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astarryon · 3 years

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Another Lifetime: Shouldn’t Have Gotten Shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Description of war and battle injuries, mentions of blood, gunshots, language, etc.

Summary: Bucky doesn’t like talking about her, but Dr. Raynor isn’t an easy person to argue with. And now that it’s summer –– now that he’s living through the months they’d shared together all over again, only without her by his side –– fighting the memories becomes all the more difficult.

A/N: Listen, I really don’t know what’s gotten into me but ever since tfatws started I have been INSPIRED! Hoping to update this fic sem regularly, but we’ll see where the new school term takes us. As always, I hope you enjoy, and feel free to let me know what you think!

Bucky Barnes has never been overly fond of the summer.

One aspect was the fact that he could remember what it was like to be a miserable kid living in a cramped Brooklyn apartment with no air conditioning and three baby sisters who never stopped whining about the heat. Of all the jumbled, foggy memories bouncing around the confines of his skull, that one is clearer than most. And though he still finds it difficult to picture the faces of his little sisters –– can’t hardly remember arcs of their noses, much less the colors of each of their eyes –– a nostalgic, brotherly feeling washes over him all the same.

There’s also the little detail that he’d received his draft notice in the summer months. That Bucky remembers perfectly, one of the few memories strong enough to remain unmuddied by all those years of shitbag scientists rooting around his head and picking his brain apart. The heat that year had been sweltering, and once his mother found him in her kitchen with that damned letter clutched between his fingers, he felt it burn right through the strings of his heart.

The first week of July delivered the news. The last saw him shipping out to bootcamp.

He guessed he didn’t mind the sunshine. That part had always been nice, and it helped to calm him on occasion these days, to remember that the golden rays licking comforting heat up his skin were the same ones which had shone down on him back in the 40s, before and during the war.

Before Hydra had condemned him to seventy long years of dark and cold.

To that end, logic said the season he really should hate was winter, but he’d never felt any ill will toward the colder months, and found now, in the present, that he’d only grown fonder of them. When the rain came down from the sky in sheets, or when snow fell so thick it resembled white, puffy clouds blanketing the ground, he took walks. Partly because no other soul would be idiotic enough to trudge through a borderline natural disaster at three in the morning, meaning he wouldn’t have to put up with prying eyes and conspicuously pointing fingers, and partly because experiencing said natural disasters in solitude did wonders for the soul.

Steve thought it was strange. Hated that Bucky did it, kept insisting that he at least take a goddamn jacket, there isn’t any actual proof he can’t get pneumonia. But Bucky always shook his head and declined, rolling his eyes and muttering beneath his breath about how apparently the tables have fucking turned.

But, no. The winter, the rain, the cold –– none of that could ever draw half as much ire from him as did the gentle beginnings of June, the scorching heat of July, the fading light of August. Because those weren’t the things which served as reminders from before.

Reminders of her.

“James. Did you hear me?”

Bucky blinks hard, freeing his gaze from the wall calendar tacked up and viewable just over his doctor’s shoulder. Glancing down, he sees the familiar green of the velvet armchair –– one of three options for patients to choose from in her office, and Bucky’s personal favorite on account of the way its textures did something to sooth him as he gripped its arm anxiously with his flesh hand –– and the worn, fraying knees of his black jeans against it. He doesn’t bother meeting his therapist’s gaze. He already knows which of her expressions he’ll find her leveling at him, if he does.

“Sorry,” Bucky mutters, sucking his teeth. He hopes his voice isn’t quite as strained as it sounds –– though, judging by the way Dr. Raynor clucks her tongue as her fingers twitch toward her pen, it definitely is. “Guess I’m a little scattered today.”

The sardonic hum Raynor gives in response as she knowingly tilts her head nearly makes him open his mouth to finish the silent argument she’d started, but Bucky knows better than that. The moment he starts up, she’ll feign innocence and inquire as to why he feels the need to defend himself when no verbal accusation has been made. God damn, it would be just his luck to end up with the one government assigned therapist actually capable at her job.

“That’s what you said yesterday,” Dr. Raynor offers. “And the two days before, if memory serves me right.”

Bucky shakes his head and tsks, tapping a metal finger against his temple. “Not a funny joke, doc. Remember the audience you’re dealing with here.”

“‘Deflecting.’”

The word drops from Raynor’s mouth with a simpleness that puzzles him.

“‘Scuse me?” he prompts when she only goes on to stare at him owlishly.

“Oh, that’s what I’d be writing in my notebook,” she explains simply, folding her hands together in her lap and leaning back in her chair. “If we were using it right now, that is.”

Again, Bucky rolls his eyes, and has to make an active attempt not to cross his arms like a forlorn child. The threat in her words is easily recognizable, not that she’d really bothered trying to conceal it. She knows that damn notebook irritates him more than any other aspect of their current arrangement, and he knows she’s not bluffing. If he doesn’t start talking, Raynor starts writing –– and if Raynor starts writing, he gets tailed by government watchdogs to ensure there are no imminent incidents lurking in the near future.

He sighs dejectedly and meets her gaze. “What was it you asked me?”

“What it is about the month of June that makes you so uncomfortable.”

Bucky blinks, red alarm bells shrieking in his head. Fuck, he can’t help but think. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Caught red handed.

“June’s fine,” he tries, but even to his own ears the assurance sounds weak. To think, he’d once been the most prolific tool of espionage around –– now he can hardly deliver a lie with a straight face. “Don’t have any feelings toward it one way or the other.”

“Strike two,” Raynor quips, glancing one again toward her pen.

Fuck!

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Bucky sits a little straighter in his seat, searching for any semblance of comfort to be found while already knowing he was bound to come up short. Damn it all. She wasn’t going to let him out of this one.

“Alright, hold your horses,” he sighs, waving a halting hand. Raynor’s expression doesn’t shift. She simply continues peering at him with her dark eyes, waiting patiently for his next few words to come. “Why do you assume I’ve got a problem with June?”

“Because you didn’t start staring at that calendar until it switched over from May,” Raynor supplies. “Like I mentioned, today isn’t the only day you’ve been scattered. Seems like something we should consider talking about.”

“No,” Bucky answers quickly. Too quickly. Shit. If she thought he’d been deflecting before, he didn’t even want to know the words running through her mind in regards to his behavior now. “I mean–– well, no. I don’t think it’s that important.”

Raynor arches a brow. “Funny,” she tells him, “the way your eyes keep drifting back to the word ‘June’ tells me otherwise.”

He sighs, worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth. Caught between a rock and an even bigger, weightier rock. The universe really wasn’t one to take his side often.

Bucky knows there really isn’t any choice here. Either he does what Raynor asks and elaborates on his suspicious behavior, or he risks facing the repercussions of those notes she’ll be jotting down in her notebook. Which of the two evils is more definitively the lesser, he can’t rightly say, but he knows which of the consequences he’d prefer to suffer through. And they’re certainly not the ones which see him robbed of the ability to walk freely down the street without a detail of armed babysitters.

So he figures that, maybe for once, being honest can’t be the worst decision to make.

“A few years ago, back before the blip,” Bucky tries, “I spent a summer in Wakanda.”

“Housed by the royal family,” Raynor nods, tone soft. “We’ve spoken about that before. You said you found it peaceful there. That you liked it.”

He did, and still does. On the nights when his mind isn’t quiet enough to let him find sleep but his heart feels light enough to forego the slideshow of horrors he’d been made to suffer throughout the years, Bucky’s thoughts often return to the bliss which life in Wakanda had offered him. He’d remember the farm he kept there, the little children who would come to sing and play and dance in trees to keep him company in the afternoons. He’d remember Princess Shuri –– Just Shuri, James, come now –– and the kindness she’d displayed in deactivating the deeper, most concerning parts of his programming. The day she’d told him it was done, turned off, that he’d never be forced to revert back to the Soldier against his will again, he’d rushed her and caught her up in a bearhug so relieved and forceful that her Dora Milaje detail had actually pointed their spears at him. He’d remember the tranquility of it all, the simpleness.

The peace.

There’s no hope of him being able to return to that place any time soon, much as he’d like to, but the memories sit resolutely concrete in his mind. The first of a new set which he’d never have to worry about being stolen away from him by the currents of an electric shock.

“It’s a nice place,” Bucky affirms, sighing wistfully at the thoughts swirling up in his head. “I bring it up because back then, that summer… I started remembering a few things. From before.”

Raynor keeps her face smooth and composed, but Bucky notices the twitch in her cheek that says she’s got a question. “When you say before,” she asks, voice gentle, “do you mean your time as the Winter Soldier?”

He shakes his head, swallowing thickly. Ironically, things would be easier, were that the case. He might not be so miserable in the present, seeing the month of June start all over again. The melancholy might not be so strong. “No, not then. I mean from before. From the 40s, during the war. I don’t know if it was Wakanda’s heat that did it, or that my programming was officially deactivated. But one night I went to sleep in my hut like normal, and then the next morning I woke up, and… and I remembered.”

Raynor clasps her hand together in her lap, the pen, the notebook, the hesitation all forgotten. Bucky sees it in her expression, the shock at the fact that he’s speaking, that she’s actually making progress in getting him to talk about things so painful he often wonders if they aren’t better left in the past. He’s still trying to figure that one out. Miserable as he’s been for the first four days of June, he figures nothing good or relieving or positive can come from retelling this particular tale. It’s all behind him now, and there isn’t anything to be done to change the ending in any significant way.

But… but he figures he owes it to her. As painful as the memories are, they can’t be anything in comparison to what she must have gone through in the aftermath of it all.

Slowly, Raynor crosses one ankle over the other. “What was it that you remembered, James?”

Bucky sighs, closing his eyes and inhaling as deep a breath as he can pull. He lets it loose after counting to six, then opens his eyes again and crosses his arms over his chest. “It started back in June of 1944. I got shot.”

––

June 1st, 1944

It was damn lucky you weren’t sleeping much these days.

A funny thought, really. One which brings a sarcastic, bitter smile to your lips as you bend your neck to get a closer look at your handiwork. Wasn’t it just two nights ago that you’d been laying in your cot, staring up at the moon through the flap of your tent and counting all the reasons it wasn't fair that the bliss of unconsciousness evaded you? Wasn’t it three that you’d considered sneaking into the med tent and downing a few of the sleeping pills meant for the soldiers? You hadn’t, of course –– god only knew the sort of trouble you’d get in if it came to pass that you were caught –– but the consideration had been there all the same.

“Fuckin’ shit!”

The foul language, mixed with the rough jerk of the body beneath your dexterous hands, was enough to steal your attention back from your jaded inner monologue. Nearly two years back, when you’d first signed on to work as a field nurse, the pained outburst would have sent you flinching. Now, the swearing isn’t anything new, and thankfully for the soldier whose leg you were currently stitching up, it was no longer anywhere near enough to give you pause.

“You better hold still unless you want this to scar even worse than it's already going to,” you tell him matter of factly, gently tugging the thread the rest of the way through your current stitch.

The soldier –– Matthews? Moore? You can hardly remember the name he’d gasped at you in pain, but you’re sure it started with an ‘M’ –– rakes his dirty hands over his even dirtier face, brown eyes squeezing themselves shut as his fingers quake with agony. “Sorry,” he rasps, skin paling. “Just… Jesus, shit hurts so bad!”

You cluck your tongue, guilt racking your heart as you push the needle through his skin once more. “Shouldn’t have gotten shot then, genius,” you murmur, shaking your head disapprovingly.

It works. For a moment the soldier’s face twists in disbelief, and in the next, a shuddering, wheezing gasp of laughter expels itself from his throat. The sight is bleak, but it’s enough to twist your heart with warmth as you once again pull the thread through the stitch. You’d learned in the first few months of working as a nurse on the frontlines that the last thing these men wanted or needed was to be coddled along over their injuries, especially by a woman. Vulnerability was more averse to them now than ever before.

Personally, you don’t much understand it –– but your work isn’t, and has never been, about yourself.

“Look, why don’t you tell me something,” you start, glancing up to… Morrison’s…? face in apology before sticking him with the needle yet again. He jerks, but not quite so violently this time. Another one down. Only about a thousand more to go tonight. “How’d all this happen? I thought you boys weren’t meant to scope the new territory until tomorrow afternoon. Y’know, in the daylight? When you can actually see whether or not someone in the distance is pointing a gun at you?”

“Unit leader was gettin’ jumpy,” the soldier coughs out, groaning against the pain. Guilt stabs your heart like a knife. You’d have given him something for the pain if you had it, something to numb the wound. But shipments of med supplies were behind, and it would be at least a week before you got your hands on anything like that again. “Said going at night would be better, that we could get the drop on them before they even knew we were coming.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Never mind the fact that their soldiers know the land better than ours do.”

So, the unit leader had jumped the gun. You’d figured as much, when two of your nurses had run into your tent with messy hair and sleep addled expressions, panicking about the oncoming slew of injured soldiers who needed immediate medical attention. That had been two hours, six patients, and about one hundred and ninety seven stitches ago.

Again. It was lucky you weren’t sleeping much these days.

The soldier whose leg you were currently stitching up opened his mouth to speak –– whether to snark along with you at the poor choice made by the unit’s leadership or to blindly defend his superior’s decision, you couldn’t be altogether sure –– but before he could even fix his mouth to properly shape the words, a sudden roar of someone else’s agony effectively cut him off.

Steadying your hands, you carefully turn to peer over your shoulder, searching for the source of the commotion. All night, you’d been surrounded by a cacophony of screaming soldiers, but that yell of pain is one you’re certain hasn’t yet met your ears. And, as you watch the flap of the med tent swing back before admitting entry to three people –– one of your nurses and two soldiers, one leaning bodily against the other –– you discover that your assumption is correct.

“We got a bad one,” the nurse –– Sally, curly haired, nearing twenty four and a bit more capable than the other girls when met with the sight of blood –– shouts. Her eyes scan the tent, searching and searching until her gaze finally lands on you. She pauses only a moment to turn and direct the uninjured soldier to drag the one he’s supporting over to an empty cot before barrelling in your direction. “Gunshot wound to the abdomen. I haven’t really had the chance to get a good look at it, but he’s–– well, to be frank, that man has lost a shit ton of blood.”

A gutshot. Poor guy would either go through a sickening amount of pain just to die, or he’d survive, and end up having to endure even more pain. Either way, in light of your depleted supply of painkillers, ‘excruciating’ didn’t even begin to describe it.

Oh, damn it all.

“Take over here for me,” you command, gesturing with your chin to the needle perched between your fingers. Sally’s already moving to pluck it from your hand before you’ve even finished speaking. “He’s got about fifteen to go before we even think about sending him back to his tent. Don’t let him convince you otherwise.”

“You don’t think I know better?” Sally remarks drily, but you don’t have the time to come up with a witty comeback. You’re already on your feet and rushing toward the soldier writhing in pain across the tent, reflexively grabbing a collection of gauze, thread, tweezers, and rubbing alcohol along the way.

This isn’t going to be much fun for either of you.

