they reached the edge of the forest. More than a thousand dragons, covered in finery, just like their riders.

Hmm. There were a lot more than you expected. You’d only been anticipating about a hundred, since it was only Minho’s village that was coming tonight. Or so you’d thought...

You turned your head to look at your father, letting the confusion show on your face. Noticing your expression, he shrugged. “It looks like all three decided to come tonight.”

You frowned, looking back at the dragons that were at the border now, preparing for landing. That was weird.

You observed the dragons that had landed, your eyebrows furrowing. Huh.

The three dragons at the front were a lot bulkier than the ones in the back. Darker colors, almost hulking muscles and narrow eyes. They looked like no dragon you’d ever seen before. The sight was almost unsettling. You felt a faint sense of dread spreading over you, a feeling you tried to push away as your eyes searched each dragon’s back for Minho.

You recognized Minho’s father right away. He was at the very front, along with two other old men on a green and blue dragon respectively, that you realized were the chiefs of the other two villages. Surprisingly though, Minho wasn’t sat behind him. You’d assumed it to be that way...after all, Minho’s dragon was still here. So where was he? Your eyebrows furrowed, not wanting to assume the worst right away. You wildly looked over them all, craning your neck slightly. You didn’t want to seem too eager, but it’s not like you could help yourself. Could anyone blame you? Here you were, about to meet the first and only person you’d ever fallen in love with, after years of yearning and loneliness.

As your father stepped forward, a smile on his face to greet the chiefs, you finally saw him.

For a minute, it was like you couldn’t breathe. He looked as beautiful as ever, his feline eyes twinkling, his dark hair exposing part of his smooth forehead. His hands gripped the reins so tightly his knuckles were white, and the way he sat on his dragon was regal, his expression confident and filled with determination. He was older, and somehow even more handsome than the last time you saw him. You didn’t even think that was possible.

You swallowed, your breath catching in your throat as his eyes finally met yours.

It was like time had ceased for a minute. You smiled slowly, happy tears pricking at your eyes as you took in his face.

He didn’t smile back.

And that’s when you noticed the pale arms wrapped around his waist. Confused, you watched as the chiefs dismounted the dragons, along with their heirs. Minho alighted from the dragon, helping down the woman who had been holding onto him. He held her hands gently, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

You felt like your whole world had collapsed, bile rising in your throat as you watched her giggle. You noticed she was dressed in blue, her clothing that of a heiress. As they approached, your eyes fell on the sparkling ring on her finger...one that matched Minho’s.

When his eyes looked into yours again, they were cold, just like your heart.

#minho smut #lee know smut #minho series #minho angst #lee know angst #minho x reader #minho imagines #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee know x reader #kpop smut #kpop angst #kpop imagines #skz series

292 notes · View notes

gypsydanger01 · 4 years

Text

THE STORM - Part two

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x Reader

A/N: This is still part of the build-up, the Reader and Noir won’t meet until the next part in the series!!

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and the au part of this story’s plot line.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

Posting new chapters every Wednesday and Friday!

Secret obsession

A week or so had passed after the gala, and Black Noir could say he knew her. Truthfully, he’d already gathered all her biographical data that same night, but it did take at least a week for him to learn most of her quirks and mannerisms.

In the quiet stillness of the night, he had moved down various hallways, concealed in the long shadows he often called home. He’d caught her name while listening in on her co-worker’s conversation. Vought kept detailed files on the family history, relationships, affiliations and political inclinations of its employees, so it would be possible to discern possible threats to the company. This made it easier for them to catch moles and informants. Now this made his search extremely simple.

Taking her file, he had retired to his living quarters and spread the documents out. What had immediately caught his attention, was how thick her file was, how many subsections it contained. It was at least four times bigger than the surrounding folders. And so, reading through her profile, Black Noir got carried away. She was beyond interesting and he quickly realized Vought hadn’t entirely figured her out. The long dark hours of night rushed by.

...

“Good morning, Sarah,” her good friend and co-worker glanced over, a wide smile stamped on her face.

She smiled, “Hey Martha, how’s it going?”

The young woman sauntered over with Sarah’s usual order of coffee. Leaning on her desk, she watched her remove her coat. “Well, I’m alright. How are you?”

Confused, she sent her a questioning look.

“Let me elaborate,” Martha paused for emphasis, “did you meet someone?”

Sarah stood still for a moment and shook her head. “No.”

Martha stared closely at her, and after detecting no lie, walked back over to her own desk. Braving the chaos of telemarketers and publicists in the office, she called over to her, “Well, Ms. Burns, get ready for quite the surprise.”

Still confused and tired of Martha’s antics, the woman brushed it off and finally sat down. Slipping her glasses on, she powered on her computer. It was time to begin another day on the job.

But not even two minutes later, everyone’s work in the office was interrupted. A team of people walked in carrying a great amount of flowers. The man at the head of the line called out, “Ms. Burns?”

Shocked, the woman in question timidly raised her hand, “Here.”

Once they’d pinpointed her workspace, they walked over. With great order and coordination, they placed the bouquets around her. One bouquet in a beautifully molded vase was delicately placed on her desk.

Once they were satisfied with the way they’d arranged the lot of lilies, the same man who’d called her name wished her a good day. They left as quickly as they’d come. She was still sitting there, looking around at the flowers. Oriental lilies. Her favorites.

Sarah soon realized how quiet the room was, compared to the usual busy and boisterous attitudes of her co-workers. There was whispering, sure, but mostly everyone was trying to gauge her reaction. She reached out to the bouquet on her desk. A white tag was tied to a stem. From B.N.

Martha came back over. “The front desk called up saying there was a flower delivery for you right before you clocked in. Didn’t know they meant the whole flower store.”

She took in her friend’s reaction before proceeding, “So, do you know who they’re from? Because it sure looks like you left a lasting impression.”

Sarah looked up at her bewildered and slipped off her glasses. “I didn’t meet anyone, Martha. I spent the weekend holed up at home studying... you know I have exams coming up.”

“Well, then you’ve got yourself a secret admirer,” she confirmed excitedly. “These are some nice flowers, girl.”

She answered distractedly, “I know.” Her mind was running through possible matches for the mysterious B.N. She came up empty-handed.

Slowly, people went back to the projects they’d been working on. Martha, too, went back to her desk with the promise of eating lunch together.

Only Sarah was too distracted to get any real work done. Try as she might, her eyes kept flitting over to the white tag sitting daintily amid the flowers.

Black Noir watched her every chance he got. He knew it wasn’t right. He knew it could be chalked up as stalking. In fact, it was stalking. But he did it anyway.

Every waking minute, his mind was consumed by thoughts of Sarah Burns.

He took particular care in learning her habits and routine. He made sure she made it to the office every morning and back home safely every night. While she slept, he stayed perched outside in the shadows as a secret guardian. A psychotic, silent and secretly obsessed guardian. He’d never let anything happen to her. In little time, he felt closer to the young woman than to anyone else in his life. He’d never cared like this, and this new feeling utterly consumed him with worry and a need to protect.

He wanted to fulfill her every desire. More than anything, he wanted to simply sit by her and breathe in her presence, once more. Maybe somebody as radiant as her could save a being as dull as him.

One day, he followed her to the lost-and-found board in the right wing of the building. Sarah had gone to report a missing earring, one of the dangling pair she had worn the night of the gala. As she left, she greeted him with a soft smile. He’d tensed and soon relaxed at the sound of her voice. She’d talked to him. He simply nodded, almost imperceptibly, but her smile had widened, nonetheless.

Two days later, he’d leave a small package on her doorstep. He’d stolen it from a prominent jewelry store in the city the night before as a substitute for the ones she had lost. They weren’t the exact same earrings, but they were a close match. When she opened the box, she was speechless... and slightly uneasy. The same two letters were printed on a pristine white tag. B.N.

She spent the evening wondering who this mysterious person could be. He, or she as Martha had pointed out, knew where she worked and lived. She was flattered, really. And yet, she couldn’t help but worry.

That night she checked her locks twice before falling asleep on her couch.

Many other gifts followed those first flowers and earrings. There were two tickets to the first showing of a Broadway musical that Black Noir had bought when he discovered this passion of hers. More flowers were brought up to her work desk as well as her home. Always signed as B.N.

In fact, it was starting to drive her insane. Did she have a stalker? Was it actually just a timid co-worker who didn’t know how to approach you? Little did she know, he was both.

She had her mind set on it being someone who worked at Vought, but still, she couldn’t be sure. Black Noir could read the uncertainty in her stance every time she found a gift; he wondered if this was the wrong way to approach her. Nevertheless, he had no other way of contacting her. This was his indirect way of showing his attachment, this intense sense of belonging he felt towards her. And in turn, he felt that Sarah was his to protect and watch over.

As the days went on, Sarah grew anxious, and fear began to filter into her thoughts. Was this a scare tactic? Shouldn’t they be sending threats instead of gifts? Did Vought know who she really is? Was someone tailing her?

While Black Noir had caught onto the inconsistencies in her file, he had yet to figure out her identity. And he surely hadn’t been appointed by Vought to watch her. No, this was all voluntary. In less than a week, Sarah Burns had become his secret obsession.

PART 3 PART 4 PART 5

Giulia

#the boys #the boys tv #the boys amazon #black noir #fanfiction #requests are open #the boys season #the boys season 2

87 notes · View notes

misswildfire · 4 years

Text

Tail Obsession

Thanks @brightlotusmoon for your support with this.

Reader discovers the boys have tails. Reader also discovers that tails are sensitive.

Sitting in the kitchen, she couldn’t help her eyes wander towards the turtle currently bouncing around, throwing ingredients together for their dinner tonight. She was currently supposed to be keeping Mikey company as he cooked, but she found herself more lost in thought than anything else. She loved spending time with the boys, but it was also an exercise in self-torture. She had a crush, not just on one of them, but on all four of the terrapins. There was one snag however, and it wasn’t that she couldn’t, and didn’t want to chose, but the fact that they were already in a poly relationship with each other. She loved them too much to ever risk messing up their relationship with each other or their friendship with her to do anything about her crush. So she left it, hoping that if she ignored the crush, it would just go away.

To her dismay, it hadn’t worked, her affection for the brothers deepening with time. She was at a standstill. Not wanting to leave or distance herself, but hurting when she was around them, seeing the small touches and glances they shared when they thought she wasn’t looking. Sometimes she had to wonder if she was wrong. She would catch a fleeting glance her way or they’re hands would linger on her too long if they steadied her if she was reading for something high up, or if she tripped, or if they were simply handing her something. Chalking it up to wishful thinking, she kept her cool. Or tried too. Sometimes she couldn’t help the blush that stained her cheeks.

Clearing her thoughts she decided that perhaps a nice cup of tea would be a good idea. Smiling as the youngest turtle bounced around the kitchen as he cooked, she moved around him, reaching into the cabinet for the tea. It had been pushed back a bit, so she had to reach up on her tip toes to try and grab it. Loosing her balance, she stumbled back a bit, accidentally brushing against Mikey, who let out a churr. Regaining her balance, she looked at him quizzically. She had stumbled or lost her balance and had accidentally ran into him before but he had never made that sound. Seeing the blush staining his cheeks made her even more inquisitive as to what was going on. Before she could ask him what was going on, a movement caught his eye.

Was that a tail? She blinked, wondering if she was hallucinating. Nope. Not hallucinating, it was still there. Peaking out from his pants, as a little tail, wagging back and forth as she had often seen dogs tails do. I wonder if he tail reacts like a dogs tail, does it wag when he was happy? She felt her free hand itch to touch it again, wondering what it felt like. Did it feel like the scales covering the rest of his body? And what was that noise he had made? She had so many questions. Had she hurt him accidentally? Was his tail sensitive?

“Mikey...”

“Did you want me to boil some water for your tea?” he asked instead, refusing to look at her. She could still see the blush that was staining his cheeks. Was he embarrassed?

“That would be great,” she said instead, not wanting to cause him any further embarrassment.

“Sure thing Babe, coming right up!” The look her shot her was one part relieve and one part embarrassed. Perhaps it wasn’t that it hurt, but the exact opposite. Could it be that any little touch was arousing? He wasn’t yelling at her or telling her not to touch it. Was it possible he had liked it but was embarrassed about his reaction? Did the other guys have tails too? She had seen them all in various states of undress, Leo and Raph preferring to work out with no pants. The first time she had walked into the lair and found them like that had been very embarrassing. She had covered her eyes and stammered out an apology, trying to walk backwards the way she came only to trip over the table and landed on her ass. Once they had explained to her that it wasn’t an issue for them, as long as it didn’t bother her and the fact that she couldn’t see any visible genitalia (which lead to more questions that she had never vocalized about where it was, there were some questions she figured she shouldn’t ask) she became more comfortable with the idea. Besides, this was their home, if they were comfortable and they didn’t care, why should she? And what good would it do her to impose her morals on them? They already had grown up with such a different life.

The whistle from the kettle brought her out of her current musings. Since her mild flirting with the boys wasn’t working, perhaps this would be a way to see if they did return her affections after all. As long as she kept it discreet, and not overly obvious what she was doing, she could put the idea to rest one way or the other. The first step would to be if the others had tails.

Over the next few days she watched the guys, which was no easy feet. It wasn’t easy to observe a fully trained ninja who was aware of his surroundings without being caught, but had been able to spy a tail from each of the guys. Mikey was the one who seemed to have his tail out the most, but there seem to be certain situations where their tails would come out, if they were happy, or thinking (in Don’s case), or if they were relaxed. She tried to stop her brain from going down other situations in which their tail may be visible. No point in going down that rabbit whole, at least not until she confirmed a few things at any rate.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she was making the right choice. Should she just leave things? But at this point, she had to know if they felt the same way. Flirting with them hadn’t worked in the past, not that she was the greatest flirt ever, which may be contributing to her current situation (they probably didn’t even realize that she had been trying to flirt with them). Wandering into Don’s lab, she paused by the entrance. He was really making it too easy for her, always being in his lab. It made him a sitting duck so to speak.

“Hey, you ready for me?” she asked, waiting for his response. She had found an excuse to help him in his lab, needing to be close for her little experiment to work.

“Yep! Let me just grab some parts and we can get started.” She watched as he walked over to a box on the floor, bending over to rummage through it, looking for the parts he had mentioned, his tail peaking out through his pants. She blinked. Was it really going to be so easy? Not wanting to waste this opportunity, she made as if she was simply trying to get past him in the little space that remained between his body and one of his work tables, making sure that she “accidentally” brushed his tail with her left hand. The deep rumbling sound, which she would later figure out was a churr, and the fact that he froze let her know that she had hit her mark. She watched him carefully, trying to make sure that she hadn’t accidentally hurt him, still unsure of exactly how sensitive the tails are.

“Don, did...did I hurt you?” she asked, suddenly unsure. His reaction was so different to Mikey’s and now thinking about it, had she hurt him? His response hadn’t seemed pained, just embarrassed. “It was an accident, I swear.” She sounded lame to her own ears, praying that Don hadn’t picked up on that fact as well.

“No, no, I’m alright.’ He straightened, blush staining his cheeks. He shot her a shy smile as he moved to put the parts on the lab bench. “Ready to get started?”

She nodded, allowing him to change the subject, not wanting to cause any embarrassment if she hadn’t already. She remained careful for the rest of the evening to avoid any possibilities of touching his tail, despite the aching need to do it again. The blush that had stained his cheeks had been too cute. Once she could play off as an accident, she wasn’t sure if she could pass off another. She was going to hell for this, wasn’t she?

It was a secret thrill of hers to watch Raph work out. She had found just about every excuse in the book every time she had been over and he had been working out, to join him. She loved to watch the way his muscles moved and flexed as he lifted the heavy weights. It never failed to get her going. Today he had asked her to sit on the bench with him as he lifted weights, the only space being at the end, practically between his legs. He had said something about him needing her to spot his form, like she knew anything about that, but hey, she wasn’t going to argue. His preference for not wearing pants when he worked out gave her a great vantage point and her position was conveniently right near her target.

The first time she had come to the lair and had seen one of the boys with no pants on, she had immediately covered her eyes, stammering out apologies while trying to walk backwards the way that she came. Not being able to see and being too embarrassed to pay attention to where she was had caused her to trip over a coffee table in the common area, resulting in her falling to the ground. The resulting conversation afterwards had been a bit mortifying, but she had gotten through it. It turned out that the boys occasionally liked to not wear clothes, and it wasn’t as if you could see any genitalia, which lead to another whole trip down the rabbit whole as to where it was, not that she was going down that hole thank you very much, and they didn’t have the same hang ups about nudity that most humans had. She figured if they were comfortable, and they didn’t care, and it was there home, then why should she care or try and push human values or morals on them? She had rolled with it and now occasionally saw them walking around with no pants. Though, it was mostly Leo and Raph who preferred to wear no clothing when they worked out or spared or did anything ninja related in the dojo (which for Leo was a whole host of activities, most she wouldn’t actually name).

With Raph’s lack of clothing obscuring her view, she was able to spy his tail, tucked against his body. Ah ha, so that’s where it is when they aren’t peaking out of their pants. It made sense that something so sensitive was kept tucked close to the body. His tail did look bigger than Mikey’s or Don’s had and she suspected probably Leo as well. Then again, just about everything on Raph was bigger than his brothers. I wonder if tail size corresponds to the size of their... Nope, nope. Stopping those thoughts right there, she tried to stop the blush she could feel forming. Now as not the time to go down that thought train that would lead her no where good. She had a mission to accomplish and now was not the time to be derailed.

Grabbing her water bottle that was sitting on the floor beside her, a plan quickly formed in her mind. Taking a sip, she deliberately put it in the small space between her and Raph, so when she went to grab it next, she would “accidentally” touch this tail. Not wanting to seem like she was acting deliberately, she forced herself to wait, the anticipation nearly killing her. She just had to know! Deciding to wait until he did a few more reps, she helped him count, giving herself something else to focus on.

Making her move, she made sure to brush against his tail as she lifted the bottle. His response made her so glad she had waited. His churr, so much deeper than either Don’s or Mikey’s seemed to reverberate right through her, making her almost instantly wet. She could almost imagine what it would feel like if she was astri....no, no, she had promised herself she wasn’t going down that mental pathway. Shoving the thoughts away, she tried to keep her expression neutral and innocent looking.

“What are you playin’ at there, girly?” his deep rumbling voice was not helping her not get any wetter.

“Nothing,” she swallowed thickly, part of her wondering if he somehow sensed how aroused she was (and oh, was she in for a surprise much later when she found out exactly how much they could sense). He eyed her for a moment before laying down and picking up his weights, continuing where he had left off. His lack of reaction left her momentarily stunned. Was she wrong in all of this? Were they simply reacting because it was sensitive? Was she misreading the looks she had caught Mikey and Don giving her after she had brushed against their tails? If she didn’t get a reaction out of Leo she would give up and drop the entire issue, resigning herself to being their friend and only their friend.

It had taken her a few days to work up the courage to approach the leader in blue. She had gone back and forth with herself wondering if she was doing the right thing, or if she had everything completely wrong and was doing nothing but embarrassing her friends. Finding him in the dojo, sans clothes as was his preferred state when he did his katas, she entered quietly, keeping herself off to the side and in the shadows a little bit.

Not that she thought she would remain hidden from him, even if she wanted to. While he hadn’t yet acknowledged her presence, his body gracefully flowing from one move to the next, she knew without a doubt he was aware of her being in the dojo. He was always good at knowing what was in his immediate surroundings, but she’d found that he always uncannily knew where she was, his gaze sliding to hers first when he entered a room she was in. It didn’t matter where she was in the room, he always knew where she was. Lost in her thoughts, she missed his tail relaxing from where it was normally tucked against his body.

Any plan she had was suddenly shattered when he suddenly broke his kata mid stride, his movements still graceful as ever, and stalked towards her. Not expecting his sudden movement, she took a step back in surprise only to hit the wall behind her. Her crowded her, forcing her body closer against the wall. He held his body a hairs breath away from hers, silent, watching her.

“Did you know you drive me to distraction?” he leaned down, his breathe tickling the tip of her ear.

“Do I?” She couldn’t stop the breathless hitch to her voice or the blush she could feel staining her cheeks. Wasn’t she the one that was supposed to be in control right now? When had she lost it, or had she ever had any control the moment she stepped into his domain.

“Yes,” he didn’t speak the words so much as growled them, the sound, much like Raph’s churr seemed to reverberate through her, sending her arousal soaring. “You test my control, but it’s not just my control that you’ve been testing, have you? Do you know what you’ve been messing with?” They had known the entire time what she had been doing, well the first time truly having been an accident, but the rest, even her coming here today, had been deliberate. If they had known, why were they still hesitating? Was it not something that they wanted? Did they not want her? Her fear that she had gotten everything so horrible wrong dampening her arousal, cooling her skin which until now had felt like a raging fire. Deciding that she needed to know where things stood for certain, she raised an eyebrow at him in challenge.

“And if I do? It’s not like you guys were responding to anything else. What’s a girl to do?”

“Be very careful of what you say next, we won’t let you go.” She could practically feel his entire body vibrating. It dawned on her that he was holding himself back, not wanting to touch her without a clear invitation. Deciding that actions speak louder than words, she reached around him, and grasped his tail in her hand. She locked her eyes onto his as she gently squeezed, mindful of how sensitive they seemed to be. If this didn’t communicate what she wanted she was completely out of ide...her thoughts came to a crashing halt as his lips claimed hers in a searing kiss that left her breathless. He nipped her bottom lip, his churr an answering call to her moan. His hands found her hips, hiking her up the wall and pining her there with his body.

“Maybe I don’t want to be let go, did you ever think about that?” Growling once more, he carried her out of the dojo to where his brothers were waiting.

#tmnt #tmnt bayverse #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt mikey x reader #tcest #tmnt imagines #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt mikey #tmnt donnie

148 notes · View notes

the-currian · 4 years

Text

A3! Winter Troupe Yandere Headcanons

(No Guy because I’m only playing the English version and don’t have a good grasp of his character yet)

((Written as if they’re dating the reader!!))

Tsumugi Tsukioka

You two are close, and he genuinely wanted to be…closer to you. It was sweet, really.

When you agreed to date him he thought it was too good to be true – most people would prefer his childhood friend Tasuku, wouldn’t they? Or basically anyone else but him. So he just needed to…ensure that your relationship would last.

Like his subtle and delicate acting style, you don’t realize it happening until you’re in too deep.

Looking back, it all started when he would gift you with flowers. It was cute at first… him giving them to you in person, pressed flowers sent to you through the mail, flowers on your doorstep…until they started showing up in various spots in your securely locked bedroom.

You’re confused and terrified, because what happened to the gentle flower boy that you’ve gotten to know?

Sometimes you can’t believe it either and you question yourself if you’re reading him right. ((obviously this boy’s background in psychology has made him a master of mind games))

You try to tell his troupe members but they usually just end up looking at you funny. Their shy and gentle leader? Really?

He hates himself a little more every time he ends up hurting you, apologizing endlessly, trying to explain why he ‘blows up’.

He would never physically hurt you, though. If you’re being particularly resistant, however, he will use his expertise of flora to his advantage ((no one takes particular notice when Tsumugi’s garden suddenly has more hydrangeas*))

He is a romantic at heart, though, so if you let him have his way he will spoil you rotten. *Hydrangeas can cause symptoms like lethargy, coma, etc. if ingested

Tasuku Takato

Despite his past relationships, Tasuku is quite insecure when it comes to dating.

Sure, he may be the definition of “tall, dark, and handsome” with his looks, height, and stature but his stoic demeanor coupled with him being a poor conversationalist and overall socially awkward man made him worried that you would leave him.

Even from the start, your dates were always private, with no one ever around. A romantic dinner at home, a picnic in a secluded place in the park, long walks along the beach with your arm firmly linked with his. You just chalked it up to him not wanting to be showy about your relationship, but you later realized he simply didn’t want to take the chance of you getting away.

His tendencies are rarely ever noticed by others ((probably due to his top-notch acting skills)), but whenever someone calls him out on his behavior, he shrugs them off, claiming he’s just getting too into a role like usual; and that’s what it is to him essentially – he’s playing the role of your boyfriend.

Azuma Yukishiro

Hooooo boy. This boy has abandonment issues that run deep. You bet your ass that it translates to his romantic relationships.

And can you blame him? When he opened up to you about his past, you told him that you would never abandon him. He’s just helping you keep your promise. And when it seems like you’re going to break your promise? He has a lot of baggage that will be placed on you at every available opportunity, whether to guilt you into staying with him or to justify his actions.

He’s fully aware of his behavior and doesn’t care – he hates it when you don’t give him enough attention.

He’s very affectionate, which wouldn’t be out of the norm, given his personality, but he makes it a point to mark you with hickeys for everyone to see. He gets mad when you attempt to cover them up and punishes you with even more aggressive marks.

He loves feeling you in his arms and gets so cuddly that he will outright refuse to let go of you, going to lengths so that you can’t leave the bed. He can and will tie you up if needed.

If he wakes up without you in his arms he has a full-on freakout, not resting until he finds you.

He’s a big tease. He lives to see your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of red! But if someone else would cause that reaction? Oh no, no, no, this won’t do. Due to his unique profession, Azuma has many many contacts for him to use at his disposal. Interpret that as you will.

Same thing goes if you manage to get away. He has contacts all over; finding you again would be a cinch.

It’s because of this that he’s quite lenient with your freedom. He always knows what you’re doing, with who, and where.

Of course, if you go what he deems as too far, you have to face the consequences once you’re back in his arms.

Hisoka Mikage

When you first started your relationships you were pretty lenient with his acts; he’s experiencing memory loss, surely he’s allowed a few quirks?

In the back of his mind he knows his feelings aren’t exactly normal but he’s grown so reliant on you – you’re one of the few people that accept him despite his hazy past.

A very clingy boy. Very touch-starved. Since he’s unfamiliar with his past, he has few other people that he can hang out with freely. When he’s with you, everything just fades away.

Sleeps much better with you despite the fact that he looks tired all the time.