The first thing you do is excuse the uninjured soldier, the one who’d carried him in. For one, there isn’t any need to keep him witness, and for another, you work better when an addition of unnecessary eyes aren’t tracking your every move. Besides. You doubt the poor soul laying on your med cot is at all interested in one of his peers –– one not sick or out of his mind due to his own pain, that is –– see him in this state. So, you simply thank the young man for his assistance and shoo him back in the direction from which he’d come, waiting until he’s passed the tent’s entrance before turning your full, undivided attention to your newest patient.

He’s got his eyes screwed shut tight in pain. You can hardly blame him. Of all the wounds to suffer through, a gutshot has the potential to win least desirable. It’s easy enough to see why, as the young man’s handsome features carve themselves into an expression of despair. A slick sheen of sweat coats his pale forehead, dampening his dark hair and sticking it to his skin. He’s biting down so hard on his bottom lip in effort to swallow his screams that you’re genuinely shocked he hasn’t drawn blood.

Though, part of you wonders if there’s even enough blood left in his body for his lip to bleed. Deep scarlet blooms stain his green shirt, so thoroughly soaked through that the fabric has turned almost black. Swathes of red cover his torso, his pants, the pale skin of his arms. It’s everywhere, already leaking onto the white sheets of the cot.

Sally wasn’t kidding. He really has lost a shit ton of blood.

“Hey there, soldier,” you start up, setting your collection of medical supplies down before taking a closer look at his torso. Shirt sticking to his skin the way it is, you aren’t going to be able to get much done until it’s out of the way. And, given that this man is certainly in no state to shrug it off himself, you’ve got no choice but to cut it. Lucky that you’d thought to grab a pair of scissors too, you suppose. “Don’t suppose you might be able to help a girl out by telling her what year it is?”

His jaw works for a few moments, teeth grinding together so forcefully the sound is audible. You think he might be gearing up to let loose another scream before he shakes his head a single time. “I got–– got shot,” he wheezes, whole body shaking, “not concussed. Don’t–– ah, don’t really… get how the year’s relevant.”

You exhale a bemused scoff through your nose, considering your response as your scissors work their way through the bloody fabric concealing his wound. You’re working as gently as you can, and so far it seems to be doing the trick. The soldier hasn’t flinched once since you started, though it’s hard to tell if that’s more due to the fact that he hadn’t noticed any difference one way or the other, or if it’s because he’s dedicating what strength he has left to keeping his head screwed onto his shoulders.

“Fair point,” you reply, still carefully cutting through his shirt. “How about a name, then? Little more relevant to the conversation, I’d say.”

It takes a few moments of silence for him to respond –– almost as if he’s trying to remember that he’s got a name –– but eventually, it comes.

“James,” he tells you, the single syllable leaving his mouth in a pained grunt.

You nod, cutting away the last of the fabric. “Nice to meet you, James,” you tell him, carefully peeling the tatters of his ruined shirt from his abdomen. “You just hold tight a little longer for me, alright? We’ll fix you up good as new.”

It isn’t a pretty sight, what you find beneath. Under all that red is a nasty wound, jagged and swollen at the edges, punched into the flesh just beneath the southmost edge of his ribcage. Thankfully, no bones have been hit –– a shattered rib would be immediately evident, both in the pitch of his screams and the deformed shape of his chest –– but the wound is more than a little inflated. There’s a puffiness to it that you can’t comprehend, a stiffness to its perimeter that doesn’t click in your mind, until––

Until you see the small, dark center, and suddenly it does.

You swear beneath your breath, a filthy, ugly word that you’d picked up a few weeks back from one of your patients. You don’t even know what it means, not really, but speaking it feels cathartic enough that you don’t altogether care.

Oh, sweet, holy hell.

James cracks an eye open, muttering, “Darlin’, you rea–– you really gotta work on your bedside manner.”

“Alright, listen to me, James,” you tell him, forgoing a witty response. You don’t have the time, not considering what you’re now dealing with, and you figure James will appreciate your working hands more than he’ll appreciate your shitty attempts at banter. “There’s… there’s something I need to do for you, before I can start patching you up. Now, normally I could give you something for the pain, but we’re out of the anesthetic I need. So this isn’t gonna… it’s not gonna feel very good.”

James looses a labored sigh, oddly calm for the clear anguish marring his face. “Shit, well good news,” he mutters, swallowing thickly, “it already doesn’t.”

His lashes flutter in a telltale manner, one which lets you know he’s getting closer to the brink and you’re running short on time. It’s easy enough, not to give in to the panic this incites in your chest. You’ve been doing this job a long time now, know that what James needs is your calm, your level-headedness. Those things have a higher chance of keeping him alive, of seeing to it that he comes out of this on the other side. Scarred up, maybe, and without the ability to breathe as deep as he once could, but still alive.

You shake your head, grabbing the tweezers from where you’d set them down before planting your forearm against an uninjured section of James’ bare chest for leverage. “Alright, big breaths, James. You scream as loud as you want or need to, but just… try and stay as still as you can, okay? I won’t be able to stop until it’s done.”

The only answer he gives in response is a shaky nod, the thick black fringe of his lashes brushing his cheekbones as his lips begin to move at a speed with which your eyes can hardly track. A prayer, you figure, or a plea for a quick end. Whichever it is, it helps him to relax just the tiniest bit more, slightly smooths out the lines of pain and suffering etched into his face.

Until you start digging with the tweezers, that is.

Then it’s all white hot screams of pain.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper beneath his cries, words drowned out by the sheer volume of the howls ripping out of his throat. But you don’t stop working, don’t withdraw the tweezers from his bloody wound. You hadn’t been joking when you told him starting meant you couldn’t stop until you finished. Abandoning the task now meant leaving James to bleed out in a matter of seconds. “I know it hurts, I’m sorry. You’re doing good, though, alright? You’re doing amazing. I’m sorry.”

It takes a moment for the tweezers’ edges to find the metal bullet lodged in his skin. At first, all you can feel is a mess of flesh and muscle, shredded and frayed from the impact of the gunshot. For a few short seconds, you wonder if your eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on you, if it would have been more wise to search for an exit wound on his back than to simply jump straight in without taking the time to stop and think.

But your worries are unfounded –– proven two seconds later when your tweezers make contact with the tiny, foreign object threatening James’ life. Carefully, you maneuver the tweezers into the correct position to properly take hold of the bullet. Then, with one last whispered apology, you slowly and carefully begin to pull.

James’ legs buck hard against the cot, arms straining at his sides where he’s got both his hands fisted into the sheets in an attempt to hold on for dear life. His teeth chatter against each other, knocking and clacking as he tries to get ahold of the screams pouring freely from him, and that thin sheen of sweat coating his skin has turned into a full on tidal wave.

But his torso doesn’t move –– not a single inch.

“We’re almost done,” you assure him, keeping your hand steady as you continue gently easing the bullet up, and up, and up. You can just make out the silver edges of it now, slick with blood and dented. It won’t be long now, before it’s out and you can start working on staunching the blood leaking from his body. Maybe you can lift his spirits with a joke or two then, a witty comment to ease some of the pain. Maybe––

The bullet slips from the tweezers, catching you off guard and jerking your hand to the left. It’s only by a centimeter, not a huge distance, but given that you’ve got edges of metal inserted into this man’s wound, to him, it makes all the difference in the world.

James throws his head back and screams, loud enough that you can instantly hear his vocal cords go raw beneath the strain of the volume. A single word leaves his lips; it sounds like Ma, only it’s warped, strangled. Much as you detest the fact, you know the sound well. A soldier crying out for his mother while under the thrall of delirium and pain isn’t exactly a rarity around these parts.

Guilt twists your heart with the razor sharpness of a cruel knife.

“Stop,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “P-please–– please stop!”

“I can’t,” you tell him, already repositioning your tweezers and going back in. Luckily, the bullet is much closer to the surface of his wound now. It only takes a second before you find another grip on it, instantly deciding to forego gentleness in favor of speed. “But the good news is––” With a slight bend of your wrist and a soft, wet pop, the bullet comes loose from his wound. “––we’re done with the shitty part.”

James’ eyes, glassy with pain and pupils blown wide, fall first to the bullet you hold up for his perusal, set against a backdrop of lowlight and your blood covered hand, before wandering their way up to your face. It’s then that you notice his irises are water blue and clear as crystal. You’re not sure why, but their color fascinates you.

“I wanna keep that,” he mutters weakly.

Then, his lashes flutter rapidly and his head lolls to the side, his lungs expelling a great, big breath before shuddering to a halt.

Your heart lurches at the sight. For one, awful moment, you think you’ve just put the poor man through all of that pain and agony only to end up somehow killing him in the process –– never mind the fact that this isn’t the first time you’ve extracted a bullet from a soldier’s abdomen, and certainly isn’t likely to be the last. But then his chest starts up moving again, at a much less worrisome pace. It’s slow, and his breaths are shallow, but they’re still breaths.

Unconscious –– not dead.

The realization is enough to make you send a mental note of thanks to whichever being was kind enough to have shown James mercy.

You allow yourself the shortest of moments to bask in the relief –– that you’d successfully extracted the bullet, that James hadn’t died during or after your attempts to do so, that you aren’t now left to set in motion the process of another condolence letter being shipped across seas to his family.

And once it passes, once you’ve inhaled and exhaled and wiped your hands on a cloth, you grab a cloth and press it to James’ wound, setting to work on stopping his bleeding –– but not before wrapping the bullet you’d just dislodged from his body in a pad of gauze and tucking it into the breast pocket of your uniform.

––

Chapter Two: Someone Good

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mcu #tfatws #catws #marvel #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #au #series #angst #hurt #comfort #1940s bucky

123 notes · View notes

mandalorianbrainweasel · 2 years

Note

May I please have no. 17 for the Jaster/Walon prompts 💛

Walon frowns through breakfast, enough that Jaster lingers at the table while Jango takes dishes to the sink.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, rubbing one thumb on the back of Walon’s neck.

The younger man leans into it. “Fine. I’m debating bringing something up to the administration.”

Jaster is the one frowning now. “What?”

Walon eyes Jango, who’s started washing up but probably has an ear out. That’s fair, Jango tends to be nearly feral about defending Walon from anything and everything. Jaster thinks it might be because, much like Jango’s family, Walon isn’t force sensitive, so he’s decided he has to be protected.

That or he’s just latched onto him that much more than Jaster.

“Did you need to grab something from the library for today?” Jaster asks after considering their tiny—fifteen or not, he’s still short enough that Jaster can haul him around—eavesdropper.

“Yes, can you help me?” Walon asks.

Jango’s shoulders slump, clearly aware he needs to finish his chores before he has a chance to get the gossip.

In the library, there’s a cool breeze from one of the windows that makes the summer heat break and Jaster considers the merits of calling them both in and taking Walon by the window. Alas, his husband probably isn’t going to humour him that much.

“What’s going on?” he asks, sitting on one of the desks and drawing Walon to stand between his knees so he can press their foreheads together.

Walon shuts his eyes and breathes with him for a few seconds. Finally, he says, “One of my students hit on me yesterday. I have him again for a different class today and I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with that.”

Jaster’s hands squeeze Walon’s hips. “Do I know them?”

“Jaster,” Walon says, exasperated.

“That’s a yes, then.” He could have sworn most of their mutual students were aware of their relationship, but he does have that batch of primaries this year. “Human or otherwise?” he asks. It’s always the human students who seem to stir up the most trouble.

Walon rolls his eyes. “You can’t just go and defend my honour. For one, I’m the one more likely to get into trouble about it. For another, you’d be setting a bad example for Jango.”

“I wasn’t going to defend your honour, you don’t need me to,” he swears. “But species is going to affect what kind of help I can give you.”

Walon blinks. “Part togruta, like you.”

Oh, Jaster is very aware which little idiot prime is making his riduur uncomfortable. But it also means the fix is relatively easy. Well—hopefully a fix. That and an implication of why this happened. His guess is the brat can smell both Jaster and Jango on him and is assuming a very different dynamic, especially if their scents aren’t recognizable as more than just ‘other people with togruta blood’, and probably a free space for the brat to exploit.

Jaster shrugs it off, though, and pulls Walon closer. He rubs his face against Walon’s neck, scenting him liberally.

Walon laughs, a little ticklish as Jaster is well aware, and squirms. “You think this will work?”

“Not alone,” Jaster admits with a drawl. He drags his lips along Walon’s neck, arms tightening around him as he shivers.

“A hickie? Jas—.”

Jaster sinks his teeth into Walon’s neck, both pairs of canines working deep before he releases him.

Walon makes a noise that he has full plans to explore tonight, then switches back on to embarrassed rage. “You bit me!”

Jaster hums. “It’s a sign that you very much have a mate.”

Walon freezes and stares at him. “...Ah.”

“Unless the brat wants to find and challenge me, he’ll back off.” He kisses Walon’s cheek. “Promise.”

“If this doesn’t work, you’re sleeping on the couch,” Walon tells him dryly.

“How did it go?” Jaster asks, kissing Walon’s cheek again as the two of them walk behind Jango on the way home.

Walon flushes. “Kid apologized. Very, very worriedly.”

Jaster smirks. “Mmhm. Maybe I should keep that visible to remind him to not to make the same mistake again.”

“You two are so gross,” Jango tosses over his shoulder with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

Jaster and Walon laugh.

#my fanfiction #from a prompt #prompt fill #jaster mereel/walon vau #jaster/walon

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Note

Hi lovely Wolfie!

Lambden Lambden Lambden!

That’s it, that’s the prompt.

💖💖💖

Love u!

I went for Christmassy Lambden! It’s just over 1.3k

Warnings: Swearing, and mentions of sex?

______________________________

Aiden was in the middle of a routine on the dance mat when the power cut out and they were plunged into darkness. The TV crackled as it snapped off and he felt his heart sink. He’d been working on that routine all fucking day and he was sure that time had been a top score.

“Mother fucker!” He cursed and fumbled for his phone.

“What the fuck did you do?” Lambert yelled from his bedroom and the living room lit up in the bright glow of his torch on Aiden’s phone.

Aiden rolled his eyes at his housemate. He was utterly gorgeous and brilliant but at time he could be such a moron. He sighed as he flopped down onto the sofa. “I’m brilliant at many things, sweetheart, but I cannot control the weather. The snow must have cut the power. It hasn’t stopped all day.”

Lambert stalked into the room holding up his own phone as a torch. The light cast eery shadows around the flat and made Lambert look like some kind of Ghost of Christmas. “Does that mean the heating is out as well?”

Aiden nodded with a smirk. “That’s how it works.”

Lambert ruffled his hair roughly and Aiden whined. Lambert, being the little shit that is was, sat on Aiden’s feet with huff. “It’s fucking freezing outside.”

“Oh really?” Aiden drawled. “I hadn’t noticed, what with the snow.”

“Shut it, kitten.”

Aiden sighed and let his head roll back onto the sofa arm. Lambert was right, for once. The temperature would soon drop and fast. They would need to get layers on and blankets to preserve heat, and maybe light a few candles. The torches on their phones wouldn’t last very long without needing to charge them. Aiden dug his feet into Lambert’s thighs.

“Oi!”

“Get up, wolf. We need to get blankets.”

“You could’ve asked nicely,” Lambert grumbled but stood up and pulled Aiden to his feet.

Aiden gripped Lambert’s forearm and, not for the first time, delighting in the feel of Lambert’s muscles under his fingers. Aiden wasn’t weak, quite the contrary, he was just as lethal in a fight as Lambert was when he needed to me but Lambert was built like a house, whereas Aiden preferred to dance around his opponent and strike them when they least expect it. Not that he got into that many fights, but he had a quick temper and the criminal record to prove it.

Aiden pulled himself into Lambert’s space and brushed his lips against his ear. “We need to get blankets, please,” he purred and then cackled as Lambert shoved him hard in the chest and he fell back onto the sofa.

He couldn’t see in the dark but he knew Lambert was blushing. It was so easy to wind his friend up. He was pretty sure Lambert fancied him but his friend was also allergic to feelings so Aiden was doing his best to be patient. It was hard when Lambert looked like a fucking god, and Aiden was not used to waiting. Lambert was worth the effort though. He would always be worth the effort, the fucking bastard. Aiden smirked as he remembered how awkwardly Lambert had been when he’d first moved in. Lambert had kept to his room for the first week, but slowly and surely they’d become best friends.

Aiden just knew they could be the best lovers too. He just had to wait, but with the power out, maybe tonight was the time to make his move.

Together they gathered up all the blankets in the two bedroom house and rifled through the cupboards for some old candles. One had been left behind from Aiden’s last housemate and smelled like apple and cinnamon, like Christmas. Aiden had switched off his phone for now, they had Lambert’s until it ran out of battery, but he was sure he was going to die of boredom. They had no tv, no playstation, no internet. He couldn’t even read properly by candle light and it wasn’t as if they could spend the entire evening making out or fucking each other senseless… not yet at least. It was already starting to get cold even with the pile of blankets so Aiden curled up closer to his friend.

“Get off.”

“It’s cold and you’re practically a radiator. Share your warmth with me, darling.”

Lambert growled but draped his arm over Aiden’s shoulders. Aiden grinned in the darkness; point to him. Once he was sure Lambert had gotten used to the snuggling he sighed dramatically as he ran a finger down Lambert’s chest.

“Sing for me, wolf.”

“What? No!”

“Oh go on, I know you have that guitar hidden in your room. The walls aren’t that thick,” Aiden pouted at his friend in the darkness, barely refraining from commenting on what else he could hear through those thin walls. He needed to play his cards right and mistimed innuendos were not the way to go.

“Will you let me up to get it?” Lambert sighed wearily.

Aiden considered this, continuing to trace pretty pictures on Lambert’s chest seeing as he wasn’t stopping him. “No, come on, wolf. Sing me a Christmas song! It’s only two days away.”

“Which one?”

Aiden grinned and began to sing. “I really can’t stay,”

There was a pause and Aiden jabbed his friend under the ribs and repeated his line, Lambert snarled but there was a begrudging. “But baby, it’s cold outside.”

Aiden giggled. “I’ve got to go away.”

“But baby, it’s cold outside,” Lambert sang more clearly this time and Aiden basked in the warm baritone of his voice.

“This evening has been…”

“Been hoping that you’ll drop by.”

“So very nice,”

“Ok that’s enough,” Lambert grumbled.

Aiden rolled his eyes and swapped roles. “I’ll hold your hands they’re just like ice,” He cooed and he took Lambert’s hand in his and then pressed a kiss to his palm.

“Aiden?” Lambert stammered.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He whispered with his lips still brushing Lambert’s wrist.

“What? Why?” Lambert cut himself off with a growl.

Aiden gazed up at his friend. His gorgeous red curls shone in the flickering candle light and he looked utterly divine. Really no one could blame Aiden for trying. He was completely smitten. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to decipher what Lambert was trying to say. He hadn’t pulled away or shoved Aiden to the floor yet which was better than he’d been hoping for, but he was struggling. Aiden dropped Lambert’s hand reluctantly and reached up to catch one of Lambert’s curls in his fingers. “May I?”

Lambert hummed.

“Wolf?”

“Yes.”

Aiden nodded and slowly ran his fingers through Lambert’s hair. He shifted in his seat and swung his legs round so he was sitting in Lambert’s lap, straddling his waist. He gently brushed the curls away from Lambert’s face. His friend hummed and closed eyes, gradually relaxing under Aiden’s touch.

“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?” He purred as he cupped Lambert’s cheek.

“Fuck off,” Lambert growled and buried his face in Aiden’s neck.

Aiden sighed and carried on stroking his hands through Lambert’s hair. “Please tell me I’ve not completely misread the situation, Lambert?”

Lambert groaned. “No.”

Aiden closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. He smiled softly to himself in the darkness and pressed a kiss to Lambert’s hair before singing softly. “Gosh, your lips look delicious.”

“It’s dark. You can’t see shit.”

“Humour me, darling,” He purred as he gently tugged at Lambert’s hair, pulling his head up so he could see him again.

“Hmm.”

“Can I kiss you?” Lambert nodded but stayed very still so Aiden slowly moved in and placed a kiss on Lambert’s nose. “Again?” Another nod so Aiden kissed Lambert’s cheek. “Again?”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Lambert’s hands gripped the collar of Aiden’s jumper and pulled him into a fierce kiss. Aiden laughed into the kissed but wrapped his arms around Lambert’s neck. Maybe they could spend the power cut making out after all.

________________

Tag list: @marvagon, @elliestormfound @slythnerd @caspertheassholeghost @feraljaskier @artistsfuneral @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @electricrituals @geralt-of-riviass @geraskier-trashh @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @scribblesonmapleleaves @thecomfortofoldstorries @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @ohheytheremiss @kueble @love-more-today-than-yesterday

#the witcher #lambden #laiden #lambert x aiden #christmas prompts #winter prompts #wolfie's witcher writing #stinastar

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cyhyr · 3 years

Text

Whumpmas In July: Support

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: M

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka; Hatake Kakashi & Maito Gai

WC: ~5640

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: Therapy, Flashbacks, Triggers, Making Out, Communication

A/N: This story will make. Next to no sense. If you don't read "Stop" first. I mean, you can certainly try. But really. If anyone needs a summary of the previous fic--I know it's a rough one--send a message and I'll get back to you with it :)

A sequel to "Stop"

For @whumpmasinjuly prompt list

Read on The Archive

“Is there anything else you wanted to discuss today? We still have five minutes.”

Iruka crosses his arms and ducks his head, thinking of how to word his question. Request? “I… How does one go about helping their partner in this kind of situation?”

Rikona leans her elbow on her desk, her chin on her hand. “You’re worried about Hatake-san.”

“He’s the one who found me,” Iruka says. “I’d be worried for anyone who found me in that state. It… it wasn’t pleasant. But because he’s also my partner…” He trails off, not yet knowing how to finish his sentence. Rikona will wait, he knows; he scrubs his face with his palms. “He doesn’t leave me alone anymore.”

“It’s only been three weeks, Iruka-sensei. Surely, he’s being understandably protective, considering what he saw.”

“No, I mean. He won’t take missions. He’s outside in the waiting room right now. He’s on alert in the village. The civilians are starting to notice. My students,” he groans, “they’re asking if Kakashi will just come inside the classroom instead of hanging around in the trees like a creep.”

Rikona hums thoughtfully. “That does seem excessive. Is he seeing anyone? For therapy, of course.”

Iruka shakes his head. “I know it’s noted in his file that he’s attended his required annual psych evals, but he says he’s had Yamanaka in his head before and doesn’t want anyone else in there.”

She sighs. “Their mind jutsu is an offensive technique and shouldn’t be used on fellow Konoha shinobi. Urgh.”

“Urgh indeed,” Iruka agrees.

“I think, the best you can do for now, would be to have Hatake-san confide in someone.”

“I—”

“He’s not going to tell you, Iruka-sensei,” she continues, waving a hand flippantly. “He sees you as someone to protect. He’s not going to put his worries on you. Does he have a good friend you can ask to look into him?”

Iruka smiles, and nods.

Kakashi has a new routine since Iruka’s release from the hospital. He wakes up just before dawn and sneaks out of Iruka’s apartment, where he’s been sleeping at the kotatsu. He visits the memorial stone for twenty-four minutes, the exact amount of time he can give himself and still make it back to Iruka’s before breakfast.

He makes Iruka eat (he doesn’t eat; can’t eat, not this early) and take the medicine he’s been prescribed (a two-week course of antibiotics, and pain medicine as needed). While Iruka eats, he makes bento for both of them. Then he walks Iruka to the Academy, where he hangs out in the tree outside of Iruka’s classroom all day until lunchtime. They eat lunch together, Iruka telling him about the morning classes as though he doesn’t know Kakashi is watching his every breath. When afternoon practicals take Iruka’s class outside, Kakashi shifts silently to another tree to keep his mark.

Iruka used to switch up and use different training fields for different days. Lately, he keeps his class in training field three. It’s the one furthest from the village border. They never discussed this, but Kakashi suspects Rikona-sensei suggested it. She’s been good for Iruka.

Iruka’s afternoons are different day-to-day, but Kakashi stays next to him throughout it all. He sits in the corner, pretending to read, during Mission Desk shifts. He stays in the back of the classroom quietly if Iruka’s on detention duty. He offers assistance if Iruka is tutoring—for theory, he’s gently let down, but Iruka lets him help if he’s tutoring practicals. On Thursdays he walks Iruka to the hospital, to the third floor, and anxiously stays in the waiting room for the hour-long therapy session.

After everything, they’ll pick up something for dinner and head home. To Iruka’s home. Kakashi asks every night if he can stay, and Iruka always says yes, as long as he cooks dinner. A small price to pay for his peace of mind. If it comes with Iruka’s pleased smile at every new dish Kakashi serves him, with a deep moan of content when the soup is the perfect blend of spicy and savory; well, that’s just a bonus.

Iruka always demands to clean up himself. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”

Kakashi doesn’t know what to think about it. He knows now that Iruka stress-cleans; is this just him destressing after… after? Or is he really just dividing the labor?

He only lets Iruka out of sight now that they’re home—in Iruka’s home—and behind the wards. He relaxes, settles down into the kotatsu, and lets Iruka come to him. He always does, every night. Even if it’s just to sit side-by-side, with Kakashi’s arms around Iruka while they each read their own books—Iruka always comes to him at the end of the night.

Sometimes they’ll kiss. It doesn’t get heated, but feeling Iruka close as he is comfortable being is perfect.

He makes sure to send Iruka to bed before he falls asleep. Iruka always asks if he wants the spare room, the one Naruto had once claimed, but Kakashi’s more comfortable at the kotatsu, where he can cover more entrances to the apartment. Not that he tells Iruka that. He trusts Iruka’s wards. But… just in case.

Iruka plans on asking Gai-sensei to take Kakashi out for an evening the next time he sees him at the Mission Desk. It can’t take too long for that coincidence to occur; Team Gai has been taking missions almost non-stop in preparation for the next chūnin exams in a few months.

Kakashi turns the page of his book from his seat in the corner of the room. If nothing else, his constant presence has been a boon in that the more unruly jōnin don’t dare act up while Kakashi is standing guard. And gods, everyone in the village knows that’s exactly what he’s doing and it… it grates on Iruka, that Kakashi feels he needs a guard while he’s safe behind the village walls.

But he can’t ask him to stop. He knows it’s not for him. Kakashi isn’t doing this for Iruka, no matter what he tells himself, or anyone else.

They head home at the end of the night. It’s comfortable, having Kakashi there at his side. He won’t let Iruka wrap an arm around his waist or even hold his hand while they walk, but they’re close enough that they brush elbows and fingertips. Iruka feels the static in the air as they walk, the chakra discharge Kakashi is barely holding back.

Gods help the poor bastard who bumps into them before he gets past this.

On the stairs up to his apartment, Iruka turns and looks down at Kakashi, whose gaze is turned out at the village. “Love?”

Kakashi hums, and cocks his head up at him. He looks so much like a puppy when he does that.

Iruka cups his face with one palm, turning his face the rest of the way towards himself. With his other hand, he cards his fingers lightly through Kakashi’s hair, revelling in the closed-eye sigh he receives. “Rikona-sensei suggested yesterday that I might be ready to try something… more, if you’re up for that,” he murmurs against Kakashi’s hitai-ate.

He watches Kakashi’s throat shift under the mask, his lips part and the fabric dampen with the force of his exhale.

“What are we still doing outside, then?” he finally says.

Iruka grins, and reaches down for his hands. Kakashi gives them to him freely, and they stumble-trip-carry-each-other the rest of the way into his apartment.

It used to be, when Kakashi had come home with him, he’d crowd him against the door and kiss his neck while begging him to get the wards back up. This time, Kakashi pulls Iruka against his chest, putting his own back to the door, and feeds his own chakra into the wards to set them for the night. While he does that, Iruka carefully slides his mask down his face to pool at his collar and sets to kissing him so thoroughly Kakashi has to restart the wards twice to get them right.

Once he’s done, he keeps his hands pressed to the wood of the door; Iruka can feel the strain of want in his shoulders.

“What happened to ‘best ass in Konoha’?” he mutters against Kakashi’s lips.

Kakashi moans; asks, “It’s okay? Can I? Please please please let me touch you, Love, I—”

“If your hands aren’t on my ass by the time I finish this—oh, fuck.”

Kakashi squeezes in pulses, kisses him back, and starts walking him out of the genkan. Sandals, vests, hitai-ate, wrappings—all are gone as quickly as possible, with silent taps against each piece to ask Is this okay? Can I take this off of you? All the while, they keep kissing, tongues meeting gently and lips gasping at heated brushes of bare skin.

Kakashi pulls Iruka down on top of him as they fall onto the kotatsu. He takes advantage of the new position and dives for that sweet spot behind Kakashi’s ear, smiling and pressing his teeth against soft skin.

He’s hard. They’re both hard. It’s wonderful.

Kakashi tips his head back and moans, wraps his arms around Iruka’s waist, spreads his legs and breathes, “More, Iruka, please Love, more.”

“More, what?” Iruka smiles.

“Whatever. Whatever you want to give me, I’ll take. Just. Gods, feels so-so nice.”

Iruka dips his head, kisses Kakashi’s neck, and rocks his hips slowly against Kakashi’s. “Fuck, love,” he gasps. “You-You’re so beautiful like this.”

He frots a little harder, a little faster, and it’s amazing.

But something—something’s off.

The hairs on the back of his neck rise. Iruka looks up.

Kakashi’s head is still tipped aside. His breath is stuttering. The sharingan is open. One of his arms falls off of Iruka’s back and flops, palm up, to the side.

Oh gods, no.

“Love? Kakashi?” Iruka places a hand on Kakashi's cheek and feels his blood freeze. “Kakashi, my love, come back to me. We’re in Konoha, we’re at home, the wards are up, we’re safe.”

Lightning chakra sparks in his hand. Iruka swallows back the instinctive fear, and throws himself back into waking Kakashi up.

“Please, love, you can’t—you have to come back. Please, we’re not—we’re safe. I’m safe. You already killed him. It’s over,” he ducks his head and presses a kiss to Kakashi’s clothed chest. “My Kakashi, please, please come back to me.”

The lightning doesn’t stop. The sharingan doesn’t close. For so many long, terrible minutes, Iruka waits, willing Kakashi to come back to himself. For the flashback to stop. He wonders how much Kakashi is registering. He rests his head on Kakashi’s chest and listens to his stuttering breath and rabbit-fast pulse.