If he wakes up without you anywhere within the vicinity, he is livid, and will absolutely not rest until he finds you. Wrangles the rest of his troupe into helping him find you.

You literally cannot go anywhere without him. Mornings are always spent trying to get the both of you out of bed. Staying up, pulling an all-nighter? He’s snoozing away on your lap. Going to the grocery? He can multitask. Glomps you from behind, walking with you as he rests his head on your shoulder.

Is possessive on a regular basis but if someone dares to sleep on your lap? His exclusive pillow? That just won’t do.

When he sleeps in your lap, you forget the situation momentarily as he murmurs his love for you in his sleep. You can’t help but run your fingers through his hair.

Homare Arisugawa

What makes you so precious to him is that you make him feel less like a cyborg.

He’s not sure about what’s happening at the beginning. He loves spending time with you and is sad when you leave. He’s confused by the intense rage he feels when someone else takes up your time. When he finally starts to get a grasp of the situation, well… this is the first time he’s able to understand his emotions and he’ll be damned if he’ll let anyone take that – you – away from him.

Much like his normal personality, he is definitely the eccentric type.

He is very good at hiding his obsessive and possessive tendencies behind his typical unusual behavior, but if you review things meticulously, it’s obvious that some things just seem too off.

You are his muse. He wants everyone to know it. The guys at the dorm aren’t going to hear the end of it.

He can and most certainly will brag about how he managed to woo you. He wants to show you off but make sure that no one gets too close or gets any ideas about you. You are his perfect muse, after all, so if you did something wrong, it wasn’t your fault – it must have been caused by some outside force that he needs to take care of.

There will be times when he just barges into your room, a new poem at ready. There is no stopping him.

Sanguine euphoria. Swear to love only me. It was only phantasmagoria. That wasn’t really blood that you had seen. Don’t look at anyone else. I will only look at you, So only look at me, okay? Your heart belongs to me, and only me. You’re absolutely mine.

No one believes you about his tendencies. They brush it off as him being his eccentric self, and if it’s so bad, why don’t you just break up with him? No one would blame you – his quirks can be a bit much at times.

If only it were that simple.

#a3!#a3! actor training game #a3! act! addict! actors!#yandere #yandere headcanons #a3! headcanons #a3! winter troupe #a3! tsumugi #a3! tasuku #a3! azuma #a3! hisoka #a3! homare

105 notes · View notes

peepingtoad · 3 years

Text

|| @dokuhebi cont. {x}

The peculiar period of downtime that they’d found themselves enjoying ever since the destruction of the other hideout, short-lived as it would no doubt be, had borne witness to the reveal of some truths that could never have come to light while he was still Orochimaru’s captive. Now they were in another of the many laboratories that could technically be considered ‘part’ of Otogakure, except this one was far, far flung from the sight of prying shinobi—not even Danzō had any hand in the funding or knew the whereabouts of this place—and of course, the timing was such that the expiry date on the sacrificial vessel he and Tsunade had met during the Deadlock was drawing ever nearer.

While this said a lot about exactly how long he’d been cooped up, it had proven more interesting in Jiraiya’s eyes, by this point, to wonder anew how Orochimaru had managed to weasel their way around the permanent obliteration of the chakra network to their arms. Knowing their sensei’s last-ditch jutsu, this was a feat the sage had previously thought impossible until they’d managed to snap him up and seal him in the forest, like a frog tempted closer by the innocent flick of the adder’s tongue… but particularly since their impromptu flight across the land, and especially what with having his own chakra restored, it became ever more apparent that the situation wasn’t quite so clear cut.

Ever one to observe quietly and gather his thoughts (whenever he wasn’t being boisterous and charging thoughtlessly ahead; such is the duality of man, or this man at least), Jiraiya said nothing when he first noticed the increased use of wrappings around their hands, and the certain quiver that was uncharacteristic of the graceful yet confident gestures he knew. Of course, he also noticed how Kabuto seemed to be the only one in and out of labs while Orochimaru spent more time lounging around—and while yes, this was often to spend time with him, Jiraiya couldn’t simply chalk it up to being a wonderful distraction, even if it would tickle his ego. Not when they so often seemed agitated by an itch for activity that they clearly couldn’t scratch, and particularly not when with increasing frequency they avoided laying their hands upon him in that lovely, possessive way he adored.

However, he wouldn’t call them out on their secret-keeping until meditation, and the awakening of a sage’s ability to sense all around him, showed him exactly what was going on—that cells were beginning to die, that chakra capillaries were deteriorating like old and frayed cables unable to communicate signals, and that this process of death, while gradual, was only beginning with this particular point of weakness. It wasn’t just the Reaper Death Seal that was behind their condition; it was all tied in with the Body Possession, too.

By the time they placate him with the barest of explanations, he already knows that they hide the full extent of what’s to come, and the implications of what must happen next (and soon) to remedy that... are grim. It is where their ideals come to a definite nexus, the reason that they've had to consider each other as enemies for so long, until happenstance led to choices that would solder their fates together once more.

Most critically of all though, it presents Jiraiya with a question he’s avoided until now: can I support this?

Amid numerous growing concerns, witnessing their ailing health only becomes more of a struggle to watch. But the final straw comes when they retire to bathe one evening, and yet many minutes pass—five, ten, fifteen—without even a drip of water to be heard, no shower before the bath, nothing to suggest that any other personal grooming is underway.

He finds them perched on the stool used normally for cleansing before entering the bath, having evidently made attempts to turn on the tap, so he quickly completes the task, and within moments steam fogs up the room. It would seem propriety may have to take a back seat for simply getting them in and comfortable, this time—Jiraiya wasn’t fool enough to think they’d allow the indignity of him stripping and washing them beforehand, but he certainly has plans to do so once they’re relaxed.

“Mm,” he replies simply at their assertion, a response he may as well not have given for how focused he is on unravelling the bandages with utmost care. He doesn’t need to see the damage itself to know that Orochimaru justifying themself is the very first sign that they aren’t satisfied in this situation, that they are perhaps embarrassed or even ashamed by the cost of their ability... but revealing the tender skin, mottled slightly mauve with the beginnings of that deterioration he’d sensed on a cellular level, certainly hits differently. Still, he keeps it hidden from his expression (as best as he can, at least), not wishing to rock the boat. Much more set on offering a little pampering care to soften the edge of being in such a state.

With their silken hair all gathered, tied up and away from their skin—albeit it not as elegantly by Jiraiya’s hand than it would have been by their own—he guides them into the deep bath, and spares no time in kneeling on the step that he may begin to gently wash them. It’s easy to lose himself in how stunningly beautiful they are while his hands roam over their body, sometimes with the cloth, and for those extra sensitive spots that require something even less abrasive than that, completely bare with only a film of lightly floral suds to make it glide over flawless skin.

Of course, few situations were quite so grim that the notoriously lusty sage could ignore desire when it was right before him, pliant and lovely in his hands, but reaching Orochimaru’s arms causes quite the abrupt pause in what had been shaping up to be an act both caring and skin-tinglingly sensual. Something that they clearly pick up on. Something that, dare he say it, gives them a reason to think he needs an extra reminder of that desire... or simply a distraction.

And it certainly works.

With his forearm supporting his weight on the curved edge of the ofuro, Jiraiya melts into the kiss, his free hand sliding up their sternum to cradle their neck, curling around its slender shape with only the lightest pressure applied. The steam feels steamier the more he tastes what is undoubtedly his Orochimaru; he knows too well their small breaths and gestures for this to possibly connect, in his mind, with the concept of a mere corpse painted with their likeness. And yet it does niggle. Enough that there’s a slight pinch to his brow as they part—just that subtle little indication that in this moment, despite the agitated, trembling weight of his breaths that would indicate stirred up lust, or the fact he’d topple into the bath with them if he tried to lean much further, his feelings towards them have become just a touch overwhelming.

Love, worry, protectiveness, sadness... it all mingles together in soft, storm-cloud grey, and the very last on the list of reasons for that look is ‘trying to make sense of them’. In fact, it isn’t even on the list at all.

“Mm,” he mumbles again—although this time, at least, he intends to say more. Right after his fingers stop idly fiddling with ink-black forelocks that have fallen from the poorly arranged up-do, settling finally on brushing it gently away from their face, before caressing the elegant line of their jaw. His chin rests atop his forearm, the distance allowing him a better look at them, which in turn prompts a smile that, while gentle, could mean an array of things. Not that he’s going to leave them hanging, as he continues calmly: “Quite the contrary. It makes all too much sense to me.”

Surely he need not say out loud how well he understood their aversion to death, their obsession with sweeping over any tracks by which it could pursue them as it had whilst growing up, nor that he knew the fact that actually possessing the power, wit and audacity to potentially overcome death was what had spurred them to just do it. Surely he need not say out loud that he knew their ambition and independent streak would have seen them leave Konoha’s tenuously safe walls for some other reason, if not this one.

After all, all three of them had left, albeit for different reasons—and Jiraiya’s own reasoning lay in an ambition of his own, or just a burden of destiny, he couldn’t always tell which. It was different to theirs, but he understood the drive to chase it. Admittedly, his is one that he still feels would have them struggling to make sense of him. Maybe, after everything, he was the one still showing a lack of trust in them. In anyone but himself, really.

Sighing, he braces his hand on the side of the tub, then rises to his full height with a few pops and cracks of his knees here and there. He’s only wearing a light yukata now, having showered not long prior, so it takes little for him to shed himself bare before decisively joining them in the tub, where the addition of his significant mass causes the water to swell, brim and spill over the edge. It evens out as he settles himself on the step situated on the side just beside Orochimaru, his arms made weightless by the water immediately curling around them to hold them in a loose embrace.

“I sensed when we fought that day, that something was different about your body, and I won’t pretend it didn’t disturb me.” His head tilts thoughtfully after saying this, clearly searching for the best words to spin substance to his thoughts. “But your essence, your soul, whatever you may think of it… it’s still the same to me. No matter how much I disagree with what you do, or worry that your actions are only gonna create new chains of vengeance and hatred that’ll come back to bite you, or even how much I worry about you, just you in general—your happiness an’ all that… Well, it still is you. It always will be you. And just like agreeing doesn’t necessarily mean understanding, not agreeing doesn’t mean not understanding. I won’t say this doesn’t worry me, of course, but...”

His eyes flick in the direction of their arms when he emphasises the word ‘this’, about the same time as a gentle nudge of the arm that forms a ledge beneath theirs illustrates it, before meeting their golden gaze again. The fact that someone will have to die to sustain their life... it’s rotten to think about it, but the fact of the matter is, Jiraiya would always choose them over someone else. And if that ‘someone else’ is a shinobi, well... there’s not much to vouch for in terms of their ‘innocence’. They were all killers here. That didn’t make killing someone to further a selfish pursuit for immortality okay, but there isn’t much he can do besides accept the fact that loving them, not from afar but being with them, means accepting that he’ll be inhabiting some exceptionally grey territory... or leaving.

Which, clearly, is quite the opposite of what he’s currently doing.

“It’s funny,” he adds with a slightly bolder curl of his lips, his hand returning once again to their face to simply hold their cheek while his thumb gently caresses the high, refined bone that lends well to that sharp glare of theirs, even with such smooth features, “you’ve tried to tell me that the way I see you, what I continue to see in you is wrong... but you’d be sad, wouldn’t you? You’d be sad if the way I looked at you changed and became like everyone else. Otherwise there’d be no need for you to hope it doesn’t. Watch me look at you, and see—”

Oh, and the way he looks at them is indulgent. Traces of concern and sadness still remain, but as always seems to be the case with Jiraiya, such feelings find themselves lost in a bright and lovely nebula of far better things—love, care, warmth... and, as always, little glimmers of teasing and jest..

“It hasn’t changed, has it? Well... except maybe the bedroom eyes. I suspect they weren’t always quite so obvious~”

#dokuhebi #now to get back to the remaining birthday asks dsjfiosjf #you really got me with this one though #so i couldn't resist #{verse:captive | dokuhebi}#{long post}#{thread:nogood}

7 notes · View notes

tropicalfreckles · 4 years

Note

Beej?

Anon you’ve opened the floodgates you absolute fool(i’m kidding) OKAY, let me tell you all about what I like about the smelly trash man cause if it wasn’t obvious before with me not being so subtle I have a big crush and enjoy this stupid demon a lot (crush on musical beej specifically of course LAWL)

Why I Like them: OKAY IN ORDER, first movie Beetlejuice. I enjoy he’s a big sleazy asshole that has funny one-liners every time he actually just show up in the movie. He’s a fast-talking con man that acts like a used car salesman and he has a sleazy charm to him. I also enjoy watching Barbara school his ass every time I rewatch the movie, stan movie Barbara y’all she’s a babe and will take you down. I also like to thank Michael Keaton for his performance it was a great one and we all have movie Beej to thank for the other Beetlejuices we got!