He does his best not to cry.

Kakashi’s shirt gets wet anyway.

The sparks in his palm eventually stop. Iruka looks up and sees both of Kakashi’s eyes are closed. He leans back down and listens closely, but his pulse and breathing are still off. He must have just chakra-exhausted himself. “Kakashi,” he murmurs. “My love, please wake up. Gods, is this how you feel, when I…”

“...Iru-ka?”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Iruka sighs. He leans up and cups Kakashi’s cheeks. “What do you need, love? What can I—?”

“Water. Please.”

Iruka vaults over the back of the kotatsu to get to the kitchen faster. But as soon as he stands up, he remembers how he feels coming out of an episode—cold, not quite all there—and Kakashi just had a warm weight leave him suddenly. Iruka turns and grabs a throw blanket out of a basket and drapes it over Kakashi; who, indeed, had started to shiver. He looks up at Iruka gratefully, and huddles into the throw, and then also pulls the quilt of the kotatsu closer.

Satisfied, Iruka goes for the water.

They were. They were on the kotatsu. They’d been making out. It was nice. Great. Amazing.

Kakashi fully expected to never get that close to Iruka again and yet, the man had put his teeth on his neck and they had both been hard and-and—

And then he was back in that cave, and his legs ached from running for so long, and the echo of Sato’s words rang between his ears. “You can’t imagine how beautiful your eyes are, full of fear. But you don’t have to be afraid right now, pet. Your eyes are just as beautiful in the throes of ecstasy.” He wasn’t fast enough. Sato had Iruka tied up, his legs over Sato’s shoulders, was going to-to—

Sharingan. Raikiri. Death.

He’s not fast enough. He couldn’t save him. Couldn’t… save—

Sato had Iruka tied up to a pole by his neck.

“You came. You came. You—”

“My Kakashi, please please come back to me.”

...

Kakashi breathes. It hurts. He’s cold, and breathing hurts, and he hasn’t felt like this since Rin—

“Water, love?”

He looks up, and Iruka is coming around the side of the kotatsu with a glass and a plate. He smiles tiredly. He’s in good hands, he supposes; if anyone knows how to treat someone who just went through… that, it’s Iruka.

“I also brought some crackers and cucumber slices,” Iruka says. “May I sit?”

Kakashi nods. “Please.” He tries to sit up so Iruka can have the place where his head currently is, but Iruka waves him away. He places the water in Kakashi’s hand and the plate in easy reach, and then goes to the other side of the kotatsu and sits at Kakashi’s feet.

Their toes touch. Kakashi sips at the water and grabs a cucumber.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Iruka asked.

“I… We were. Y’know. And then I was back in the cave.”

Iruka nods. “Do you know what pushed you there? Something I did, or a position, or—”

“‘Beautiful’,” Kakashi mutters, and then shivers and groans as his stomach tries to turn.

Iruka looks thoughtful for a moment, and then nods. “We won’t say it again. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t have known.”

“Kakashi—”

“I feel so…” Kakashi holds up his hands and looks at them, turns them over. It’s odd. “I can’t describe it.”

“Fuzzy? Raw?”

Kakashi stares over at Iruka and then slowly nods. “Tingly.”

“You manifested lightning chakra in your right palm for almost ten minutes, love. And I’m pretty sure you have a minor case of chakra exhaustion from having the sharingan activated the whole time, too.”

Kakashi groans. “I’m sorry for ruining our night.”

Iruka chuckles. “Try again, love.”

He tilts his head to the side and tries to think. What could Iruka mean…? Oh. Ha.

“Um… I’m not sure—?”

“I’ll always be here if you need me,” Iruka prompts. “Just like you’re always there for me.”

He smiles tiredly. “Thank you, Iruka. For staying.”

“You’re welcome. Do you want to eat more than that, or do you think you just need to sleep it off?”

“I’d like to… to hold you,” Kakashi says, “if that’s alright?”

Iruka scoots over to him and lets Kakashi arrange him against his chest. They rest for much of the evening, until Iruka has to eat more than crackers and cucumbers. After dinner he hovers in the hall, hesitant.

“Do you… um. Kakashi, would it be—ah, fuck.”

“I’ll be okay on the kotatsu again tonight,” he says.

Iruka sighs, and shuffles his feet. “But you don’t have to. We’ve shared a bed before. And I know I always feel better getting to hold you through the night after one of my episodes, so I just thought…”

Kakashi’s heart swells. He grins, stands on slightly shaky legs, and crosses the living room to the hall where Iruka waits.

“Would it make you feel better if I slept with you?”

Iruka shrugs. “I mean, yes, but I don’t want to push you. Flashbacks, Dissociation, it’s no joke, love and—”

“This isn’t the first time I’m going through this,” Kakashi says. Seeing Iruka’s curious glint, he continues, “I’ll tell you about it some other time, but suffice to say I’m. Familiar. With flashbacks. Going through them with someone else; this is the new part for me.”

Iruka reaches out and takes his hand. Tugs him, gently. “Just… come to bed? Please?”

Kakashi glances back at the kotatsu. The living room is better for watching more possible entrances. But Iruka’s in his bedroom. This is a practical choice. “Let me grab my hitai-ate, and I’ll be along.”

Iruka’s smile rivals the sun. Gods, it’s nice to see that smile again.

“Kakashi had a flashback,” Iruka groans. “He’s. He’s got a trigger word.”

“How is he?”

“Raw. Flighty.” He snorts. “More overprotective than he was before, if it was possible.”

Rikona-sensei hums and fiddles with her pen. “Do you feel comfortable talking about what happened? Were you there for it?”

Iruka shrugs. “I was there for it. I… I caused it. I said his trigger word. We didn’t know.”

“That is how we tend to find out about these things.”

“But I don’t. Not yet. It’s not my story to tell.”

“So then tell your story. Tell me your experience, finally being on the other side of this.”

Iruka crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “I…” He chews on his lip. “It was terrifying. I’ve never been scared of Kakashi, okay? Not-not when I was a genin and heard about the genius in ANBU, not when I served under him when I was still doing field work regularly, not when I stood up to him at the chūnin exam nominations. But the other night, he—”

He stops. Shuts his eyes tight, ducks his head. Rikona-sensei nudges the tissue box a little closer. He ignores it.

“I was so scared he was going to hurt himself.”

“Not you?”

“I… yeah, I was a little scared of that. He had molded lightning chakra during his episode. He’d opened the sharingan. He… If he had more control of his body, he could have easily killed me, I think.”

“Iruka, I need you to think very carefully about this,” Rikona-sensei starts, “because you’re my client, and your well-being and safety are paramount to a good mental health recovery. But also because Hatake-san is a former ANBU operative and doesn’t have his own mental health support regiment. So I’m asking you. Do you feel safe around him?”

Iruka shifts in his seat. “If I say no, you’re going to have him admitted, aren’t you?”

“No,” she says. “But I am required to bring such information to the Hokage. She’ll do with that information as she sees fit.”

Iruka thinks—Kakashi had been limp. He’d said it was a flashback, but it really was closer to a dissociation episode from how Iruka looked at it. Yes, all the preparatory signs were there for a raikiri, but if Kakashi couldn’t even lift his hand, had he really been a threat?

But really.

He’d been more worried that the chakra exhaustion wasn’t going to stop the flashback, or the half-formed raikiri. He’d been worried that Kakashi would be forced to bed rest for days over a flashback, instead of a real threat. He’d been worried that Kakashi would lose control of the lightning chakra and shock himself.

“Kakashi is not a danger to me,” Iruka says firmly, “nor to the village.”

Rikona nods. “Your word, Iruka-sensei. If that feeling changes, at any time, there are always ANBU on patrol. Alert them.”

Getting Gai to agree to take Kakashi out for a night is simple—the man nearly starts crying at the chance to spend an evening catching up with his Eternal Rival.

Getting Kakashi to leave him alone for the night to go out with Gai; now that proves relatively difficult. All the way home from the Mission Desk, they bicker about it gently. Iruka doesn’t want to provoke Kakashi. He just wants Kakashi to spend time with someone else.

They’re climbing the stairs up to the apartment. “It’s just one night,” Iruka smiles, looking back over his shoulder.

Kakashi can’t seem to muster up the will to smile back. He’s worriedly glancing out at the village. “But what about—”

“I can feed myself for one night, love,” he says.

“You know that’s not what… what I…”

Iruka turns, takes his hands and kisses them. Softly, “Love, trust my wards. I’m in the village. I’m safe.”

“I know. I just.”

“Go. Have a night. You can walk me to school in the morning, same as always. I won’t leave without you.”

Kakashi sighs, and asks, “Can I kiss you before I go?”

Iruka smirks. “You’d better.”

Kakashi keeps his hands in his pockets while he and Gai walk through the market. Gai is talking about Youth and Evenings and The Warmth of Springtime. Kakashi is looking at the paper lanterns and contemplating ducking into a food stall. He knows Gai will follow him.

Maybe he could use this time away to get Iruka a gift.

But what would he like?

“Kakashi, are you listening?”

“Springtime, Passion, Youth, Maa, Maa,” Kakashi waves him off, “What do you think Iruka would like as a gift?”

“Thinking of your precious person even when you are apart! The love you share is so—”

“Focus, Gai.”

“Why not a simple bouquet? Flowers are always bea—”

“Don’t!” Kakashi snaps. Gai’s mouth shuts fast, and the crowd around them stills for just a moment. He sweats, shakes, and then jumps to the roofs and runs. He can hear Gai keeping pace behind him; that’s fine. He can deal with Gai. He can’t deal with civilians, with all those eyes—

He lands behind the Academy, leans heavily on his knees, and keeps going into the trees. It’s getting dark, but he’s leaving a trail and Gai knows his chakra. He falls into a clearing and slips—oh, this is what Iruka describes as slipping, feeling the world fall away out from underneath him, but he’s not fully gone yet.

“Kakashi!”

He holds himself together, his breath stuttering, the grass wet under his knees; but it's not grass, it’s stone, and it’s not his knees it’s his feet and he’s running and his legs ache and-and,

A hand slaps his cheek.

“Stay with me, Kakashi! Where are you?”

“Cave. Forty-two miles northeast—”

“No, Kakashi. Where are you?”

He looks around. It’s dark. The cave is-was-is dark. He needs-needed the sharingan to see it was so dark. Is. Was?

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“You are safe within the walls of Konohagakure. We are in training field three, behind the Academy.”

The Academy? Iruka.

“Where’s Iruka???”

“He is at home, where you left him. Also safe, behind nigh impenetrable wards and seals only the best fūinjutsu master could hope to break.”

Kakashi looks up. Gai is kneeling in the grass—wet, soft, recently mowed grass—and looking at him with deep concern. His hands hover over Kakashi’s shoulders.

“Kakashi, what happened back there?”

“I… I don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But you must. You can not serve the village in this state.”

“What—What do you want me to say?”

“The truth!” Gai put his massive hands on Kakashi’s shoulders and it’s a relief to have that pressure assuring him that he exists in the here-and-now and not back-then. “I am more than your Rival, am I not?”

“Gai…”

“Am I?”

Kakashi nods, slowly. It hurts to move too fast.

“Then talk to me.” He shifts them both so that they’re laying on their backs in the grass, looking up at the stars. Gai stays right by his side; like he always had been, like he always will. Kakashi breathes more steadily now. Then Gai asks, “How are you?”

“Better than Iruka,” Kakashi mutters.

“See, I am not sure that is true.” Gai hums. “Iruka-sensei, as terrible as this sounds, has experience with this sort of encounter. He has a therapist, a professional trained in methods with which to help him. He has a loving partner who cares for him deeply,” he nudges Kakashi’s shoulder with his own; Kakashi smirks. “He finds fulfillment in his work, which he resumed as soon as he was physically able. And he still speaks with his friends, at least during work hours.”

“I…”

“Love is a wondrous thing, and it fills my heart to see you care so much. But I want to know how you are.”

Someday, he’ll figure out what makes Gai, Gai. Someday, he’ll figure out why Gai makes Kakashi vomit words like nearly no one else. Someday, he’ll figure out why he and Gai were never romantically compatible.

Tonight, he talks.

He tells Gai about not being fast enough. About hearing Sato calling Iruka… that. About seeing Iruka in that horrible position, with Sato over him. About having Iruka repeat, over and over, “You came,” like he’d given up.

About how he failed Iruka.

He’s had to come to terms with not being fast enough to save someone before. He visits them at the Stone. But Iruka.

“Gai, I still look at him every day and I-I see him there, with the-the ropes around his neck and Sato ready to… to…”

“You feel guilty.”

“How can he even trust me anymore?!”

“Iruka-sensei never lost faith in Konoha, and so never lost faith in you.”

“And he managed to get out of all of that without a new trigger—he has so many, Gai, it’s horrible, I swear if I ever get the chance to kill that fucker I’m going to do it—”

“Mizuki?”

Kakashi growls. “Let’s not get into that tonight.”

“Understood.”

“But he. He was so worried he wasn’t going to be able to hear the words pet or pretty again without,” Kakashi makes a vague gesture. Gai nods for him to continue. “But he did. He’s so strong and he made it through. He tested it with his therapist a week after he came home, and again that night when I brought him back to his apartment.”

“That is great news, Kakashi.”

“And then there’s me. Who didn’t go through any of what he did, who doesn’t have any of that trauma, and here I am—the one with the trigger word from this experience.”

Gai leans up on his elbow and looks down at Kakashi thoughtfully. “Can you tell me what it is? So I know not to say it in your presence.”

Kakashi swallows. Deep breath. Grits his teeth… tries… “No. I… no. Um. Oh, shit.”

He rolls to his knees and crawls away, shoves his mask down to his throat, and throws up.

Gai walks him home, long after midnight. He tries going back to the jōnin barracks, but Gai insists that he not be alone tonight. He can either go home with Gai, or go back to Iruka’s.

Simple choice, really.

He knocks on Iruka’s door. If Iruka’s still awake, he’ll stay here. If not, he’ll crash at Gai’s for an hour or so until he can sneak back to his own place.

The wards’ hums slow to a stop, the door unlocks, and then opens. Iruka is dressed for bed, his hair down and braided, and he smiles when he sees Kakashi. “You didn’t need to knock,” he says.

“I really did,” Kakashi says. “It’s been a rough night.”

Iruka’s smile fades, and he looks over Kakashi’s shoulder to Gai. Gai must make some comforting gesture, because Iruka sags, and reaches out for Kakashi’s hands. “Well, come on. It’s late. Thank you, Gai-sensei, for taking him out for the evening, and for bringing him home.”

“You do not need to thank me for spending time with my dear Rival,” Gai says. He places a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder and rubs his back with his thumb. “It was pleasant, getting to catch up. We must do it again sometime. Perhaps a weekly sparring session would do us both good?”

Kakashi nods, still in a daze. He hasn’t quite… returned to himself, he supposes.

Iruka pulls him inside. “Good night, Gai-sensei.”

“Good night, Iruka-sensei, Kakashi.”

Kakashi lifts a hand in a half-wave.

Iruka gets him inside and sits him down on the step of the genkan. He helps him out of his sandals, wrappings, and flak vest. “Love?”

“I’m alright,” he says automatically.

“You don’t seem alright.”