Toon Beej! Adorable, a brat, a jerk, a man that would do anything to make a quick buck and he’s gross and such a petty shithead I love him lmao. He can be pure and adorable and nice when he wants to be even if he doesn’t like to show that he has a soft side. Also holy shit all his puns??? YES?? I LOVE PUNS. His jokes, his powers, everything about this middle aged dead ghoul is A+ and ya know what when karma does slap him that’s good too cause he does deserve to get taken down a peg some times lmao. Toon Beej is someone I’d happily be friends with.

now we get to my big ass crush on a stupid, smelly BASTARD OF A BUGMAN

Musical Juice. What don’t I like about him? Besides his dumb ass plan of a green card marriage lmao (I mean movie beej also sleazy af for doing that too). ANYWAYS. What I like. His stupid smile (both blum and brightman just WHY ARE THEY BOTH SO ATTRACTIVE AHHH), his unhinged pansexual disaster energy, who tf is letting this man do coke that is a terrible idea but it gives such hilarious results, the fact that he uses his humor with his trauma he needs to NOT call me out like that lol. I weirdly relate to Musicaljuice like a lot (as someone who struggles with trying not to be petty or get jealous and stuff like that), plus him feeling invisible and lonely also hit home really hard when people in middle school and high school would randomly just drop/ghost me out of the blue. He’s such a chaotic sleaze and I just enjoy his energy and his jokes so much. His dirty humor? Sign me up I keep it clean here folks cause I got another blog for dirty stuff but I like dirty humor when it’s done right lmao. Also dadbod. Dadbod is CHEF KISS. The little things I also enjoy. How he does have an affectionate side (him being just affection/touch starved also coming for the throat cause me too), the fact that he jumped to protect Lydia after she rightfully killed him and he even gave her his cowboy hat as a goodbye present. I thought it was nice of him to yeet out of there cause he did do a lot of bads lmao. I also love how excited he got and the chaotic sibling energy he had with Lydia when scaring. I just really, really enjoy musical Beetlejuice a lot guys.

Sorry I’m such a simp for him lmao

He is my emotional support bastard

Why I don’t: I honestly do not hate his character at all, but, I can criticize his actions. To a degree. I can’t exactly say (ex. Musicaljuice)“Oh no! a demon trying to kill Lydia’s friends and family?? How unexpected!!” he’s a demon he’s gonna do evil-ish things. Which is why I applaud Lydia taking matters into her own hands good kid 10/10. and like movie Juice is a bastard sleazy man of course he’s gonna have a shitty idea as to marry a teenage girl so he can freely do whatever he wants in the world of the living. He never in the final script showed any creepy shit towards her which god I am grateful for I don’t need someone perving on this teenager that’s already having a wild time in her new house. He’s a conman just trying to have a good time but goes about it by crappy means. The petty/jealousy thing can go too far some times (but I chalk that up to musicaljuice’s sad upringing along with not having an positive relationships that we know of in his life to support him) for musical and toon juice (toon juice once again I don’t think had any friends that really understood him when he was alive and when he died so he just does whatever he wants since people already think so little of him before he meets Lydia), however with the proper talking to I think both could improve from it. Like in an analysis way I know these guys are fictional just like character development thoughts. All three have said and or done some things ranging from like small shitty things to problematic obviously. Beetlejuice is a very complex character as a whole. Movie juice obviously not as developed since he’s barely in the film to kind of shroud him in more mystery but that doesn’t mean his motives aren’t intriguing. I don’t want to make this post longer than it already is so that’s just all of my thoughts summarized.

Favorite Episode (scene if Movie): Fav movie beej scene is hard.

His first time meeting the Maitlands, his charades with Lydia, then the ending scene are all so good.

Toon Beej I’m trying to think. Once again I’ve only rewatched like 20+ episodes for the cartoon so it’s hard to pick with limited options. Uhhhh I like the haunted attraction episode lmao also the creepy tree and how he went out of his way to help Lydia move her favorite tree and in the end tried saying something nice to the tree even though eh was annoyed with it the whole episode.

Musical juice that is HARD, Blum and Brightman just own every scene they’re in shit lawl. I really like the evil plan reveal during the séance. The whole being dead pt 1&2 (the guide reprise), say my name, his scenes with the maitlands.

Favorite season/movie: Skip

Favorite Line: NICE FUCKING MODEL!! *honkhonk* (pfft)

also like... everything beetlejuice says in the musical lmao “new phone who dis”

Favorite Outfit: HONESTLY I love every single outfit all three beetlejuices wear. I want the fucking guide hat so badly!!!

OTP:

hahahaAAAHH ah. Well. Ya see here. Let’s go with the first options. Cause of a number of artists on here I’ve been pretty keen on the BeetlejuicexMiss Argentina ship for moviejuice tbh lmao. I like the idea they had an office fling. Musicaljuice and Miss Argentina sounds cute too.

I don’t actively go into the Beetlands tag but I do think the art and idea for it (after a lot of building up trust/consent/and talking) think it can be a super cute poly ship! I like.

I don’t really ship Toon Beej with anyone tbh.

so now into the self indulgent shit lmaaoo

I love people’s ocs/self inserts with the Bugman a lot and I myself super hardcore ship my oc Leilani and musicaljuice. I... maye have drawn self insert art I have no posted here out of being shy but it’s on another blog that will stay hidden lmao. I don’t normally post self insert stuff of myself cause man I can draw it easily for other people but when it comes to myself I am shy.

I mean I’m writing a fic for beej and lani as we speak and you all know by now if you’ve been following me for the past couple of months I’ve drawn a handful of doodles plus commissioned numbnutspo to draw my self indulgent ship lawl

BROTP: The obvious for toon and musicaljuice is Lydia Deetz of course. Chaos siblings. Also I have a BROTP of my demon oc Antares with musicaljuice too. Dumb demon bros.

Unpopular Opinion: TBH Idk if I have one. I like to think there’s a resounding hiss @ the ship that shall not be named lmao.

A Wish: Same wish I had for Lydia’s ask, I wanna see the musical live REAL BADLY. I also wish I could tell the cast/crew of the musical how much it has helped me get through this shitty year and how it legit just revived my passion for drawing again. I got to meet a lot of people through the musical and made some new friends. Plus I’m actually making money off my art now???

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I wanna forget that clean beetlejuice from that one episode of the cartoon exists lmao it scares me (I mean I wouldn’t object to musical juice to taking a fucking bath or brushing his teeth but let’s be real that ain’t happening)

5 words to best describe them: Bastard, Unhinged, Handsome, 1-Brain Cell, Huggable

My nickname for Them: I mean when I refer to him or write fics it’s always Beej, BJ, Bugman, Bug, Bastard Man, Smelly Trashman, Garbage Man, Lawrence, the list goes on lawl

and now I have aired out more of my stupid obsession with this dumb demon

edit: I FORGOT HEADCANONS

OKAY HEADCANONS. Musical juice is definitely the oldest of the three, (in dead terms too, in alive terms he was ony alive for like less than 3 minutes or something), I love musicaljuice pansexual/genderfluid so much. I have a bunch but my mind is like blank rn for the rest shit sorry but I added those in at least

also I like the funny headcanon toon juice is taller than keatlejuice and musicaljuice

I also like the headcanon for autistic beetlejuice (as someone who is also autistic)

#asks #long post #anon #beetlejuice #musical beetlejuice #asks game #Anonymous

8 notes · View notes

turtle-paced · 5 years

Text

Appreciation Post: Cersei Lannister

So I thought I’d do the Stark girls first, but I was really feeling the Lannister appreciation last week.

Ned knelt in the snow to kiss the queen’s ring, while Robert embraced Catelyn like a long-lost sister…

Cersei is in somewhat of an unusual position when it comes to her PoV. She’s been a major character in the series from the word go. And a piece of work. Then, all of a sudden, she’s arguably the dominant voice of AFFC. She’s still a piece of work, but damn if she’s not a three-dimensional, tragic piece of work.

Cersei’s first real appearance, quoted above, is a beautifully understated character establishment - she’s the queen, and she can set formalities to a certain degree, but instead she chooses to make Ned Stark kneel in the snow to acknowledge her status. Mean becomes alarming as we discover through Bran that she’s having an affair with her twin brother, and then quickly becomes outright villainous given her complicity in the attempted murder of Bran for witnessing said affair.

Her political antagonism to our then-PoV characters is clear, and her viciousness becomes steadily more apparent throughout AGoT, as we see her insist that Mycah and Lady die for Joffrey’s humiliation at Darry (and her inability to recognise that there is something very wrong with Joffrey’s behaviour). She’s a leading suspect in the murder of Jon Arryn. Ned comes to believe, not without reason, that Cersei is trying to kill her husband.

And yet even in AGoT we know that she’s not doing this out of an unadulterated desire for power.

Purple with rage, the king lashed out, a vicious backhand blow to the side of the head. She stumbled against the table and fell hard, yet Cersei Lannister did not cry out. Her slender fingers brushed her cheek, where the pale smooth skin was already reddening. On the morrow the bruise would cover half her face. "I shall wear this as a badge of honor," she announced.

- Eddard X, AGoT

That’s a serious hit, to say the least, and when Ned confronts Cersei about her affair with Jaime, the bruise is still on her face. (We find out in AFFC that Robert raped Cersei as well as hit her.) The domestic violence Cersei’s suffered in her marriage to Robert contextualises that confrontation, so that it’s not quite as simple as “Ned good, Cersei evil.” Ned is sympathetic in his desire to minimise war and to save Cersei’s children - but Ned is also doing his utmost to maintain the reign of a man we know hits his wife. Cersei’s actions with Mycah and Lady, her murder of Robert’s bastard children and mistresses, put her firmly in the villain camp - but at the same time, she is not without her reasons or justification for hating Robert, at least, and the men who support him.

As a character, Cersei becomes more complex once we get more intimate views of her in ACoK and ASoS. One of the most gut-wrenching is her reaction when Tywin informs Cersei that she’s to be married off again.

"So long as you remain unwed, you allow Stannis to spread his disgusting slander," Lord Tywin told his daughter. "You must have a new husband in your bed, to father children on you."

"Three children is quite sufficient. I am Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, not a brood mare! The Queen Regent!"

"You are my daughter, and will do as I command."

- Tyrion III, ASoS

Her title does not protect her against her father’s dictatorial stance towards her sex life. If her father wants to use Cersei as a brood mare for political gain...that’s what’s going to happen to Cersei. Even when she’s past thirty, even when she’s already been through one hellish marriage, even when she’s the queen.

Tyrion, her brother, who knows her well, can see frailties in her that Ned couldn’t.

"I do not require your help. It was our father's presence that I commanded."

"Yes," he said quietly, "but it's Jaime you want."

His sister fancied herself subtle, but he had grown up with her. He could read her face like one of his favorite books, and what he read now was rage, and fear, and despair.

- Tyrion I, ACoK

Moreover, Tyrion’s quality scheming shows up the fact that while Cersei’s great at rewriting history, she’s also something of a blunt political instrument. Her solution to problems are murder, money, and sex, and that’s about it. This impression is heightened through Cersei’s interactions with Sansa. Those interactions in particular, in both ACoK and ASoS, show that Cersei’s response to the abuse she’s suffered is to inflict the same abuse on others.

"Joffrey will show you no such devotion, I fear. You could thank your sister for that, if she weren't dead. He's never been able to forget that day on the Trident when you saw her shame him, so he shames you in turn. You're stronger than you seem, though. I expect you'll survive a bit of humiliation. I did. You may never love the king, but you'll love his children."

- Sansa IV, ACoK

Her son’s abusing his fiancee, similar to how Cersei herself was abused by Robert? Sansa can toughen up. Cersei hacked it, so Sansa should as well.

In general, Cersei’s relationship with Joffrey is a powerful antidote to the idea that a mother’s love for her children is automatically a sympathetic thing. Cersei’s flat refusal to acknowledge that Joffrey’s behaviour is anything but unmitigated cruelty instead highlights Cersei’s own lack of empathy. Cersei’s neglect of Tommen and refusal to educate him highlights how Cersei’s ambition damages others. And yet that love still brings out intensely human moments.

When he heard Cersei's scream, he knew that it was over.

I should leave. Now. Instead he waddled toward her.

His sister sat in a puddle of wine, cradling her son's body. Her gown was torn and stained, her face white as chalk. A thin black dog crept up beside her, sniffing at Joffrey's corpse. "The boy is gone, Cersei," Lord Tywin said. He put his gloved hand on his daughter's shoulder as one of his guardsmen shooed away the dog. "Unhand him now. Let him go." She did not hear. It took two Kingsguard to pry loose her fingers, so the body of King Joffrey Baratheon could slide limp and lifeless to the floor.

- Tyrion VIII, ASoS

It was more than Cersei could stand. I cannot let them see me cry, she thought, when she felt the tears welling in her eyes. She walked past Ser Meryn Trant and out into the back passage. Alone beneath a tallow candle, she allowed herself a shuddering sob, then another. A woman may weep, but not a queen.

- Cersei III, AFFC

In AFFC, Cersei is a standout PoV. She holds down some of the central plot-moving conflicts of the book, as she well and truly shows that she is not fit for governing. The twisted method behind her actions is explained, explored, and revealed to be utterly horrifying.

Cersei has no positive relationships in her entire life. None. Her relationship with Jaime itself is breaking up, and messily, as neither of them particularly like what they’ve learned about the other, and as Cersei is unable to reconcile herself to Jaime’s disability.