“I talked with Gai.”

“Obviously. You were out together all night, I should hope you talked.”

“No. I… I told him. About. About Sato. I’m sorry.”

But Iruka smiles, the look soft and calming. He takes Kakashi’s hands, kisses his fingers, and slips his gloves off. Then, he pulls Kakashi to stand back up and leads him through the apartment.

“I was hoping that you would confide in a friend,” Iruka says. “I know… Kakashi, this guilt you’re feeling, it’s killing you.”

“It’s—”

Iruka sits him on the bed and slides off his hitai-ate. Kakashi’s arms go instinctively around Iruka’s waist as he steps in between Kakashi’s knees.

“It’s not healthy. A bit of guilt, for what you saw, for not being there sooner? I can understand that. But love, I’m okay. I got through it with minimal injuries and next to no backfall on my mental health.”

“I know.”

“I’m worried about you.” Iruka pets his hair and Kakashi leans his temple against Iruka’s chest.

“You were hurt,” Kakashi mutters. “I just—”

“You came at probably the worst possible time of that entire situation,” Iruka says. “You saw something horrible, and you heard someone demean me in a way you likely have never experienced before. My love,” Iruka cups his jaw and tips his chin up so they’re looking eye-to-eye, “anyone could have come out of that kind of situation with a bit of trauma. Yours is just manifesting in a physical way, and we have to work with that.”

“But—”

“My Kakashi,” Iruka says sternly. “You were hurt. Just because your scars from this event aren’t physical doesn’t mean they aren’t real.”

Iruka lets him go, and he presses his face back into Iruka’s chest the second he’s able. He groans. “Why do you call me that when you know it makes me all… I don’t know… gooey, inside?”

“Hmm?” Iruka continues petting his hair. “Call you what? My Kakashi?”

He nuzzles Iruka and groans deeper, feeling the fuzzy, tingly feeling from earlier in the night fade away. “Definitely not,” he lies.

“No?” Iruka pulls away enough to tap at his hitai-ate and mask, which is enough of a signal for bedtime as it is for remove these please. “What do I call you that makes you gooey then? Love?”

The hitai-ate makes a clink as it hits the floor.

“Dearest?”

Kakashi shrugs off his shirt and mask. It hits the hamper near the closet.

“Darling?”

He strips Iruka of his yukata, letting it fall to the floor.

“Love of my life?”

“If you don’t lay down with me, I’m going back to the kotatsu,” Kakashi growls. He wraps his arms tight around Iruka’s waist, and falls back and to the side to land on the pillows.

Iruka laughs as they fall. He gently strokes a finger down Kakashi’s bare face and asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Of course.” Kakashi lets Iruka come to him, kissing him gently and carefully. It’s odd, being the one handled like glass. Odd, but sweet. Nice.

“I know you had an emotional evening,” Iruka says against his lips. “But I’m really excited about this and I want to tell you about it. I can wait until morning if you need to, though.”

“I would love nothing more than for you to tell me about this exciting thing, Love,” Kakashi drawls. He yawns right after, which kills the intent behind his words, but Iruka just laughs and goes forward with telling him anyway.

“So. I’ve been talking with Rikona-sensei about my triggers. And, yes, many of them are auditory, but I’ve also got quite a few visual triggers.”

“Which is why if we do anything seriously sexual we go to my place,” Kakashi adds, following along.

“Right! So, Rikona-sensei gave me a collection of apartments that are for rent right now and—”

“You’re going to move?” Kakashi perked up, suddenly awake.

Iruka nods. “I want to move. Mizuki—he spent so much time in this place, in this room, and I… I’ve tried making new memories to fit over the old ones and it’s not working. So I sent out applications tonight and hopefully by the weekend I’ll have letters back saying which apartments I can go see.” He’s grinning ear to ear, blinding Kakashi with the force of it. “One of the places is actually a small house, with a yard. If I can get it, that’s the one I want. I’m hoping Naruto likes it. And I—I want you to come see the apartments with me.”

Kakashi blinks. “What?”

“I’m not-not asking you to look at apartments with me, like, ‘let’s get a place together and move in’ kind of looking!” Iruka hastens to clarify. He rubs at the bridge of his nose with one finger, a nervous habit—one the cuter ones he has. “I just... before I sign any paperwork. I… I love you, and I value your opinion. So. I want you there. If you… want. To be.”

If it were possible, Kakashi would pull Iruka closer. As it is, they’re already chest to chest, so Kakashi settles for nuzzling Iruka’s hair and pressing kisses on his forehead, and down to his eyelids and nose and cheek.

“I will be wherever you want me to be.”

Iruka kisses him again and leans against his shoulder. “Right now, this is where I want you.”

“How convenient. That’s where I want to be too.”

They both laugh, and Iruka nudges him in the side. “No Icha Icha lines.”

#whumpmasinjuly #support #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #kakairu #my writing

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frogsmulder · 3 years

Text

The Seeds of Us

@baronessblixen I actually wrote it! although I’m not sure I quite did it justice; set just after they move into the unremarkable house; about 1300 words; rated t; also tagging @today-in-fic

It was early March and the fresh warmth of the sun on the springtime flowers was equaled by the warmth of Scully wrapped up to her nose under the duvet. The tip of it twitched against the cover and her eyes fluttered, waking up. Everything was soft. It had been almost two years since she had woken up in a comfortable bed and she didn't want to get up just yet. So, she snuggled further under the covers, her hair was fanning out across the pillows in a scruffy mess that retained the memory of hands scrunching through it the previous night.

She quietly hummed, "home," still not quite believing it, and smiled.

It was then that she heard movement downstairs and some old music pump through loudspeakers. Heavy guitar chords and drum beats flood the house, sound waves crashing only slightly muffled into the bedroom. Scully sat up, bemused. The sounds were quickly followed by Mulder's voice resonating through the walls.

"Da Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Nah! Brrp Brrp Brrp! Da Na Na Na..."

She had to bite her lip to stifle a chuckle.

Pulling on Mulder's t-shirt from yesterday that was strewn on the floor, Scully made her way downstairs. She was greeted by Mulder and the vacuum cleaner humming along to Should I Stay or Should I Go as they swept their way around the kitchen. Quietly laughing to herself, she held back for a while, watching him dance about barefoot in jeans and a t-shirt. She tilted her head to the side, admiring the view. He did look good in jeans.

Mulder abruptly turned around and she caught herself irrationally blushing.

"Oh hey!" he beamed and switched of the hoover. "Sorry, I was unpacking some of the boxes, and there was some mess, and I found a box with all your music in and... Did I wake you?"

Scully smiled and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "No, it's good."

He cupped his hands over hers on his rough cheeks and sighed. She understood completely what he was saying. It was strange finally living together, owning a house together, doing the things that normal people did after all this time. She frequently caught herself pausing in the moment to appreciate the sublime gravitas of normality. It was utterly, intoxicatingly thrilling.

She grinned. "I know."

Mulder laughed and nipped at her– his– t-shirt neckline, teeth scraping just inches from her skin. Scully erupted in a burst of small giggles that crescendoed when he lifted her up. She slapped his back to put her down and he did so, but on the countertop, and kissed her cheek.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, breathing, "I'll get you back."

"I look forward to it," he chuckled.

His hands rested on her bare thighs, thumbs drawing circles higher and teasingly higher until he reached the hem of his shirt, which admittedly on her was not that high. She could tell from his eyes, intently focused on hers, that he was unaware that his hands were making a journey, that he just needed her close and the physical evidence at his fingertips to prove it. He looked at her quizzically like she was a fresh mystery, more brilliant than anything they had seen before, forming a question in his mind.

She shifted involuntarily beneath his touch and raised her eyebrows, prompting him.

"I have to ask," he eventually said, resting his hands on the dip of her waist. "The Clash? It doesn't seem like your thing."

She frowned at him. "What would be my thing?"

He shrugged. "Bach? Mendelssohn? ABBA?"

Bowing her head, she huffed a laugh. "I was going through a phase."

"A phase?"

Mulder lifted her chin with his finger, wanting to see every moment of her revelation.

"I guess you could call it that."

"And this phase included punk rock?"

She bit her lip. "No. Well, yes. Sort of. It was my first year of college..."

"Ahhh." Mulder grinned in recognition, eyes widening, gleaming with curiosity. She could feel herself heating up under his gaze. "Was this phase perhaps one of rebellion? Sex, drugs, and Rock n Roll?"

"Tell me you didn't have a similar phase."

He paused, thinking back to his years at Oxford.

"Exactly," she smirked.

"Okay, fair enough–" he stepped closer between her legs– "but I'm still intrigued by this young, punk Dana. Who was she?"

Scully picked some imaginary lint off of his chest– her need to touch him as equal to his, creating any old excuse to do so whilst her mind wandered back.

"Well, she still did her essays before she went out, but she also used to back-comb her hair and have a belly ring. I even saved my waitressing tips to buy a leather jacket."

Mulder mock gasped at the shape her unruly behaviour formed, the distinctive mark to rebel within the confines of a safe structure entirely and purely the Scully he knew. It was like seeing the seed of the woman she was today grow in the rich soil of all those past choices.

She gave him a shy smile. "You know, it wasn't much, but it felt like a lot at the time."

Mulder captured her soft lips tenderly, smiling against them when she gasped. She laughed at the surprise but pulled him closer, locking her ankles together behind his back. Her hand held his cheek when she pulled away, keeping him close as their foreheads continued to kissed where their lips had broken apart.

"What about young, rebellious Mulder? What was he up to?"

"Nothing nearly as exciting. I still did the club scene, but I was better at getting warnings for trespassing."

Scully rolled her eyes, drawing closer to him until she was pressing her lips chastely to his, just to feel them. She gently let go and rested her head against his chest, chuckling.

"I had a friend that this song reminds me of. I used to sit in her room and listen to this album, sharing cigarettes and dancing."

"Is that why you bought this record?"

"No, this is the actual record." Scully shook her head and couldn't help but smile. "She gave it to me when we graduated."

"She must have really liked you."

"Hmm... Isn't it strange how far we've grown apart from our old selves? All the people we've left behind? Jane probably has a family now and I only know a 20-year-old version of her from college."

"Jane? Her name was Jane?"

She pulled back, eyeing him defensively. "What's wrong with that?"

He laughed and shook his head, softening her brow with his response.

"I do know what you mean. But I don't think that changing is necessarily a bad thing." Mulder pressed his forehead to hers and moved one hand from her waist to curl around her small hand. "We are constantly evolving and that's the beauty of it."

He slowly closed his eyes, not wanting to miss a moment of Scully, knowing that this version of her was also a seedling, slowly maturing into a future Scully, and she had chosen him as her witness of that life journey. But the completeness of the moment, her in his arms in their house, was contently overwhelming.

Scully's eyes fluttered closed too and she hummed off-key to the music.

"Mulder, are you slow dancing me to The Clash?"

He grinned, eyes snapping open to see her smiling too.

"Wanna stop?"

She opened her eyes and saw everything in his.

"No."

#I have an addiction to writing about smiles and warmth #It seems to be a reoccurring theme #msr #dana scully #fox mulder #the x files #my fic #xf fanfic

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lunatens · 3 years

Text

scaredy cats

requested by bea (🌱✨anon) tysm bby!! i’m sorry this took so long, i made it a lil longer to make up for it :>

prompt: “uh...did the power just go out?”

*part of my 2 years with luna event!

word count: 2.2k

genre: fluff, high school au, childhood friends to lovers

pairing: lee chan x gn reader

warnings: there’s a thunderstorm and the power goes out!

[you: channieeeee pls come over~]

[chan: y??]

[you: do u rlly need a reason lmao i just wanna see my bestie]

[chan: it’s raining thoooooo]

[you: so? use an umbrella it ain’t a far walk]

[chan: okok i’ll come hang out]

[chan: i’m gonna kick ur ass at super mario party tho]

[you: in your dreams ;) see u soon bby!!]

slipping your phone into your pocket, you roll off your bed and excitedly rush to your front window, pulling the blinds aside so you can have a better view of the street outside. chan wasn’t kidding, it’s raining alright—heavy torrents of rain pour from the sky, and the clouds look a bit too dark for your liking. you bite your lip guiltily, feeling a little bad that chan’s walking here in this weather. at least he only lives a block over, you think to make yourself feel better.

chan’s been your best friend ever since he accidentally hit you in the face with a frisbee way back when you were just ten years old. your nose started bleeding, and chan panicked and tried to comfort you as he went with you to get cleaned up. even when the school nurse tried to send him back outside, he refused to leave until he knew you were okay. you tease him about this all the time, laughing at how overdramatic he was (”it was just a little nose bleed, chan” “okay but you were crying!!”) but you’re grateful for it, as you probably wouldn’t have become friends otherwise.

you smile to yourself as you think back fondly on the memories of your childhood with chan; it won’t be long till you’re both graduating high school, and it’s hard to believe it’s been so many years since that fateful frisbee incident. you can’t help but nervously wonder what the future will bring for you and chan, but you push those thoughts aside when you see a figure running down the street trying to cover his head as he sprints through the puddles. he slows down as he reaches your house, jogging up to your front door. not even giving him the chance to knock, you open the door for chan and usher him inside quickly.

“it’s a little wet out there,” he comments sarcastically, and a distant clap of thunder echoes through the sky as if to emphasize his point. you quickly shut the door and lock it, as if that’ll do something to keep the storm at bay.

“yeah, no kidding, you’re dripping all over the floor,” you comment. chan pulls of his drenched shoes and opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off before he can start.

“i’ll go get you some dry clothes, stay here so you don’t get the entire house wet,” you tell him as you rush to your room to search for something chan can wear. you find a couple of his sweaters lying around, one he forgot here just last week and the other one from god knows when. you decide to keep the more recent one and give chan the older one along with a pair of your sweatpants and some warm socks.

“here, catch,” you say as you throw the clothes towards chan, who’s now standing in a large puddle in your doorway. he’s caught off guard, and the clothes hit him square in the face.

“hey!!! i come all the way over here through a thunderstorm to see you just because you’re bored, and this is the thanks i get?” chan complains as he makes his way to your room to get changed.

“oh come on, i know you were just as bored as i was,” you tease, and chan can’t help but smile when you call him out.

“you got me,” he responds before slipping into your room and closing the door behind him. you proceed to hook up your nintendo switch to the tv, preparing for a night of video games and maybe a movie or two. as you connect the cables, you hear your bedroom door open and chan’s soft footsteps as he goes to throw his clothes in the dryer. he returns to the living room, flopping onto the couch and grabbing a controller.

“what do you want for dinner? my parents are away for the weekend so there’s frozen pizza or….some sort of leftovers i think?” you ask chan, making your way to the kitchen.

“you’re not gonna cook for me?” chan teases, knowing you sometimes struggle to make toast. you give him a look before digging the pizza out of the freezer. you preheat the oven and place the pizza on a tray.

“don’t forget to take the plastic off!” chan calls from the couch.

“i know, chan,” you say, but you’re glad he reminded you; that was a close one.

two hours and a slightly overcooked frozen pizza later, you and chan are yelling at the screen as your characters pummel each other in a heated round of super smash bros. it’s still heavily raining, but the sounds of the tv drown out the steady drumming on the roof and the increasingly loud and frequent thunder. the two of you hardly notice the flashes of lightning in the now-dark sky as you focus on the tv. you’re just about to smash chan’s character to oblivion when all of a sudden everything is pitch black and a blanket of dead silence washes over the house, save for the rain on the roof.

“uh...did the power just go out?” chan asks, the two of you sitting frozen on the couch. you turn your head to look at him, although there’s really no point--you can’t see anything.

“hm, yeah i think it did,” you say. you’re trying to tease him, but you can’t hide the fear wavering in your voice.

“where are you?” chan asks, voice equally fearful, and you reach out to feel for his outstretched hands in the dark. you find them, and the two of you grab onto each other and pull each other close. the room feels so empty without the bright lights from the tv and the chaotic yelling over the sounds of the game onscreen. now, there’s only the rain, louder than ever, although you swear you can hear your heartbeat out loud.

“i think we have some candles in the basement,” you whisper.

“noooooope, you’re crazy if you think i’m going down there; it’s scary even when the lights are on,” chan replies and you feel him shake his head. “what about that scented candle i gave you for your birthday?”

“ooh, good call! it’s in my room,” you remember. “let’s go,” you say, pulling out your phone to use as a flashlight. lightning outside lights up the room for a moment, and not too long after there’s a loud clap of thunder. both you and chan let out a small shriek, feeling your grips on each other tighten. now, is your heart beating from fear of the dark and stormy night? or from the way chan holds onto you for dear life? probably a mix of both, but you choose not to think about that right now.

“ok we’ll go on three, ready?” you say, waiting for chan’s response. you’re met with silence. “chan?”

“oh sorry, i forgot you can’t see me nodding. on three,” he confirms

“okay, one, two...three!” you count. on three, you pull chan off the couch and the two of you race hand in hand to your bedroom, guided by the bright light of your phone flashlight. you hesitantly let go of chan’s hand as you search for your candle and some matches. it doesn’t take too long to find them, and soon enough a flickering orange flame casts a faint flow around your room. you and chan climb onto your bed, you sitting up against the headboard and chan lying with his head in your lap. there’s enough light that you can now see each other’s silhouettes at least, and you look down to watch as the flame casts shadows that seem to dance across chan’s face. when did he grow up so much? you find yourself thinking, feeling like it was just yesterday the two of you were a couple of snot-nosed kids running around at recess. your fingers absentmindedly play with his hair as you’re lost in thought.

“this is kind of spooky, we should tell ghost stories!” chan suggests.

“or we could just talk and not scare ourselves into staying awake all night,” you reply.

“good idea,” he agrees, but neither of you say anything. you lie there in silence for a moment; the rain sounds a bit less violent from inside your room, and now that you can see a bit you find it’s quite a peaceful sound.

“mingyu asked me out today,” you tell chan. you’re not quite sure what possessed you to just tell him that out of the blue; you weren’t even planning on telling chan at all, but now you’ve gone and said it and you can’t take it back.

“really?? that’s great, y/n! when’s the date?”

you’re a bit disheartened at chan’s reaction; he seems genuinely excited for you, unless the shock is just masking his true feelings for now,

“i said no.”

“what?? why??? i thought you liked him?” chan sits up at this, his head now even with yours as he looks at you in shock.

“not anymore,” you say with a shrug. your voice is quiet, unsure of where this conversation will head.

“oh,” is all chan says. “is there...any particular reason?” he asks after a beat of silence. there’s something more in his voice now that wasn’t there before.

“i just don’t think he’s really my type,” you explain without elaborating.

“well, what is your type if not mingyu? he’s kind, smart, beautiful, tall...he’s got it all! i mean, you’ve had a crush on him for like, a year, and he finally asked you out and you said no?” chan says in mild disbelief.

“don’t get me wrong, mingyu’s a great guy and all, but i just-i think i realized i have feelings for someone else,” you say, voice trailing off to barely a whisper.

“really?? who is it?” chan asks all-too-eagerly, and you start to feel doubtful he likes you back.

“it’s no one.”

“awe y/n, don’t be like that! at least give me hints?” chan asks.

“fine,” you sigh, knowing he won’t leave it alone. “first of all, he’s annoying and loud,”

“that doesn’t sound like a crus-”

“do you want me to give you hints or not?”

“...yes please,”

“ok then shh. he’s annoying and loud, but it’s perfect because i am too so we get along really well. he’s also the most caring person i’ve ever met; i know he’d do anything for me if i asked him,” you continue, not sure how much you want to give away.

“wow, he sounds really great!” chan comments. to any other person, he’d sound excited for you, but you know him well enough to pick up on the slight disappointment in his voice, and it’s just the boost you need to keep going.

“he is; he’d even go out in a thunderstorm for me just because i said i’m bored,” you say and you turn to look at chan now. it’s too dark to read his expression, but you can see how he leans ever so closer to you.

“now that’s some dedication, i mean he sounds flawless,” chan teases. you can hear the smile in his voice, which makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

“the only problem is i’m not sure if he likes me back,” you whisper, your nose brushing the tip of chan’s, and before you know it his lips are on yours in a passionate yet gentle kiss. how you’ve gone so long without kissing chan you don’t know; the years of secret feelings all finally set free in this one kiss.

you didn’t lie about liking mingyu--you had actually thought you might’ve finally gotten over your feelings for chan and found someone else. for a couple of months it worked, and you found yourself distracted with thoughts of the tall boy instead of your best friend. but it all came crashing down when you caught the common cold the other week, and chan looked after you while you were sick--he even skipped class one day to make sure you weren’t lonely. all of your true feelings came rushing back to you, and you knew there were no hopes of losing them.

“what about now?” chan asks as he pulls away just enough to talk.

“i’m still not sure, he might have to kiss me again to convince me,” you say, unable to contain your smile. chan kisses you again, and it’s just as magical as the first time. a loud crack of thunder startles you, and you gasp as you latch onto chan, burying your face in his shoulder.

“you’re such a scaredy-cat,” he says, bringing his arms up to pull you closer.

“shut up so are you, i can hear your heart racing,” your voice is muffled by his sweater.

“maybe that’s just because of you,” he comments, stroking your hair.

“ew,” you reply, but your heart’s not in it; you can pretend to hate how cheesy chan is all you want, but internally you love it just as much as you love every other aspect of him.

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sapphiewritesandstuff · 4 years

Text

Long Awaited

Pairing: Hanako x F!Reader, slight Nene x F!Reader Warnings: Slight spice (nothing NSFW tho) Word Count: 2,170 I wrote this 2-3 months (?) ago, but never finished. I revamped it and finished it to keep you guys entertained while I work on the Teru + Kou x Reader content <3

The sound of the bell signaling the end of your last class sounded, prompting everyone to rush out of the class as quickly as humanly possible, all the while creating a solid wall of human that is virtually impossible to pass through.

“What’s gotten into them?” You muttered, raising an eyebrow at your classmates' antics. The blonde boy besides you paused in his rambling, brows furrowing as he too noticed the flood of human bodies between them and the door.

“Oh no,” Kou groaned, slapping a hand to his face in a gesture that suggests helpless frustration. “What’s wrong?” You asked, amused at Kou’s dramatic display.

“We were late yesterday and Hanako threatened to—” he wiggled his fingers with a menacing face that looked nothing like the amber-eyed apparition, “do things to Yashiro.”

You sweatdropped, giggling at Kou’s panic. “Don’t worry, we can exorcise him together if he tries anything.” Your tone dropped at the end of your sentence, eyes darkening a tad. It was Kou’s turn to sweatdrop.

Seeing that the people by the door had lessened a considerable amount, he grabbed your arm, pulling you out the door at a brisk pace. “Come on, (Name)-san!”

---

The two of you stopped, panting as you reached the entrance of the girl’s bathroom.

“Hanako-kun!” You declared, kicking open the door. “If you touch one hair on Nene-senpai—” The sight that greeted you left you speechless.

Your radish friend knelt with her back towards the mirrors, a hand held to her head with a confused expression on her face. Hanako, on the other hand, sat collapsed across from her, hands clutching at his face.

“Nene-senpai?!” You exclaimed, rushing over to Nene’s side, cupping her cheeks gently. Her amber eyes widened with surprise, a slight flush visible on the apples of her cheeks.

Kou rushed to Hanako’s side, hauling him up by his collar. “Oi, Hanako! What did you do to Senpai?!” Hanako let out an uncharacterized squeak of surprise, ruby eyes widening.

“Wha-What?” Hanako asked, eyes darting around the room. “Hanako-kun? What do you mean, I—” Before she could finish, Nene interrupted quickly, pulling you to her chest in one smooth motion.

“Hanako-kun! Are you okay? When that apparition came, I was so scared…” She sobbed, but ‘Hanako’ caught a smug glint in ‘Nene’s’ eyes.

He sighed internally. Why did I even get myself into this?

A few minutes prior…

“Hey, Yashiro.” Nene looked up from her work to give Hanako a look of distrust. “I know that voice, Hanako-kun. Whatever you’re trying to rope me into, it’s not going to happen.”

Hanako pouted, giving Nene his best look of utter devastation. “You haven’t even heard what I was going to say yet~”

Nene eyed him warily, taking a step back for good measures. Hanako floated a pace closer, amber eyes practically sparkling. “Pleeaase~? Just hear me out.”

The ombre haired girl sighed, lifting a hand to her face. No, Nene. Don’t fall for his tricks— “Fine. I suppose I could listen.” What are you doing? Refuse before he could go on!

“Well…” Hanako trailed off, scratching his cheek sheepishly. “You know about my, uh, fondness for (Name), right?” Nene paused for a second, mind swirling with thoughts.

This is perfect blackmail material! Hanako-kun, you’re going to regret all those times you teased me about my legs.

She hummed smugly, giving the ghost a knowing smirk. “Oh, it was obvious. Except (Name)-chan seems to always reject you~”

Ouch, she hits hard. Hanako winced, chuckling awkwardly. “About that—” Before he could finish, a thud could be heard by the window. A moment after, the window snapped open, and smoke poured into the room.

Hanako’s head snapped up, thoughts of you momentarily put off as he drew his knife and summoned Hakujoudai. “Who’s there?!”

No one replied, but the smoke kept creeping towards them. “Yashiro! Don’t breathe in the smoke,” he started, but trailed off when Nene’s unconscious form slumped onto the floor behind him. He cursed under his breath, kneeling down besides her.

“Yashiro!”

---

Yes. The smoke had caused the two to switch bodies. Which, in turn, translated to the current events to unfold as the real Hanako and fake Nene hugged you closer to her. She even managed to shed a few real tears, hoping you would comfort her the way you usually comforted the real Nene.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, tugging ‘Nene’ forward to give her a hug, to which she responded with another sob. ‘Hanako’ shot a glare at ‘Nene’, which prompted Kou to ask, “Er, Hanako, are you okay?” ‘Hanako’ sighed, annoyed at having to act like the annoying, and on top of that, perverted spirit.

“I’m fine,” he replied flatly. He scowled, debating whether he should bail out on the apparition, until a sudden idea popped up in his mind. It was now ‘Hanako’s’ turn to smirk.

“Hey, Yashiro,” ‘Hanako’ started, strolling towards the two still embracing on the floor. “You’ve been clinging to (Name) for quite a while now~” he made sure to add the little sing-song tone Hanako often used when teasing them.

‘Nene’ gave him a glare to which he responded with a smug smirk. Have a taste of your own medicine, Hanako-kun!

You stood up, ignoring ‘Hanako’s’ comment and giving your friend an encouraging smile. “Just ignore him, Nene-senpai.”

‘Nene’ nodded, still half-glaring at her real body.

Gotta step up your game, Hanako-kun. The real Nene thought, sticking out her tongue at ‘Nene’.

‘Nene’ gave ‘Hanako’ a forced smile and casually pinned you against the wall, effectively trapping (and confusing) you. She twirled a strand of her long, cream colored hair around a finger while her other hands kept yours against the wall.

“Ne, (Name)-chan,” she started, giving you a look that can only be described as sultry. “Don’t you think my lips are a little dry today~?”

You gave her a look of confusion, eyeing the hand trapping your wrists above you. “Um, I guess? They do look a little chapped.”

The amber-eyed girl leaned closer to you, lips dangerously close to your own. “Why don’t you help me moisturize them a bit?” She purred.

‘Hanako’ sidled up beside you, slipping a finger under your chin and bringing it towards him, ruby eyes gazing into yours under half-lidded eyes. “Now, now, Yashiro,” he purred, “Don’t be such a dirty radish~”

Internally, the real Nene cringed at her own words. I can’t believe I just said that about myself. But her determination to outdo Hanako in this contest of… whatever this was overwhelmed her sense of shame and embarrassment.

In the real Hanako’s mind, he was currently cursing Nene, glaring at her the best he could while still maintaining the mood.

Meanwhile, Kou stared at the trio from his position by the door. He stared, not exactly sure what he was looking at. He decided to speak out, seeing the evident confusion and discomfort on your face.

“Uh, Hanako, Senpai. I think (Name)-san needs her space.” Nene, remembering that she was currently supposed to be Hanako, spoke up, waving a hand dismissively and trying her best to make Hanako look bad when they returned to their real bodies. “Butt out, kid. Can’t you see I’m trying to tease my dear little (Name)-chan here?”

‘Nene’ pulled you away from ‘Hanako’, wrapping her arms smugly around your form and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Stay away from (Name)-chan, you pervert!”

The real Nene irked, eye twitching at how hypocritical this was. You’re the real pervert here!

Instead, he pouted, grabbing one of your hands and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. “I’m the pervert? Says the naughty radish with the wandering h-a-n-d-s~”

Sure enough, one of ‘Nene’s’ hands had wandered up right below your chest. Blushing bright red, you struggled out of the amber-eyed girl’s arms, spinning around to face them.

“What is wrong with you today, Senpai?” You asked, arms held protectively over your chest area. ‘Nene’ shrugged, sliding her hands into her skirt pockets. “Whatever do you mean, (Name)-chan?”

You squinted at her cautiously. It was still Nene’s sweet voice and her small frame, yet somehow, she managed to pin you to a wall with seemingly no effort. Processing the information, your heart jumped and your flaming scarlet cheeks darkened a tone.

Arms surrounded you gently and you were pulled into yet another embrace, although this time it was more warm and friendly than flirtatious. Hanako’s voice whispered by your left ear, “I’ll protect you, (Name)-chan.”

As much as Nene had wanted it to sound like she was Hanako, she also genuinely wanted to protect you from getting hurt, so her words had no qualities of playfulness to them.

You gazed back at her as she said those words, eyes glistening and lips slightly agape. “Hanako-kun…”

‘Nene’ gritted her teeth. She wanted to shout at the real Nene, to remind her, you’re supposed to be helping me. But with the starstruck look you had in your eyes, the real Hanako felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He wanted you to look at him like that, not Yashiro in his body!

‘Nene’ slowly relaxed her jaws, letting her pursed lips melt into a dark smirk.

“If you’re so determined to brand me as the villain…” She started towards the two, honey toned eyes darkening, “Then, I’ll play the role of the bad boy~”

Shoving you onto the bathroom floor, she smirked at your widened eyes and once again pinned your wrists to the floor, successfully straddling you.