Cersei laughed. "The butterfly knight who lost his arm on the Blackwater? What good is half a man?"

- Cersei VI, AFFC

She wants to consume her father’s reputation and take it for her own.

He had been a great man. I shall be greater, though. A thousand years from now, when the maesters write about this time, you shall be remembered only as Queen Cersei's sire.

- Cersei II, AFFC

And she hates all women.

Though Cersei often slept alone, she had never liked it. Her oldest memories were of sharing a bed with Jaime, when they had still been so young that no one could tell the two of them apart. Later, after they were separated, she'd had a string of bedmaids and companions, most of them girls of an age with her, the daughters of her father's household knights and bannermen. None had pleased her, and few lasted very long. Little sneaks, the lot of them. Vapid, weepy creatures, always telling tales and trying to worm their way between me and Jaime.

- Cersei VII, AFFC

Part of this is due to the prophecy she received as a young girl, which warned her of two enemies. A younger and more beautiful queen who will take everything Cersei holds dear, and the valonqar who will kill her. The first line resulted in Cersei’s obsessive hatred of first Sansa and then Margaery; the second assisted in her already ableism-influenced hatred of Tyrion.

Cersei’s hatred of other women manifests itself quite noticeably in her feud with Margaery, something that ends up rebounding on Cersei to her great detriment.

"Aye." The chains rattled softly as Osney twisted in his shackles. "That one there. She's the queen I fucked, the one sent me to kill the old High Septon. He never had no guards. I just come in when he was sleeping and pushed a pillow down across his face."

Cersei whirled, and ran.

- Cersei X, AFFC

Cersei’s arrest itself ends in one of the most memorable scenes in ADWD, when she is stripped naked and forced to march through the city while the people of King’s Landing jeer and throw things at her. It’s punishment, to be sure, but the key aspect of it is that it is not punishment for ordering the murder of a High Septon, or her abuse of her cousin Lancel, or the children she ordered killed, or the singer she had tortured in order to frame Margaery. What Cersei is marched naked through the streets is the simple ‘crime’ of having sex.

Words are wind, she thought, words cannot hurt me. I am beautiful, the most beautiful woman in all Westeros, Jaime says so, Jaime would never lie to me. Even Robert, Robert never loved me, but he saw that I was beautiful, he wanted me.

She did not feel beautiful, though. She felt old, used, filthy, ugly. There were stretch marks on her belly from the children she had borne, and her breasts were not as firm as they had been when she was younger. Without a gown to hold them up, they sagged against her chest. I should not have done this. I was their queen, but now they've seen, they've seen, they've seen. I should never have let them see. Gowned and crowned, she was a queen. Naked, bloody, limping, she was only a woman, not so very different from their wives, more like their mothers than their pretty little maiden daughters. What have I done?

- Cersei II, AFFC

We finish ADWD with Cersei recovering, supervised and in prayer, washing herself as often as she can stand - and ominously quiet. Smart money is on Cersei to do something even bigger and more destructive. Even worse, I strongly suspect that Cersei’s life, so marked by domestic abuse, will end with her murder at the hands of her ex.

Cersei Lannister, as a villain, is in my opinion the most complex and compelling GRRM’s written. Which is not to say I think his handling of her is perfect and unproblematic, or that there was nothing he might have done better. Nevertheless, Cersei represents a possible reaction to the abuses of her society, in contrast with the heroic female PoVs who suffer similar tribulations, and a different level of ability and skill in dealing with other problems. Even when Cersei’s ways of handling problems are decidedly suboptimal, recreating the problems of her society, she’s not necessarily wrong about the actual problems to start with. Every step of Cersei’s story shows the damage patriarchy has wrought on her. She’s a superior character for her hypocritical, contradictory, destructive relationship with her society and the people around her. She is not reduced to “Cersei bad because sex and woman,” but allowed to love her children in destructive ways, hold deeply problematic attitudes, and hurt other people in a misplaced belief that this is an appropriate response to her own suffering.

#ASoIaF #valyrianscrolls #cw: rape #cw: abuse #cersei lannister #a game of thrones #a clash of kings #a storm of swords #a feast for crows #a dance with dragons #this does not do cersei justice #not in the slightest

481 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 4 years

Note

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a TK sick or injured fic with the focus on Owen doing the comfort?? I’m loving your writing.

Hope you’re okay with sick and injured, anon, because that’s what I've written! (ao3)

This pairs as my submission for @911lonestarweek‘s day two prompt - I’ll be by your side.

tw - implied/referenced homophobia, implied/referenced drug abuse and overdose, general injuries

The second Owen lays eyes on his son, he immediately knows he’d do anything to protect him from harm. He doesn’t know yet just how difficult that will be, but he suspects - although even his wildest suspicions don’t even begin to cover it. He still swears it, though, right there in the hospital, while Gwyneth is resting and Tyler is asleep in his arms.

“I promise, Tyler Kennedy Strand,” he whispers, almost so quiet he can’t hear himself, desperate as he is not to wake his son. “I’ll always be here for you. I’ll always protect you.”

When Tyler is four - though they’ve switched to calling him T.K. now, his full name becoming too much of a mouthful, and just generally too much - he falls while playing with some friends in the park.

At first, Owen expects him to get up and walk it off; T.K.’s tough like that. And, at first, it seems like he will. He pushes himself until he’s sitting rather than lying on the ground, but instead of getting to his feet, he just stares at his hands.

Owen’s up and moving before the first tear even begins to fall, kneeling next to his son and putting an arm around him protectively. T.K.’s not too injured, fortunately - he’s skinned both of his knees and there’s a tiny cut on his right palm - but Owen knows that the shock of the fall would have been worse than the actual pain itself.

T.K. sniffles and turns his face into Owen’s shoulder, his head tucked under Owen’s chin.

“You’re okay,” Owen murmurs. He pulls away and tilts T.K.’s face up to look at him. “C’mon, bud. How about we get you cleaned up, then we can get some ice cream?”

T.K.’s face lights up and he bounds to his feet, injury forgotten. Owen is slower to get up, his knees cracking, but he smiles as he watches T.K. race around, grinning at the prospect of ice cream despite his bloody knees.

Owen wishes all of a sudden that skinned knees and playground falls would be the only pain his son would ever have to worry about.

ii.

By the time T.K. is fourteen, it’s abundantly clear to Owen why his friends warned him about the teenage years. He’s angry what seems like all the time, pulling away from Owen and shutting himself in his room, snapping over dinner, and his grades are dropping.

Part of Owen knows this is normal - or, at the very least, something all parents have to go through. The other part of him knows it’s far from normal, even for a teenager; T.K. has had, after all, a far from normal upbringing.

And, yeah, Owen knows pretty much every kid over the age of ten in New York has felt the impact of 9/11. Christ, the entire country - the entire world - felt it, maybe even still feels.

But not every kid’s dad was there. Not every kid had to deal with the fact that their parent might not come back - though their family was one of the luckier ones in that regard. Not every kid went through a divorce on top of everything else.

Point is, T.K.’s always had it harder than most, but Owen knows that still doesn’t fully explain this new behaviour. Particularly not when he gets a call one morning, telling him that T.K.’s been in a fight and could he please come in to collect him?

Except Owen can’t go, the alarm going off in the middle of the call, so the school just sends him home, though the woman on the phone clearly disapproves. Gwyneth normally deals with this kind of thing, but she’s away at a conference out of state, so Owen’s left to pick up the slack.

Fortunately, the shift’s only 12 hours, so he’s back home by seven; still not ideal, but it’s the better circumstance. T.K.’s sat on the couch when he gets in, a bag of frozen peas defrosting on the table next to him.

Owen clears his throat and T.K. whips around, exposing a split lip and a developing black eye.

“You should see the other guy,” he says, but the joke falls flat, and he sighs, turning back around and hanging his head. Owen walks over and sits next to him, wincing at the way T.K. shifts away.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asks, as gently as he can. Anger, he’s decided, will not help here.

T.K. shrugs. “I got in a fight. It’s no big deal.”

“No big -” Owen stops and lets out a breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “Alright, let’s try this again. Why were you fighting?”

“It was nothing.”

“T.K.”

“Nothing, I swear!”

“So you just hit him?” Owen lets a little anger into his voice, and it’s enough to get T.K.’s attention, his gaze sliding over briefly before snapping back to the floor.

“No,” he admits. “It’s just. He said some stuff. Called me a -” He stops abruptly, then shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Owen raises his eyebrows. “So some kid called you a name, does that mean you should hit him?” he asks. “Come on, T.K., you’re fourteen, not four.”

It was the wrong thing to say, and Owen knows it as soon as the words leave his mouth. T.K. rounds on him, fury in his eyes, but it’s the tears that accompany it that surprise Owen.

“You really want to know?” T.K. demands, though he doesn’t give Owen a chance to answer. “He told me it was my fault you and Mom split up. Said that it’s no wonder neither of you are around considering I’m a -” He stops, stricken. “A f - The f-word,” he finishes quietly.

Owen frowns. “Fuck?” he says, though he doesn’t mean to. He winces, but it’s enough to get T.K. to crack a small smile, brief as it is.

“No, Dad,” he says, strangely gentle. “The other one.”

“The other… Oh.”

“Yeah.” T.K. chews on his lip, then turns to Owen, apparently making his mind up about something. “It’s true, Dad. I’m a - I’m gay.”

“Oh.” And Owen knows that’s not the right thing to say, but he can’t find the right words just now. He watches his son, sorrow filling him at the tears in T.K.’s eyes, at the apprehension on his face, the doubt. Owen hates himself for it.

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Owen says eventually. “I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

“Really?”

Owen smiles. “Yeah, really.”

And before he can get another word out, T.K.’s hugging him, so tight that Owen can’t breathe for a second. Once he’s got his breath back, he laughs, and brings his arms around T.K., only just then realising how much he had been missing this.

iii.

The call comes in the middle of the night, just as Owen is finally dozing off after a 24-hour shift. He’s awake and pulling on clothes before he’s even aware he’s moving, calling a cab as soon as the woman puts the phone down. All his instincts are screaming at him to get in the car and drive, but common sense tells him that he’d probably crash it, tired and anxious as he is, and that’s the last thing everyone needs.

The cab doesn’t pick him up for another fifteen minutes, New York traffic playing havoc even at this late hour, and Owen gets more jittery by the second. By the time he’s en route, his mind has gone through every potential scenario, each one worse than the last.

Fuck, how could he have missed this? Sure, he’d noticed that T.K. had become more withdrawn from him recently, and he’s aware that his son likes going out and partying more than is advisable, but he’d just chalked it up to being young.

And yet… The more Owen thinks about it, the more he realises the signs were all there, and he’d missed every single one of them. T.K. had almost died tonight, and it’s all Owen’s fault.

He’s never going to forgive himself for this.

The receptionist at the front desk points him to T.K.’s room, her kind smile doing nothing to calm Owen’s nerves. He races there, earning himself several reproachful looks from staff, but he can’t bring himself to care. He needs to see his son.

T.K.’s room is dark, but through the windows, Owen can make out his prone form in the bed. His heart leaps in fear, but then he sees the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the heart monitor beeping out a steady rhythm.

Owen breathes out shakily, taking a moment to compose himself before heading inside.

T.K.’s awake, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He doesn’t acknowledge Owen’s presence in the room, and Owen feels his heart break a little, noting how thin, how small his son looks in the hospital bed.

God, he’s really failed this time, hasn’t he?

But he drags his thoughts away from his own failures; T.K. is all that matters now. Owen eases himself into the chair next to the bed, debating whether or not to speak.

He decides against it eventually, instead just laying a hand on T.K.’s shoulder. T.K. looks over then, briefly, before returning his gaze to the ceiling. But he doesn’t brush Owen off, which he takes as his first victory.

Small steps, he tells himself. Small steps.

iv.

T.K. rarely gets sick; even as a kid, he’d tended to avoid all the coughs and colds that plagued his school friends. His system had taken a hit after the overdose, but recently he’s seemed to have regained most of his old immunity.

Which is why it’s even more concerning when he calls in sick one morning, sounding even over the phone like death warmed up. Owen has to just take it at the time, no time to check on him before his shift, but he’s over to T.K.’s apartment like a shot as soon as he’s done, the fact that it’s the early hours be damned.

T.K. takes a while to answer his knocks, and Owen’s considering breaking in when the door swings open.

“What the hell, Dad?” T.K. croaks, shuffling to the side to let Owen in. Owen doesn’t bother answering, instead surveying the mess strewn all around the place. T.K. doesn’t obsess over cleaning, but he’s generally fairly tidy, and never this messy; the table is buried in tissues, unwashed plates are stacked in the sink, and the laundry basket is overflowing. It makes Owen wonder how long T.K.’s been ill for without saying anything, but he chooses not to think about that too much.

But one look at his son confirms that he’s been feeling under the weather for a while - a few days, at the very least. He’s got tired bags under his eyes, and his face is pale and drawn. He’s hunched over, blankets wrapped around his thin shoulders, and he looks like he’s about to fall over any second.