“Ne-Nene-senpai—” Holding her finger to your lips, she shushed you. Despite that, you continued to speak, panic evident in your dilated pupils, “What are you doing?!”

‘Nene’ narrowed her eyes, reaching out to swipe her thumb across your bottom lip.

“Shhhh, (Name)-chan,” she murmured, leaning down closer to you, long hair brushing your cheeks. “If you can’t learn to be quiet, then maybe I’ll have to seal your lips for you~”

Closing the distance between the two of you, her lips brushed against yours.

Right before Kou hauled her up by the collar of her uniform. “S-Senpai. I don't know what's wrong with you today, but that’s enough.”

Having been discovered, Hanako tried to play it cool. “Kou-kun?” He used Nene’s large, watery ruby eyes to his advantage, watching as the blonde exorcist’s face turned red as he released the apparition.

Sitting up from the floor, you groaned, wiping a hand over your face. “Wow, Hanako-kun. I knew you were a pervert but I never thought you’d actually take it that far.”

Kou’s eyes widened. “That’s Hanako?” He asked, jabbing a finger at Nene’s form. You nodded, dusting off your skirt as you stood up to stand beside the real Nene, who was currently residing in Hanako’s body.

The blue-eyed boy once again plucked ‘Nene’ up from her position on the floor. “Wait. You’re Hanako?!” ‘Nene’ stuck out her tongue at him, rolling her amber eyes at him mockingly. “You’re stupid to not have noticed earlier, kid.”

Kou froze, looking over at ‘Hanako’ who gave him a sheepish wave. “So… That’s really Senpai?” You once again gave a nod of confirmation, slightly sullen. The real Nene gave you a comforting pat on the back.

“That means… you blackmailed Senpai into helping you harass (Name)-chan!”

Just as the blonde exorcist finished his declaration, a puff of smoke surrounded the two, and moments later, Kou held not Nene, but Hanako by the scruff of his black gakuran.

Before anyone could say anything, Nene clutched at her cheeks with a sudden gasp, eyes shining with panic. “Ah, Hanako-kun!” She cried, sending a deadly glare towards the amber-eyed ghost. “You almost stole my first kiss!”

At her accusation, Kou released Hanako, who dropped to the floor with a wince, also giving the toilet ghost a disapproving glare. “Explain yourself, Hanako.”

Hanako shrugged lightly, floating up to face the three of you. “Weeelllll,” he drawled, edging closer to you.

You shot him an unimpressed look, but didn’t move away as Hanako latched on to your shoulders, hiding behind you like a nervous child. “It’s fine Kou, I don’t really mind what he did.”

Hanako froze, eyes widening. You didn’t mind his obvious attempt to kiss you? Does that mean- Could that mean-? Your stern voice brought him back to his senses. “But you do have to apologize to Nene-senpai for dragging her into this.”

Sulleningly, the black-haired ghost crept out from behind you, pouting a little. “Sorry, Yashiro~” The cream-haired girl sighed, but acknowledged the apology with a nod.

The four of you were quiet for a few seconds after that, content with the comfortable silence.

Until Hanako’s arm curled around you, pulling you closer to him while simultaneously pulling off his hat in front of your face to prevent Kou and Nene from seeing anything.

And finally, his cold, but soft lips caressed yours, in a kiss that had been long awaited by the both of you.

#hanako x reader #slight #yashiro nene x reader #amane yugi x reader #jibaku shonen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #kou minamoto #hanako kun #yashiro nene

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rebelrainfall · 3 years

Text

you know what they say about absence

ao3 link here

Hey @cassianserso it’s me, your secret santa! I loved your prompt (Jyn and Cassian writing letters to each other), and I had SO much fun with it. I so hope I did it justice!

***

The cold air hits Jyn like a wall as the door to the transport swings open. It may be a good thing - there was barely room to sit down during this last four-hour leg of the return trip and she’s about ready to collapse. Cassian’s not in the hangar, not that she expected him to be, and neither is the U-wing. He must have left already, for what will be his first covert op in almost a year. He was so restless being grounded, hated feeling useless. She’s happy for him.

She’s less happy for herself, not that that’s a thought she has the time or will to explore.

No matter what Solo might say, there’s nothing weird about what she and Cassian are. Since those few, tense weeks after Scarif they’ve become close, and that’s all it is. They share a room because it’s convenient. They’re friends. Partners. And yeah, if someone had told her a year ago her life would be like this she would have been terrified, but things are different now. It’s good. What they have is good. She’s good at soothing that little voice that cries every now and then (more than she’d ever like to admit) for more. What he gives her is more than enough.

Jyn punches the code into the door of their room, ignoring the pounding behind her eyes. She has a day and a half before she’ll have to ship out again and she intends to spend as much of that time as possible asleep. Even the hot water in the ‘fresher isn’t enough to keep her there for a moment longer than necessary.

Cassian is definitely gone. The cot across from hers is neatly made, his least-conspicuous jacket gone from its hook. He’ll be on a mid level of Coruscant by now, if she remembers correctly what he told her.

Her own things are almost entirely the way she left them. Her blankets are half-on, half-off the bed, her vest thrown over the back of the desk chair, but there is something different.

There’s a piece of folded flimsi on her pillow.

There’s no introduction - her name isn’t even on it. But the note is in Cassian’s handwriting.

I was hoping you’d be back before I left and it came so close. If you arrived when you were scheduled to it’ll only have been an eight hour difference. I can’t say when I’ll be back but I think it should be soon.

I heard from Bodhi yesterday. He says to tell you training is going well. He didn’t say as much, but it sounds like things are going well with Skywalker, too.

K wasn’t cleared to come with me for this one and he’s very upset about it, so be advised. He should be having his ocular lenses replaced in Bay 3 if you need him.

Maybe you’ll be around when I get back next time. I guess I’ve gotten used to [word(s) scribbled out] having someone else in the room at night. The silence is strange.

There’s no ending or signature, but she doesn’t need one. Cassian never struck her as one for gestures like this, and that he went out of his way to leave this for her makes her warm in a way she refuses to linger on.

She sleeps twelve hours that night, and ten the next, and in the time between she snatches a sheet of flimsi from a supply closet to return the favour.

I’m sorry I can’t be back to see you. Trafficking rings don’t like to be kept waiting. At least I had two full nights in a proper bed, but you’re right. I miss It is too quiet here alone.

K is a little more charitable now that he can see again. I almost want to say pleasant, but we both know that word doesn’t apply to him. Don’t listen to anything he may tell you - the smoke bomb was his idea.

I’m shipping off again this afternoon to the outer rim, somewhere near Sullust. Pilot says the planet’s almost as cold as here. Bet you had a nice warm room on Coruscant, too bad I can’t stow away with you.

She leaves her note on his pillow and climbs into the shuttle with his in her pocket, like some holo-drama damsel collecting love letters.

Maybe he’ll be here next time she gets back.

II.

He isn’t.

There are signs all over the room that he was here, at some point, since her. Another jacket missing from its hook, an empty mug where she didn’t leave it.

Another note on her pillow.

Just missed you again. We have the worst timing. I’m back on Coruscant, but this next stint is [word(s) scribbled out] delicate. I might be back in a few weeks, but it could be months. I hoped to see you before I left, but you’re right. The war doesn’t wait.

Don’t let it go to your head, but I think I miss you. I still couldn’t bring K and it gets [word(s) scribbled out] boring by myself. K’s still being a grump - keep him company for me, hey? I also heard something about him attempting to create his own language to bother Skywalker’s droid, so I suggest you keep an eye on that.

There’s still no signature, but this time there’s a date. Two weeks ago. Jyn puts the flimsi down with a heavy breath. It could be months. The timing is… not great. She has an unusual stretch of downtime, more than a week, and no one to spend it with. This is the end of what she’d become accustomed to, she realizes. Now that he’s back in the field, Cassian can no longer be a daily fixture in her life. The prospect frightens her more than she cares to consider.

It’s ironic. Never thought I’d be sad to be alone.

Of course it isn’t so lonely as she might have feared. Bodhi is finally back from his flight training, a full-fledged X-wing pilot with the stories and the friends to prove it. He’s come such a long way in the short time she’s known him and his company is refreshing, even if he isn’t the man she finds her mind wandering far too often toward now that he’s gone.

She sleeps fine that week, though the nights are still too quiet. She could never miss the hum of snoring and whispers of the pathfinders at night. But alone, the dark and the quiet are oppressive in their deepness, threatening to swallow her without Cassian’s steady breathing from across the small space. It scares her, how accustomed she’s gotten to having someone else around. To having him around.

Maybe this is for the best, this separation. She hadn’t realized how much she relies on Cassian, his presence, his kindness. It’s a dangerous game, to rely on anyone. She’s always held a savage pride toward her independence, and maybe this reminder is what she needs to get herself back on track.

Maybe.

But when she considers it, life without him seems more frightening even than the weakness of reliance. She doesn’t have to be alone any more. The night before she leaves again she sits at the desk in their quarters writing him another note.

Sorry I can’t be here, tried my best! Since you’re so broken without me. I’m never forgetting that and I’ll make sure you don’t either.

Hope you’re here when I get back. I need Bodhi needs someone else to talk to - you can only hear the same three stories about Luke Skywalker so many times and I hit my limit two days after he got back.

Heading back to the outer rim today. Those traffickers from before are gone so now we’re just cleanup crew. Getting sick of Dameron’s jokes. Not that yours are any better.

Maybe I do miss you

III.

Four time zones on three different planets in the space of a week and Jyn’s circadian rhythm is wrecked. Thane says it’s 0500 local time when they hit atmo and she has to take his word for it because that makes as much sense as anything else.

She doesn’t see many people as she lugs her duffle back toward the barracks. It’s early enough that anyone on a night shift is still working and most of those who start in the morning aren’t awake yet. Madine’s given the crew the full day off, thank the force, and Jyn intends to take full advantage of that fact.

She opens the door and switches on the light before she notices anything different. Someone startles upright on the cot across from hers.

“Shavit, sorry!” She flicks it back off, already halfway to the ‘fresher to turn on that light instead as her pack lands on the floor with a quiet thud.

“No, no, it’s ok. I’m not - I wasn’t asleep.” Cassian’s voice is rough, but alert. “Turn on the light.”

She does, kicking off her boots, before the first thing he said registers. “It’s five in the morning! Why weren’t you asleep?”

He shrugs, squinting at her as his eyes adjust to the light. His hair has gotten longer since she saw him last, long enough now to fall in his face. A little part of her wants to comb it away from his eyes, or maybe tousle the bit by his ears. She shoves the thought away.

“Hi, by the way,” he says, ignoring her question. “Did you just get back?”

“Yeah.” She slumps down on her bed. “And hello to you, too.”

Stars, she’s missed him. Until now she hadn’t realized how much. But now that she’s looking at him… The way he smiles at her, gentle, makes her want little more than to wrap her arms around him. Kiss that gorgeous grin off his face.

Oh.

When did that start?

(A long time ago, not that she means to admit it).

He’s saying something but she missed the beginning, a little distracted.

“Sorry?”

He shakes his head. “You really are tired. I said, meet me for lunch, if you’re awake by then?”

“Sure, I probably will be.” She’ll make sure she is - like she would skip a meal with him after the six weeks they’ve just missed each other. “How long are you back?”

“Technically, I’m still a stand-by agent. So probably a while.

“I have at least a week.” Jyn drags herself back upright and heads towards the ‘fresher. The sooner she gets in the shower, the sooner she can get out and into bed. The hot water is heaven after so long caked in mud, but it still isn’t enough to keep her any longer than necessary. Once she’s out and dressed she sits on the counter to braid her hair, listening to Cassian talk about Coruscant through the open door.

“You should know, my ‘apartment’ sucked. My neighbour in the unit below smoked and it would come up through the vent and I didn’t have any windows. You would have hated it.”

“Wanna bet? I slept in a tree last night. Not a treehouse or even a platform, a hollowed-out tree.”

He huffs a laugh. “Sounds like fun.”

She finishes her hair and turns her attention to the healing gash on her shoulder, opening the cupboard for a square of gauze and a roll of medical tape. She hops down from the counter to pass them to him. “Help me with this?”

“Where?”

“Shoulder. I can’t quite reach it.”

She turns around and pulls down the strap of her tank top to show him. He hisses in sympathy.

“What did you do to yourself?”

“Fight with that stupid tree. It looks worse than it is.”

“Still.”

Settling down on his bed, he guides her to sit in front of him so he can center the gauze over the wound. His hands are gentle smoothing the edge of the tape to her skin. She hopes it’s cold enough that he’ll assume that’s what makes her shiver. He’s so careful - far more than she would have been.

He runs a hand softly up and down her back once it’s in place, and Jyn freezes.

“There,” he murmurs, “All patched up.”

“Thank you,” she says, proud of how steady her voice is. Force, she’s pathetic. He’s her friend. This is nothing new, this touch is not new.

If she were to lean back she would be in his arms.

Not that she’s thinking about that.

They’ve lived together for months. He’s touched her more than this dozens of times. Why is this the gesture to undo her?

Cassian clears his throat and she almost jumps. Kriff, did he notice her sudden nervousness? But then he gestures to the desk and the two cups on it.

“Caf for me, tea for you. Should be cool enough to drink, now.”

Oh, he’s an angel. She stands up to get them and then to sit down on her own cot, grateful to have an excuse to get away from his overwhelming proximity. She passes his mug across to him and takes a sip of hers, and of course it’s her favourite kind.

“Thank you. You’re getting up now?”

“If I get more done this morning I can have a longer break for lunch with you.”

Stars, has he always been this kind?

“Aw,” she deadpans, “It’s like you missed me.”

He flicks his eyes up to hers, then looks down into his own drink.

“I did.”

She focuses on her tea, carefully not looking at him. She can’t feel this way. Not now, not ever. This is Cassian.

“How did the rest of the trip go? Aside from the evil tree.” It’s been quiet for long enough that the question is a surprise. She shrugs. It’s ok, she tells herself. He’s her friend and that’s more than enough. She’ll love him forever for it no matter how else her traitorous heart might behave.

“Boring. Helped Kyrell’s squadron distribute aid for a while, and then we took out the last holdout cell. It was never a huge operation. That ring had maybe a dozen ships.”

“Boring is good.”

“Mm. How about you?”

“A little less boring, but I can’t… it’s classified, sorry.”

She knows he’s not brushing her off. She wishes there was something he could tell her, if only to keep hearing his voice after so long, but she’s used to that answer. So she takes another sip of her tea and tries to remember anything that’s happened. Anything she could say to make him smile.

“How is Kay?” Is what she settles on. “Did he finish that spite-project of his?”

“His language? He did, and Threepio is suitably bothered.”

“Good.”

“What’s better though - the princess caught wind of it and now she’s trying to figure out if we could work it into a code. So all the droids might have to learn it, not just Threepio.”

It was the right topic. Casisian’s lit up as he tells her about this, all the little details he knows. She finishes her tea before she has time to realize it, and her exhaustion really is starting to catch up with her, but it’s not until Cassian stands up that she gives any of that a moment’s thought.

“You should get to bed,” he says, crouching down to fish his clothes out from the drawer under his bed. “You have six hours ‘til lunch and if you’re late I’m not saving you caf.”