It reminds Owen violently of the hell withdrawal had wreaked on T.K., on his body, though he’d been mercifully spared most of the fallout from that. T.K. had lasted it out in rehab and, whilst Owen had visited as much as he’d been able, he’d still had a job to hold down.

He wonders if he should feel guilty about being grateful for that.

He shakes the thought from his head and steers T.K. over to the couch, easing him down into it even as T.K. weakly swats at him. Owen glances around the room again and sighs.

“Okay,” he says, then sets to work, starting off with the rubbish on the coffee table.

“Dad, don’t -” T.K. starts, but Owen sends him a look.

“Shut up, T.K.,” he says, and T.K. does.

Owen cleans the entire apartment, guiding T.K. to bed as soon as he starts dropping off because falling asleep on the sofa is the last thing he needs. It’s late when he’s done; too late, he reasons, to go home now. His uniform’s with him in his bag and, besides, he knows he’ll sleep better here with T.K. in the next room.

Sure, T.K. will probably be pissed when he wakes up and finds him still here, but Owen thinks that that’s a price he’s willing to pay.

T.K.’s silent the entire way back from the hospital. So is Owen. There’s no point trying to force a conversation now; T.K. will talk when he’s ready.

They go back to Owen’s apartment, and T.K. heads straight to the roof. Owen is scared for a brief second, but then T.K. turns to look back at him, letting him know that he wanted Owen to follow.

T.K. barely looks at him as they talk, but it’s impossible to miss the shame and guilt in his expression. Owen tries to comfort his son as best he can, wishes he could tell him that everything’s okay, but he can’t. Nothing about this is okay.

He doesn’t know what to do. It’s all too much - Alex, the fact that Owen’s not sure it was as accidental as T.K. claim, his own cancer diagnosis. Even the New York air is stifling to him now.

Owen has lived in this city for pretty much his entire life. He loves it here. Everything he cares about is here. And yet.

Owen makes a split second decision.

“Pack your stuff,” he says. “We’re getting out of town.”

It’s the sort of thing Owen’s been dreading, ever since T.K. decided to follow him into firefighting. He’s always tried to shove the fear to the back of his mind, because their job is dangerous; getting hurt is an inevitability.

The job has put T.K. in the hospital before, but usually it’s just smoke inhalation, or some other simple, non-threatening injury. Nothing like this.

Owen’s trying to be optimistic; the doctors have told him there’s no reason not to be. T.K.’s young, healthy, and the surgery went as well as it could have done. But he also knows that T.K. almost died in that house, and there’s still a chance that Michelle just delayed it by a day or so.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to clear his mind. He succeeds, for a moment, but all the thoughts are back as soon as he opens them again, the sight of T.K. in that bed bringing too many memories back.

It’s the third time he’s almost lost his son, and the second in six months. He wonders morbidly if they’ve finally run out of chances, but he knows he shouldn’t think like that either.

This is different, though. Before, Owen was able to comfort T.K., to talk to him and hold him through the worst of it. He can’t do anything now except sit, and wait, and pray that T.K. will wake up.

Helpless is not something Owen Strand is accustomed to feeling. And yet, as it settles deep inside his bones, he wonders if it will ever go away again.

35 notes · View notes

my-proof-is-you · 5 years

Text

You Should Just Go

This was a reader request! Thank you, @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad!

Request: Hi! I've been obsessed with your stories lately. I see that your request are open. Could you do one where the reader has depression (sadness and loneliness) but it is denied by the reader? Thank you

Word count: 2187

Warnings: depression, anxiety, loneliness, angst, fluff

You

Your eyelids felt heavy as you forced them open. Everything in you wanted to close them again--to go back to sleep and stay that way for a long time.

You can’t, Y/N.

The little voice in your head pushed you to get up and walk to the bathroom, your extremities feeling like lead. Your feet literally dragged as you walked down the hall, cursing the bunker’s enormous size as you went. The thought of the effort to take a shower was making you mentally exhausted.

Somehow you did it, though.

You had been feeling like this for a while. You weren’t sure why--chalking it up to being overworked or missing your family.

You’ll bounce back, you kept telling yourself.

When you finally finished showering and made it to the kitchen after getting dressed, you felt like you could sleep for a week. You poured yourself a cup of coffee and slumped down in one of the chairs at the table.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sam said cheerily, walking into the room in what looked to be jogging clothes. You forced yourself not to physically wince at his chipper attitude.

“Hey,” you responded, not looking up from your cup of steaming coffee. You thought maybe if you just let the caffeine kick in, you’d feel better.

“You okay?” he asked. You finally looked at him and noticed a small crinkle forming between his brows.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding slightly. “Just didn’t get enough sleep I guess.”

That’s a lie, your inner voice accused. You slept for nearly eleven hours.

You ignored the voice, focusing on Sam as he accepted your answer and set about making his breakfast.

“Hi-ya, Sammy, Y/N,” Dean said, sweeping into the room fully dressed and carrying his own mug of coffee.

“Morning,” you mumbled in response. He paused for a moment to look at you but returned to what he was doing when you gave him a small smile.

That was so fake, Y/N.

As you watched the two men bustling around the kitchen and completing their morning routines, you felt a pit forming in your stomach. You didn’t know why--couldn’t even pinpoint when it began exactly. All you knew was that as you watched the Winchesters going about their lives, you felt like yours was in slow motion. You felt like your feet were stuck in mud and were sinking by the minute. You knew if you told the boys how you felt they would want to help. That was just it, though.

You can’t ask them to help you.

You didn’t want to be a burden to them--after all, they had already taken you in after your parents had died on a hunt. The Winchesters were on the hunt, too, and they saw your three-person-hunting-team dwindle down to just you with the twist of a demon’s wrist. They watched your world crumble, and they were there to pick up the pieces.

They gave you a home, a purpose--they gave you family again. If you told them the truth--that you felt more alone now than you ever had--it would be like a slap in the face.

“Y/N?”

You blinked hard and focused on Dean who had come to stand in front of you.

“Oh, uh, what?” you responded, your cheeks turning pink.

“I asked what you were planning to do today,” he said, a small smirk on his face.

“Oh, I thought I’d just do some more research on that shifter case upstate,” you said, taking a sip of your now-cold coffee.

“Okay. Let me know if you need any help,” he said with a smile before turning on his heel to leave. Sam had apparently left the kitchen while you were zoned out, so you put your mug in the sink and headed for the place that was calling to you: your bed.

Dean

Dean spent the day working in the garage on his Baby. All in all, he had enjoyed a day just doing what he loved. He had only gone inside a few times for bathroom breaks and to grab a quick sandwich for lunch. He hadn’t seen you or Sammy all day, and when it was about time for dinner he figured he should go in and see what everyone was up to.

Sam was in the library, his nose in a lore book. He agreed to go pick up a pizza, and headed out the door to the bunker with the Impala’s keys in his hands.

“Be careful with her, she’s in pristine condition!” Dean yelled after his brother.

“Y/N?” he called out after the door closed and the bunker was quiet. He didn’t get an answer and figured you were in your room doing research, where you sometimes did.

Dean knocked lightly on your door and waited a moment. He didn’t get an answer, but could see the light on under the crack of the door. He opened it slowly, and stood for a moment trying to understand what he was seeing.

Your laptop was open on your bed, but facing away from you, the screen black. You laid in the middle of the bed on your side, curled in a ball and wrapped in a blanket.

The sight wouldn’t have been alarming, would it not have been for your face.

Your eyelids were partly closed, your eyes staring straight ahead. They were slightly glazed, and Dean could tell you weren’t really focused on anything.

Your cheeks were tear-stained and your eyes were rimmed in red. The sight made Dean’s heart squeeze, and he rushed forward, putting your computer on the floor and kneeling on the bed next to you.

“Sweetheart,” he said, brushing your hair back out of your face, “what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” His eyes scanned your body, looking for what could be wrong with you.

You blinked slowly, causing another tear to cascade down your cheek and onto the bed. “I’m fine,” you said quietly.

“Y/N, you’re clearly not fine!” Dean yelled. You flinched a little, and he immediately felt bad for yelling. “Just...just tell me what’s going on,” he said softly, placing a hand lightly on your back.

You sniffled, your eyes finally shifting to his. “I don’t know,” you said, a sob following your words. “You should just go...I’m sorry.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to do. He could tell something was very wrong, and he wanted to fix it. He just didn’t know how.

“Y/N...I’m not going anywhere, okay?” he said, moving his body slowly to lay behind you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head.

“Hey guys, I got the pizz...a.” Sam stopped in the doorway, holding the rectangular box and looking very confused. Dean quickly shook his head and Sam understood, taking the pizza and leaving the room quietly.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” Dean began softly, “have you eaten anything today?”

You shook your head in a small ‘no’ motion. “Not hungry,” you said softly.

Dean tucked another piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, you need to eat something anyway.”

“I don’t think I can,” you said, another tear leaking out of your eye.

“I’ll help you,” Dean said, sitting up. “I’m always here for you, Y/N.” Dean looked into your eyes, trying to make you understand that he would never abandon you, regardless of how you were feeling.

You

You looked at Dean, so thankful for the words he was saying but at the same time so worried that you were going to be too much of a burden.

“I don’t want you guys to hate me,” you said, your voice small. You used what felt like an insane amount of energy and pushed yourself up so you were sitting.

“Sweetheart,” he said, taking your face in his hands, “we could never hate you.” He leaned forward slowly, placing a soft kiss on your lips. It was something he had never done before, and you weren’t entirely sure what it meant. All you knew was that it was one of the only things that had felt right all day.

“C’mon, let’s go eat some pizza,” he said, pulling back and reaching out his hand for you. You took it, and even though you knew fighting through your depression was going to be hard, you also knew that having the boys by your side would make it a little easier.

Six Months Later

Things were rough for a while when you finally came to terms with your depression. Once you admitted it, though, it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. Sam and Dean had been with you every step of the way: supporting you, letting you cry, keeping you company when it was hard to do much of anything, and just generally not expecting you to be happy when they knew what you were going through.

You had gone to see a doctor, who explained to you that depression was an imbalance of chemicals in the brain. The way he explained it made you feel much better as well. Your depression was something physical—something as real as other diseases that people need treatment for—not just you being too weak or overly sensitive. Your doctor put you on an antidepressant. Once that kicked in, things started to get easier little by little.

You had hard days, of course...days when you weren’t sure why you felt so sad, or had trouble getting out of bed. Those were the days you were most thankful for the boys. They would come alongside you, gently urging you to do small tasks like eating breakfast or going for a ride in the Impala. You knew he’d never admit it, but you were pretty sure Dean had done some research on how to help a loved one with depression.

Dean had yet to bring up the kiss he gave you on that first night. You weren’t sure if he was embarrassed that it happened or what, but you knew you needed to know. For a while you weren’t even able to think about a relationship—not with all the stuff going on in your head. But now you were doing so well that you just felt like you needed to know.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” Dean said as you entered the library, laptop in hand.

“Dean-o,” you replied, sitting down next to him at one of the tables. He turned his attention back to his phone, and you took a deep breath.

“Listen, Dean—“

“Y/N, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk about with you—“

You both stopped speaking and stared at each other for a moment.

“You go,” you said, nodding your head at him.

“Okay,” he said, breathing a sigh. “Well, it’s just that you’ve been doing so well, and I really don’t wanna do anything to mess that up,” he said, pausing to look at you.

“You couldn’t,” you replied resolutely. “You and Sam have been such a help these last six months. I would be nowhere without you—maybe literally.”

“And I’m so glad we were able to help you, Y/N. I’m just afraid that if I say what I’m thinking it might freak you out or something. And the last thing I want to do is make you feel worse because you deserve to feel amazing because you’re amazing,” he said, barely stopping to take a breath.

Your eyes widened a bit at his long explanation. “You are too, Dean.” You placed your hand on his, and he immediately turned his to hold yours. He laced his fingers with yours, and you felt your cheeks redden.

Could it be true?

“Y/N...I gotta be honest. I fell for you a long time ago. I—I wanted to say something but it felt like the timing was never right. And that night months ago...I don’t know if you remember, but I kissed you. I didn’t mean to, but you were so sad, and I just wanted you to feel better. I didn’t mean to do it, but I’m glad I did. Because I knew in that moment that I would wait for you. I would wait as long as it took for you to be mine.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had no idea Dean’s feelings for you were so deep. Frankly, you were thrilled. But you couldn’t get a word in because Dean kept speaking.

“If it’s still not the right time, that’s fine. I will wait. But I want you to know that I am here for you, and when you’re ready, I want to make you mine. You are perfect and you deserve—“

You cut him off by closing the distance between you and pressing your lips to his. He returned the kiss in earnest, his hands cupping your face.

You pulled apart after a moment. Dean looked a little dazed, and you smiled at him before finally speaking.

“Things might always be hard. I might always struggle with depression. But if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

@malfoysqueen14

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #SPN #spn fanfic #spnfandom #SPNFamily #spn imagine #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester/reader #Sam Winchester #angst #depression #fluff #loneliness #sadness

138 notes · View notes

mimymomo · 5 years

Text

They May Not Have My Smile, But They Have All My Heart

Okay, I spent so long on this story and it’s finally finished! @hollywoodx4 I hope I did your prompt of Orphydice adopting a kid okay. Thank you flower-anon for beta-reading and helping me edit and for coming up with the title. You are a lifesaver!

Also, the song lyrics are from “I Think of You” by Reeve Carney (I’m obsessed)

“When it's time to say goodbye

And a tear wells in my eye

I can hold my head up high

When I think of You

My flesh is weak, but Your Spirit wills

That my heart and mind ooh, will think of You”

Orpheus trailed off, strumming softly at his guitar that was placed down in his lap. With his eyes shut, he let his thoughts and daydreams drift him away, far away, to the corners of his mind where inspiration would fill his head and soon, the many crumbled pages of his worn notebook.

It was a dreary fall afternoon; the grey sky was beginning to peer out from behind puffy, dirty clouds. The air smelled of freshly poured rain, the browning grass wet from the morning dew. The once colorful leaves that hung bountiful from the trees now littered the muddy ground, stomped and tattered.

Eurydice had left for a midday walk earlier that afternoon. Orpheus could sense something was off with his wife; the poor woman had grown antsier and antsier in the last few weeks. Orpheus had chalked the shifting mood up to the changing weather. The warm and sweet summer had morphed into breezy, frigid fall. And with that change came all the worries and pressures the season provided.

Orpheus had been the one to suggest the walk. It was their first day off in weeks. And due to the weather, the two had been cramped in their tiny cabin. Cabin fever was harshly setting in. Eurydice sat silently perched in their ratty recliner, a near busted thing they found in a junk pile. Bundled under a sheet, she watched the clouds drift away from out the window.

“Love, why don’t you go for a walk?” Orpheus suggested, in a warm, enthused tone.

“Trying to kick me out of the house, Lover?” she shot back with no real bite.

“Oh no, not at all!” Orpheus scrambled, cheeks and ears red and hot like the sun. “I just thought maybe some fresh air would cheer you up a bit and-”

Eurydice let out a single snort and smiled at her stuttering husband- a tiny one where only the corners of her mouth curled the slightest bit up, purely genuine. Orpheus felt the air get caught in his throat. Married for two years and the sight of Eurydice’s smile never failed to send giddy sensations throughout his body, stalling his body into a trance. “Maybe you’re right. A walk could do me some good.”

With a wide toothy grin, Orpheus grabbed her hand. With a slight tug, he pulled his wife from her spot on the chair, the sheet falling slowly to the ground. Eurydice wrapped her arms around Orpheus’ neck, perched herself on the top of her toes, and brought Orpheus down to place a slow, chaste kiss on his lips. It was moments like this that the two loves the most, huddled close together in a warm embrace, completely enamored with one another. They knew each other's strengths and weak spots, and in response, how to soothe and to inspire. Their love knew no bounds, and it showed in times like this.

Eurydice left shortly afterward. In the few hours since Eurydice’s departure, Orpheus spent his free time with not only his lyre but now his guitar he received as a present from the town when he and Eurydice returned. Since coming back from Hadestown, he tried to devote more time to work and Eurydice, never wanting her to feel neglected or lonely again. But in return, it meant fewer hours with his music. Sure, he still performed at Hermes bar quite frequently, but whenever free time was available, he could be found sprawled out on the floor, at the bar counter, music sheets spread to the wind, strumming away.

The sun was beginning to set over the trees; Eurydice would usually be home by now. Just then, Orpheus heard the sound of their creaky door being swung open. A familiar pattern of footsteps: Eurydice’s.

“Oh ‘Rydice, welcome back,” Orpheus called out gleefully, gently placing down his lyre and lifting himself from his spot on the old worn rug. “I think I’ve finally worked out the final verse for that new song and was just about to start dinner. How was your wa-” as Orpheus turned towards the direction of the front door, he couldn’t help but stop mid-sentence. Tucked behind his wife’s small stature was the even smaller frame of a very young boy, no older than six, in a dark, oversized sweatshirt.

The first thing Orpheus noticed was his eyes, a striking teal-ish green that perfectly contrasted with his brown skin. They looked so tired, hard yet sad, hungry; they reminded Orpheus of Eurydice’s when he first met her. Eyes of someone who’s had to deal with more than one person ever should. Leaves and debris protruded from the mop of greasy, ultra-dark hair that curled at the ends to reach the tip of his eyes. The boy’s hoodie was an old thing. Dirt-stained and navy blue. Tattered with rips and holes and the thing completely drowned out his figure. A few cuts and swelling purple-blue bruises covered his arms, cheeks, and neck, instantly making Orpheus’ skin crawl and blood run cold. ‘Did someone hurt this poor boy? He’s so small…’ Orpheus locked eyes with the child who quickly averted his gaze in fear. He violently trembled where he stood, still hiding close behind Eurydice’s legs, little pudgy fingers grasping tight to the woman's ripped black tights. Using all the willpower he could muster, Orpheus held himself back from rushing over and scooping the wee boy up into his arms, wanting nothing more than to sing his pain away. Instead, he chose to address his much calmer wife whose hand was softly brushing through the boy's tangled hair.

“I was just about to start dinner,” Orpheus continued as composed as he could be, not wanting to distress the boy any further. “I was just thinking about making some soup from those beans and other vegetables Lady Persephone gave us.”

Eurydice blew out a relieved sigh, something she nor Orpheus even realized she was holding. The tension in her muscles relaxed, shoulders dropping back down to size, no more bravado needed, “that sounds wonderful, I’m starving. I brought back a few more ingredients from the market that we can use.”

‘That’s not the only thing you brought back…’ Orpheus thought humorously, still stunned by the unknown child in his home.

“Orpheus, hun, would you begin prepping the vegetables? I need to run a quick bath, and then I’ll be out to join you.” Orpheus nodded his head at his wife’s request. Eurydice directed her attention back to the boy, crouching down to his level. She circled her hand back and forth over his head and the side of his face. She looked so...maternal. It was so different from the usually hardened exterior she put on display for others, but not unwelcome. She was quite entrancing when she acted like this.

“Miko, this is my husband Orpheus, remember I told you about him back at the market?”

Miko meekly nodded his head and with a bit more courage, peeked further out from his spot to stare up at Orpheus, hesitance evident. ‘Miko, huh?’ Orpheus took note of the teeny birthmarks near the corners of his eyes. “Hello, Miko. I’m Orpheus,” he smiled, “but I think my wife told you that already.”

The boy didn’t say anything, just continuing to stare. Orpheus frowned, he couldn’t help but wonder if the child didn’t like him. He knew that it was irrational, he just met the child for Gods sake, who was most likely just nervous about being in a new place, but still, Orpheus couldn’t help but be fraught with worry.

“Alright then,” Eurydice chimed in, snapping the two boys out of their reverie, “I’ll go draw a bath for Miko while you, Orpheus, start prepping the vegetables for me. Come, Miko, I’ll get the tub ready for you.” She grabbed the child’s hand and guided him in the direction of the couple's compact bathroom.

Orpheus rushed to the kitchen to start with dinner. He chopped, peeled, and quartered various ingredients- peppers, potatoes, carrots, squash, an onion, some fresh herbs. Most had been a gift from Persephone. He tried to ignore out the sounds of running water and faint chatter of Eurydice. He hoped that by busying himself with his assigned tasks, he could keep his mind from wandering to who and what was happening in his washroom. Soon minutes passed, and Orpheus was so engrossed in his actions, he failed to notice his wife walk out of the bathroom, holding a filthy sweatshirt and pants. She dropped them to the floor and stepped into their kitchen, right next to her husband, who was humming a song she didn’t recognize.

“Looks yummy,” she whispered as she placed her hand on his forearm, causing Orpheus to jump.

“You scared me,” he breathed, turning away from the counter and pulling Eurydice in close.

“‘Rydice-” Orpheus started but was quickly cut off by his wife.

“Oh, before you get too far with cooking, I bought some special ingredients for tonight.” She pulled away from Orpheus and quickly marched back towards the front door to retrieve her satchel. She yanked out a small parcel wrapped in thin, brown paper and tied tightly with white string. She pushed it into Orpheus’ hands. “Open it,” she lightly commanded.

Orpheus undid the string and pulled back the layers of paper: a chain of sausages. Orpheus felt his eyes go wide; actual ground sausages, six of them to be exact. Eurydice smiled, “I also went ahead and bought a loaf of bread. Nothing big or fancy, but it’s freshly baked from this morning instead of days old.” Orpheus was stunned, the two rarely ever purchased meat or fancy bread during their routine trips to the market in the center of town. It was much cheaper to buy freshly grown produce and canned goods or bargain for near stale bread than to buy things like meat and baked goods. And with Eurydice’s anxieties over their expenses, the two figured they would be okay without. They only splurged on such delicacies on the most special of occasions. Tonight must have been bigger than he thought.

“‘Rydice, I’m...what-”

“Do you think you can handle cooking the rest of dinner? I need to get washing Miko’s clothes.” She picked up the pile of laundry from off of the floor, “they’re absolutely disgusting. They probably need to be resown as well…”

“Eurydice.”

Eurydice stopped her rambling and faced her husband. She sees the look in Orpheus’ eyes, he was confused and concerned, and that it was driving him mad. But absent was any sign of resentment or anger. “Eurydice, please, what’s going on with Miko? Who exactly is he?”

Eurydice was silent for a few moments, peering down at the clothes in her hands. “I was finishing up my trip to the market, and on my way back I heard screaming. I ran over to an alleyway, and I saw this older man beating on this little boy. According to the man, the boy stole some food from his stall and started to run away. Which meant, in the man’s words, that he was in the right to beat and berate this poor small child,” Eurydice huffed, her eyes hard and glassy. “I paid for the food he stole, and I asked him where his family was...he said, he said…” Hot, angry tears started to fall from her eyes as she gripped the crumpled clothes still in her hands. “He had no one. Nowhere else to go and he, he reminded me of myself...I just couldn’t-”

Orpheus didn’t need to hear anymore. He pulled Eurydice in his arms as she softly sobbed, memories of her past flooded her mind. “Shh, shh, it’s alright, Eurydice, my love. You’re home. Everything is gonna be okay.” He copied what she did with Miko, running his fingers through her hair as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear, kissing along her forehead and temples.

After a few minutes, Eurydice’s sobs subsided. She roughly wiped at her eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“Never apologize for crying ‘Rydice,” Orpheus cooed, using the pad of his thumb to brush away a stray tear. “We all have to sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less strong.”

She sniffed, giving a quick rub at her nose, “please don’t be mad. I know money and food are tight sometimes, but I couldn’t leave him there! I just couldn’t.” She sounded so desperate.

“Hey, why would I ever be mad?” Orpheus asked. Sure he was beyond surprised when his wife, miss lone survivor, brought back a young child home with her from her walk, but he could never be mad at her.

Eurydice gazed at Orpheus, hesitance wavering in her voice, “so Miko, can stay…?”

“Of course, he can!”

A wide grin broke out over Eurydice’s face as she laughed in Orpheus’ neck. Orpheus smiled again at Eurydice’s excitement; he never thought she was the type who wanted to be a mother. He had always wanted to be a dad. To raise a child and teach them many things like how to play the lyre, to sing them lullabies to sleep, watch them grow, be a better father than his own. The happiness in the air turned sour. What if he was a worse parent than his own? Orpheus’ concerns began to manifest on his face, his soft and almost boyish features furrowing at the thought.

“Orpheus? What’s wrong?”

“What if I’m a terrible father? Miko didn’t exactly enjoy my presence earlier when we met.”

Eurydice chuckled, “oh poor, great Orpheus, fretting over how a child sees him.”

“I’m being serious Eurydice,” Orpheus replied somberly.

“And I am too,” she said, bringing her hands up to cup his face. “Orpheus, I need you to listen to me: you are the kindest, sweetest soul I’ve ever had the chance to meet. Your heart is so full of love, and I know you will be a great dad. You’re nothing like your parents; you’re loyal and brave and so, so caring. And yes, you’re not perfect, but no one is, and I wouldn’t want you any other way. I love you, and I’m sure Miko will learn to love you too.”

Orpheus pressed a passionate kiss to her lips, and Eurydice quickly reciprocated it. “I love you,” he said once he pulled back.

“I love you too. Now, let’s make dinner. I wasn’t joking when I said I was starving.”

The two got to work: Orpheus cooking, Eurydice washing, and hanging Miko’s clothes. Just as they were wrapping up, they heard the bathroom door quietly open.

“Euri?” a quiet voice called out. The two turn around and see Miko all clean and wearing an old white button-up of Eurydice’s. It was too big for him, the fabric reaching past his knees, but it would work for the night.

“Euri?” Orpheus asked with a raised eyebrow.

Eurydice rolled her eyes, “oh, Miko! You’re just in time,” she smiled, pouring hot broth into three different bowls. “Dinner’s just about ready.” Miko gingerly padded over to the kitchen. He stands close Eurydice, rising on his toes, poking his head up to look over the counter. “You wanna hold your bowl, or do you want me to carry it?”

“I can do it, Euri,” Miko said, his demure voice now a bit more determined.

Eurydice handed him the smallest bowl they had, “careful, the bowl’s very hot.”

Miko nodded once more before taking the bowl. With small, cautious steps and a stern face, Miko made his way out the kitchen, past the couples measly make-shift dinner table, then abruptly stopped and sat on an empty spot on the floor.

“Uh, um Miko?” Orpheus said puzzled, “why are you sitting on the floor?”

“I ‘posed to sit here,” he said as if by muscle memory.

“Who said that?” Eurydice pressed.

Miko didn’t speak at first, stirring his spoon in his bowl. The couples waited with bated breath, not wanting the boy to continue if he was uncomfortable. “...the mean man and his wife.”

“Mean man and his wife?” Eurydice repeated.

Miko lowered his head. “Dirty boys don’t get to eat at the table.”

Orpheus swore he could feel hot, burning steam radiating off Eurydice. She was angry, no, furious, pissed off even. She took a deep, shaky breath. Eyes glued to the boy alone on the floor, “Miko, for as long as you stay with us, which will hopefully be a for a long while, we will never, and I mean NEVER, make you eat on the floor.”

Miko raised his head, “you want me to stay?”

Eurydice bopped her up and down, “we’d love for you stay with us.”

“A-and no floor?”

“No floor.”

“...never ever?”

Eurydice smiled, “never ever never.”

Miko grinned, letting out an airy giggle at Eurydice’s words. Both adults felt their chest grow warm, filled to the brim with pure, tender joy. As he grinned, Orpheus noticed a few of Miko’s baby teeth were missing. Eurydice spoke again, “so Miko, do you want to eat up here with us?”

Miko’s smile dropped once again. Maybe it was too soon to expect him to be ready for such a major change. Suddenly, Orpheus thought of a brilliant idea, “Miko, how about instead of you sitting up here, we come and eat with you on the floor? We can sit on the rug near the fireplace. It can be like a picnic!”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Eurydice agreed, blown away at how sweet and quickly her husband had come up with the suggestion. “What do ya say, Miko? Can we join you?”

Miko’s eyes widened, tiny tears popping up in his eyes. In a quiet voice, no louder than a whisper, he said, “yes, please.”

…

After their lively meal on the living room floor: jammed packed with giggles, soup slurping contests, and funny stories, the three now lay spread out, bellies full from bowls of hearty soup. The soft sounds of the crackling fire echoed the home. Miko was cuddled up in Eurydice’s side, his arms wrapped around her middle and one of hers going down his back. Orpheus had just finished washing the dishes and returned to join his wife and the young boy. He reached out to grab his guitar, giving the old instrument a few good strums. Miko’s attention promptly fell on Orpheus, curiosity evident on his face.

“Want to hear Orpheus play?” Eurydice asked Miko, fingers back to playing with his hair. “He’s the best musician in the world.”

Without even looking in a mirror, Orpheus could tell his cheeks were aflame. Beaming from his wife’s praise, he stopped his strumming, “any request you two?”

“How about the new one you’ve been working one?” Eurydice suggested. “You mentioned when we came home that you figured out that part you were stuck on.”

“It’s not finished yet.”

“Don’t matter. I still want to hear it. And I’m sure Miko wouldn’t mind. Right, Miko?” Miko, whose eyes were still locked on the guitar in Orpheus’ lap, gave a quick nod.

Orpheus grinned, “okay, if you insist.”

Then he began. Fingers skillfully plucking strings, a beautiful melody floated through the air. After a short instrumental, he opened his mouth and started to sing:

“When I'm lost, you bring me back

When I cry, you make me glad

When I think I have it bad

I think of You

“When I don't know where to go

And I feel like I'm alone

When I hang my head down low

I think of You

“Each night You wait outside my door

Cause You want to know ohh, I think of You…”

Miko was completely enthralled- eyes open and locked, his body leaning forward as if to be closer to the sound. Eurydice had to check that he was still breathing. She had suspected the young boy would enjoy her husband's music, but to see him, this enthused filled her heart with pride. She wiggled her fingers on Miko’s stomach, causing the boy to giggle loudly. Orpheus smiled at the exchange and continued his song until the end, or well until he got to where he last let off. “So, how was that?”

“As lovely as ever lover boy,” Eurydice swooned. “What did you think, Miko?” Miko nodded his head so fast Eurydice was scared it would come flying right off.

“Thanks,” Orpheus said. He watched Miko stare down the guitar, balancing on his legs. “You wanna touch it?”

“Can I?”

Orpheus pushed the guitar away and patted his lap, “come sit here.” Miko crawled over to Orpheus, who scooped him up and placed the boy in his lap. He put the guitar over their laps, then guided Miko’s fingers over the strings and fretboard. “Okay, put your fingers here, and one right there, and...strum!”

Miko did as instructed, and a slightly off note rang out. Miko was all smiles regardless, “You hear Euri?”

“I did, Miko, good job hun,” Eurydice cheered.

“Orphe, did I do a good job?” Orphe? ‘Well, I guess that’s my new name.’

“That was very good. You wanna try the next one?”

“Yes!”

So they continued, learning one chord to the next. Soon the lesson was forgotten altogether as Orpheus began to play some simple song that he was most definitely making up as he went:

“Miko, oh Miko,

A young boy dressed in blue

Look out here comes a pack of…uhh...”

“Puppies!” Miko giggled loudly. Orpheus glanced at his wife, eyebrows high. Was this cheery boy in their room even the same child from earlier in the evening?

“Puppies! Oh, Gods please let that be true!”

Eurydice watched the two in awe: Miko all smiles and laughs and Orpheus singing aloud, playing music without a care. She could get used to this; early mornings laughs as the sun blared through the windows, midday walks through the forest, cold fingers entwined as the wind blew, late evening songs bundled up near the fire. She and her now, two boys, yeah, she could get used to this.

#hadestown #orphydice #orpheus #eurydice #orpheus x eurydice #hadestown musical

50 notes · View notes

pact-ideas · 5 years

Text

Your home is the beautiful hidden city of Leira a haven for the wood elves to hide away from the cruelty of the outside world, each house was made from the wood of a different tree and the city was warded away from the rest of the world by a magical forest that never let anyone through its majestic depths, life in Leira was peaceful as it had been for a thousand years

you fucking hate it

ok maybe not the peace, the peace was nice everyone can agree that peace was if a little boring generally a good thing but.... well.... ok first of all that magical forest thing works two way no one can leave. ever. this didnt stop you trying when you were little you used to take off into the forest determined to see what was at the other side but no matter how hard you tried or how you navigated or how long you were walking or anything you always ended up back in Leira it was always the same you would end up right back at home and your mother would brush the twigs out of your hair and say how “silly” you were to get lost in the forest it made you indescribably angry but you didnt even understand why

growing up in this place was a nightmare, Leira was created by melora the goddess of nature so as you can imagine the culture of leira was pretty heavily dedicated to sucking her metaphysical dick, everyone’s a vegetarian and natures roams free throughout the city which is nice and all but when your late for school and you get stuck behind a 20 ton bear it easy to loose your fucking patience and it not like you want to kill an animal or anything but your desperately curious to know what meat tastes like. one night there was a big wild fire and a bunch of birds got roasted in the flames and yeah it was sad and all that but my god the SMELL! it was amazing and theres no way you can ever get any kind of meat since theres no privacy anywhere in the god damn city, you live with your family and streets are ALWAYS busy with people and even in the rare moment when theres no other elves around theres always some kind of nature around and since most of the elves if the city can speak to animals your pretty sure if you did anything too sacrilegious it would be reported before you could say “barbecue”. and the people ugh the FUCKING PEOPLE you mother keeps nagging you and telling you off for regecting all your sutiors but in fairness your not really regecting 8 or 9 suitors your regecting one because EVERYONE HERE IS THE FUCKING SAME THEYVE GOT LONG FLOWING HAIR THEYRE SLIM AND DELICATE LOOKING THEY WRITE POTRY ABOUT NATURE AND THEY PROBABLY PLAY THE FUCKING PAN FLUTE.

ok what the fuck is up with pan flutes theyre anoying to play and they dont even sound good why cant we just bang some fucking sticks together and make some real noise!

and the worst thing about it is that everyone you have ever met god damn loves it here if you go to a town elder to ask about if people can get through the forest he just pats you on the head and says some shit like “dont worry little one no outsiders will ever get in” and you have to fight back the urge to scream beacause NO LORENCE YOU DONT GET IT but you just nod and smile because if you say anything than you get branded as even more of a fucking outsider than when you decided to tie up your hair for the first time.I mean by the GODS what is wrong with tying up your hair? ugh you know whats wrong with it in Leria elves belive that hair should flow out beautifuly and naturally its common for full adults to have hair that reaches the floor and some elders employ neighbourhood kids to pick up their hair after them when they walk so it doesn't trail behind them on the ground but whoever decided that elvish hair was contantly elegant never seemed to be able to get your hair to obey. your hair constantly got caught on buttons and jackets and even door handles! your hair is only down to your waist and its already the biggest nuisance in your life you cant imagine it reaching the floor and always getting stepped on so one day you had had enough, you got some twine and tied up your hair you thought it looked pretty good but when your mother saw it for the first time my god it was like you were dying she asked what was wrong if you needed some kind of help and after she hear that your hair was getting in the way she decided to spend three hour THREE FUCKING HOURS brushing it which is not only fucking painfull but its the kind of stupid bullshit you were trying to avoid when you tied it up in the fucking first place. eventually people got a little more used to you tying up your hair there was always a limit there was always a “oh honey grannies coming round for dinner so dont you think you should take down your hair?” and its like ..... why? but becuase theyre your family you dont question it and let your hair down but secretly you think that maybe granny wouldnt mind it if you could eat without accidentally getting stray hairs in your mouth every....single...time you took a bite to eat.

buuuuuut theres some hope theres a legend of a warrior with a great connection to nature who must leave the safty of the city and defeat a great evil in the outside world and your determined that that person will be you you got to the libary at noght and read books on the outside world and FUCK it sounds so fucking interesting so different so god damn DIFFERENT you read about beings who live between dimensions and every single member of there race is completly different to each other every single one is entirly unique some are good some are evil some have physical forms some are made of gas and some of them are just a mad pile of limbs I mean can you imagine? the very idea of beings like that sets you mind ablaze and your determined to meet one but the fucking problem with that is the the legendary hero is suppose to be able to connect with nature and you... struggle with that. you call out to the trees to obey your commands you try to connect with the animals and you appeal to the elements but nothing ever works its so fucking frustrating this is your only chance of leaving the city and you can even begin to make progress everyone in the city at least has SOME connection to nature there are toddlers that can make flowers bloom and you cant even bend a branch. everyone teacher youve ever had tells you not to give up and to keep trying and that you just need to look deep down withing yourslef and find the connection you dont know is there but that just bullshit the reason you can connect with the trees is because deep down you dont WANT to connect with the trees you know it and the trees know it why cant anyone see?everyone in the world from your teacher to your parents tyo the town elders to the fucking animals seemed to think that your just one attitude adjustment away from being a perfect happy elf “keep trying” they say “you’ll get it eventually” all your fucking life youve been hearing that but you know what? you dont want to be a perfect elf with long hair and a dozy smile you dont want to be the hero who connects with nature and is celebrated as the perfect figure you dont want to be here anymore! you want to eat meat and wear clothes that dont make me look like a plant obsessed ballet dancer and fight people with your bare hands and play the drums and do whatever you want with my hair and be FUCKING FREE

you sneak into the library the books your looking for is old and worn but within it is the ritual that you need. The great one Uthuctarr is surprised to be contacted by an elf but you get along like a house on fire. soon the terms of the pact are agreed you have the pentagram scrawled onto the library floor in chalk all you need to seal the pact is a part of your self, most people use blood but you have a better idea, you take out the dagger you stole, its carved out of bone it was used by ancient elves to hunt in the days when the world was new, functionally the bone dagger is everything the elves of Leira stand against but they couldnt destroy it without discrediting their precious history. its perfect, you undo the twine holding your hair and let the blond mass fall forward over your face. with your left and you grab a clump of long blond hair near the base and with your right you take the blunt bone dagger and cut. you hand is not steady and your hair is thick but that doesnt stop you and soon a huge chunk of blond mess falls away into the centre of the pentagram. you pause for a moment thinking about what youve just dont and you realise you can feel the night hair against your ears and in all you life youve never felt anything more divine you begin to laugh, truly laugh. not at a joke or out of politeness but out of pure unfiltered joy. quickly you grab another clump and get back to work. after a few more minutes of frenzied cutting your finally free of you long messy STUPID hair, you gather the hair into the centre of the pentagram and step back. suddenly all on its own the hair bursts into dark blue flames, the small is awful, you love it, from the fire a tiny thread of blue flame pushes out of the flame and begins to weave its way out of the library though the city and into the forest the locals are mystified but you know whats happening after all these years you are finally being shown the path out of Leira.

#pact ideas #eldritch #pact #elf #elves #dnd #dnd 5e #character idea #wow this was long #warlock #anger #family #long post #loooooong post #im sorry for the people who have to scroll through this #lovecraft #lovecrafian #rebelion

133 notes · View notes