“Mean,” she grumbles, pulling her blankets up off the floor and setting an alarm on her datapad while he takes out a towel. She hears Cassian turn on the shower as she lays down. She’s asleep before it shuts off.

Jyn would not consider herself a morning person. Not that it’s truly morning when her alarm goes off at half-after noon, but that’s just a technicality. She tells herself it’s better for her sleep cycle to get up now, and go back to bed at a more normal hour, but really it’s only her plan with Cassian that gets her properly awake.

Alarm still blaring, she reaches under the bed to grab the first set of clothes she can reach. She sits up, stretches, and reaches to turn it off.

And stops.

There’s a piece of flimsi on her datapad.

Confused, she reaches for it. She talked to Cassian only hours ago, and she’ll see him soon, so why would he need to leave her a letter now?

Unless he couldn’t meet her. If he was sent off for another op, if he’s going to be gone for weeks, but no. He’d have woken her if he had to leave. He wouldn’t leave without a goodbye.

She unfolds the note, worried. Something must be wrong.

Jyn, it begins, and that’s new. She likes the way her name looks in his small, tidy writing.

Jyn,

I’m glad you’re home. I really have missed you. So much.

There’s something I want you to know. I never planned to tell you but [word(s) scribbled out] I think I see things a little differently now. I should have waited until I saw you at lunch but I think this may be easier in writing.

I won’t waste time. I love you. You know that already, you must. You mean so much to me and I don’t want to imagine my life without you. But it’s more than that, I’m in love with you. I was never going to bring it up but something this morning [word(s) scribbled out] [word(s) scribbled out]. I can’t explain it.

If I’m right, if you want what I do, forgive me for doing this the coward’s way and let me be yours. If I’m wrong, [word(s) scribbled out] I’m so sorry. Please, please, let me down softly and I’ll never bring this up again. We can forget about it, I’ll get over myself, just let me be in your life. I had to tell you. I love you. I’m sorry.

Jyn stares down at the words on the page.

It doesn’t compute.

Not the first time, barely the second time.

Let me be yours.

Jyn puts the letter down after her fourth time reading it, only to pick it right back up again. She takes a deep breath, forcing her mind into a facsimile of calm and tries to think logically.

Everything she’s hardly realized she wanted. More.

He…

He loves her.

Cassian loves her. And by now he’s probably sitting in the mess wondering if she’ll show up. Assuming the worst, if she knows him at all.

He loves her.

Luckily, there’s something she can do about that.

#cassianserso #rebelcaptainsecretsanta #rebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #my writing #did i learn to write aurebesh specifically for that banner at the top?#maaaaaaybe

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joonkorre · 3 years

Text

its crazy late but

@drarrymicrofic prompt: blanket fort

(there’s no plot. none. just dudes being guys, guys being pals)

(caution: not very micro, more like a one shot. a whole lot of anecdotes. i’m writing this under a blanket with snow beating at my window, so of course this has to be very soft and warm. you have been warned)

“Hello?” Harry says into the dark. He’s just gotten home and instead of seeing the familiar orange hue of their beetle-shaped lamp (a gift from Luna, of course), there’s a single sliver of moonlight slipping through the curtains. Nothing else seems to exist in the living room but the echo of Harry’s greeting. Tangerine and sage drift into his nose, followed by the bitter tang of smoke. The scent of Draco’s favorite candle, newly extinguished.

Draco just left. Discovered a breakthrough in his research and fled to the Ministry lab, maybe.

Harry sighs. Unlaces his boots and hangs up his coat absentmindedly only for it to crumple onto the floor. Another sigh. He bends and retrieves it, deciding instead to throw it in the laundry bin. Might as well; he’s been trudging around in Dayhound mucus for hours and neither his dragonhide boots nor coat were spared.

Walking into the kitchen, Harry grabs a glass from the drying rack and pours himself water from the pitcher in the fridge. It’s ridiculous how a simple act like this can drain his energy so, but it does. Curse breaking isn’t a walk in the park; even walking hurts, considering the amount of magic he expends on shite like a 500-year-old wailing locket on a day to day basis. Exposure to different kinds of magic - dark, Old Magick, elemental, countlessly and endlessly more- for 8 hours straight more often than not result in a fierce ringing in his temples and pinpricks on his skin.

After years of doing it, he can scarcely tolerate one Portkey trip from wherever he’s assigned to back to the main headquarter before getting uncontrollable shivers. Another 30 minutes on the metro, then a 10-minute walk home. In addition, Harry has to sleep for at least 8 hours every night to replenish his energy. Morning comes, he wakes up, Apparates to the headquarter, and the cycle continues.

Why does he even stick with curse breaking at this point? Right, a wry grin graces Harry’s lips, Draco thinks the uniform is hot. Oh, and can’t forget the job benefits, insurance, whole nine yards.

With the glass now rinsed and settled once more on the drying rack, Harry drags his feet to the bedroom. The clock - an antique Draco stole from his cheating ex - hits 7:18 PM, but getting ready to go to sleep sure sounds like a decent idea. Harry palms the back of his aching neck and winces. He’d go shower, scrub the dirt and tension off his limbs, and maybe heat up the leftovers from two days-

“There you are. I was wondering how much longer drinking water could take.”

Harry looks up from his slippered feet to see Draco. Or, more specifically, Draco’s silhouette. Behind some kind of white cloth. A white cloth that’s conveniently placed where the focus of the bedroom should’ve been.

The relief at seeing his husband evaporates.

“What,” Harry says, “where’s our bed.”

Draco’s silhouette crawls to the opening of the cloth… tent-shaped thing. Pewter grey eyes peer at him behind strands of near-platinum blonde, its icy color soothed by the orange tint of… ah, so he’s brought the bug lamp in here. Neat.

“I,” Draco answers. Pauses. “Might have brought it somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else.”

“Yes.”

Harry shakes his head. An exasperated chuckle escapes his lips.

“Is ‘somewhere else’ the recycling center?”

“Why,” Draco flops down on the floor, appearing tired of holding himself up on his elbows for more than 10 seconds. It’s peculiar to see, the gesture a bit ungraceful for someone like him. Harry is helplessly in love amused. “Do my ears deceive me? Am I being confronted, cornered, accosted for being a good husband? Were the 5 minutes it took to Shrink and Levitate the wretched old thing away from our safe haven worth your condescension, dear lover?”

“I guess I did say I hate-”

“Correct!”

“-the headboard. Nothing but the headboard. Yesterday. While I’m half asleep. Baby.”

“Oh, pish posh, I hate it too! In fact, I’m doing us both a favor disposing of the entire thing altogether.”

“God, however can I thank you? I mean, you did rid us of our bed where we sleep on.”

“You can thank me by taking off those horrid gears faster and come here,” with that, Draco crawls back to where he was sitting before.

“You love these gears,” Harry says, hanging his harnesses and tool belt in the closet and walking into the bathroom for a quick shower, “you love them against your ba-”

“Put a lock on that filthy mouth, Potter, what will the Daily Prophet think?” Draco’s yell almost drowns out the shower spray. Harry laughs, his stomach hurting for the right reason at last.

When he re-enters the bedroom, Draco is leaning out from the tent thing.

“Come, get in, get in,” he beckons with a hasty wave.

Harry points to his wet hair with the hand holding his towel. Draco clicks his tongue and waves his hand more aggressively.

His husband’s level of theatrics is directly proportional to how slow Harry is at doing what he says, so he nods, fondness overflowing, and obeys.

“What’s all this?” He crouches and crawls in, eyeing the collection of pillows and quilts surrounding Draco and what would be Harry’s seat. It seems that he had also lugged in the chairs from their dining room to provide some structural support for the tent.

“A blanket fort, lover,” Draco says, his gaze tender. Harry’s finger tips tingle with every touch of cotton, linen, silk, as he gets situated. It’s been years and years and years and years, and Harry can never get used to, can never take for granted, the weight of his husband’s undivided attention.

“Huh,” he says, sitting down with an ‘oof’, “isn’t this for kids?”

“A blanket fort is a blanket fort,” Draco takes the towel from Harry’s arm and puts the throw pillow Ron knitted in his lap. He hits a button on the laptop in front of them, and Harry’s favorite jazz collection plays. He blinks. He thought Draco would play his questionable atmospheric-white-noise-POV-you’re-having-tea-in-a-gothic-vampire-library playlist, the weirdo.

Velvety smooth sax flows through the air. Harry exhales, easy and content, and lets Draco tilt his head. He towels Harry’s hair, massaging unhurried circles on his scalp and varying the degree of pressure. In no time, his head lolls forward, eyes closed, chin a breath away from his well-worn shirt. A slender, pale hand cups his cheek and holds his head up and steady. Meanwhile, the hand’s owner leans out of the blanket fort to get something.

“Ow.” A grunt. Harry smiles; most likely a cramp from all the leaning.

Then, his husband reseats himself, this time with a smell. A mouth-watering, delicious smell, tickling the back of Harry’s nose. He opens his eyes to see Draco lifting off the lid of a ceramic bowl perched on a tray, steam floating out and fogging Harry’s glasses. It’s purple yam soup, topped with chopped up shrimp and ground beef.

“Your usual order from the Viet place nearby whenever Pepper-up isn’t sufficient,” Draco murmurs, placing a spoon in Harry’s hand, his words warm against Harry’s temple. Huh, he didn’t think Draco would notice. “You said today you’d deal with those disgusting booby traps you showed me, thus I reckoned I should put the yams on our counter into good use.”

Harry stares at the soup, stunned. Draco must have taken his expression as something else.

“Oh, right,” he says, “I heated it up on the stove, but you were taking atrociously long so I casted a Heating charm. Let me take it off, okay?”

Draco flicks his hawthorn wand, a hand squeezing Harry’s shoulder as if he could see the prickling running up Harry’s nape.

He turns to look at his husband. When Harry’s career was starting to take its toll on his magical core, Draco didn’t hesitate to dive headfirst into Muggle living. Easier said than done, and it took months for him to stop frowning at the “absolutely bizarre, Potter, bizarre” appliances, but he got there in the end. Despite his constant bitching about everything, Draco not once raised a word about the drastic switch, effortlessly guiding Narcissa to gossip about the Albescu clan’s abhorrent matriarch when she asks about how he’s faring.

“Gosh, I,” Harry says. Mumbles, really, into Draco’s collarbone, filling his brain with the woodsy aroma of potion making that no amount of expensive body products can mask, “that’s lovely, baby, thank you.”

“Eat,” Draco says, rubbing his chin on the top of Harry still-damp hair and messaging his tense neck. Harry knows he’s breathing him in too. “Or I’ll have to heat it up in the kitchen again, and forgive me but I’d rather stay here for the next 12 hours, at least.”

“Lazy arse.”

Draco laughs, a momentary rumble of his chest, then moves forward to click something on the laptop. Harry’s on his fifth spoonful of pure comfort when the jazz music stops, and on the blank wall opposite from their blanket fort is the title card of a movie. Strange, Harry didn’t even notice the mini projector. He squints.

“Why is there Korean subtitles?”

“Lover,” Draco tosses a napkin at Harry’s crossed legs, “what is watching movies online without the occasional bout of piracy?”

“Pira- piracy,” Harry chokes, the hot soup stinging his palate, “we have a Netflix subscription.”

“You can’t find shite like this on Netflix.”

“Of course we can. Baby, we don’t know anyone who’s good at computer stuff and can deal with the viruses.”

“There’s no virus here, I checked.”

“How,” Harry stresses, “and again, piracy.”

“Sometimes,” Draco says, lowering the speaker volume, “not doing crimes… is worse.”

“What the fuck,” the main character, a square-faced woman with a python around her neck, has a monologue in a completely different language. “What the fuck? Is that Italian?”

“Yes, but I’m French.”

“And?”

“And they’re both Romance languages. I can understand certain words and translate it for you.”

No, he can’t.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Keep eating,” Draco settles amid the pillows, long hair settled on his satin-clad chest, white against emerald. Harry sneers at him - an unfortunate habit he’s gotten from Draco - and turns to watch the movie.

True to his words, Draco translates every dialogue and mimics the characters’ voices with zeal, contradicting his stoic expression and somber, interlaced hands, looking like a cranky judge having to deal with reckless teenagers on their anti-authority phase. Harry can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing, and soon enough he’s woven a story about how the thriller-mystery they’re watching is actually a vicious custody battle over a duck. For each of Harry’s occasional snicker at the absurdity Draco has thought up is a playful kick at his ribs.

Minutes pass. With Harry’s bowl now emptied, he puts it on a chair and goes to wash up.

The moment he sits back down, Draco’s big toe pokes at his spine. Getting the memo, Harry grins and reclines on the pillows. His left side is flushed against Draco’s right, the kinks in his neck eased off from the angle. They, as per usual, gradually get closer to one another, and at some point, Draco lays his head on Harry’s chest and ear on his beating heart. It’s calming to him, Draco had said when Harry asked, on the third night of their honeymoon. With the war long behind them, there was nothing to fear. Only the constellations existed as their witnesses.

“You died, Harry,” he had whispered, full and tipsy. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen, despite all the shite I made you go through.

“You were so far away in Hagrid’s arms, I couldn’t see your face,” the night had been blinding, but his eyes had found Draco’s anyway. “It felt like my heart died with you.”

Harry had kissed his forehead and hugged him close. His heart had always been there for Draco to take.

“What’s up with the blanket fort?”

He has a lapful of Draco, a lungful of peach and cedar scented shampoo, and the sleepy timbre of his husband’s voice against his chest. The Italian movie is the last thing on Harry’s mind.

“I wasn’t aware of its existence growing up,” Draco says. “Having anything other than an immaculate bed when one wasn’t sleeping was uncouth, see, so you could imagine my surprise when Teddy demanded to play in something as messy as a fort so often.”

Harry doesn’t need to imagine it; he had witnessed it himself. Draco, freshly released from a two-year sentence in Azkaban, mellowed and tentative, yet determined to reconnect with his mother’s sister and his nephew. Harry had been wary too, standing in the corner of Teddy’s bedroom, staring at the fuzz of blonde on Draco’s shorn head and his weak gait. Teddy, the darling boy with his clumsy hold on Draco’s thigh, afraid that the haggard man would trip without help, had led him to his play area.

“Fort, fort,” the boy had screamed in Draco’s ear, but he hadn’t flinched. He had nodded and gone along with Teddy’s babbled directions, then sat back on his heels and fixed a wide-eyed stare at the monstrosity Teddy had called a fort (his designing skills were, unsurprisingly, underdeveloped at the mere age of two).

Swiveling his head, he had gawked at Harry, who had still been standing in the corner with his arms crossed, confusion and hysteria in the arch of his aristocratic brows.

It had been the first time he had looked at Harry in the eye for years. In seconds, it was 6th Year all over again, with him watching Draco pushing his food around with a fork from across the room, unable to look away. Obsession, a voice unlike Hermione’s helpfully defined, had slithered up and under his skin. It had remained there for years, stubborn and ardent, an emotion he had tried to leave behind time and time again. He’d never succeeded.

It’s Draco, after all.

“He never let anyone but him enter the fort, remember? Back when he’s still making us build it for him?” Draco’s fingers tap a random rhythm on Harry’s stomach. Harry tightens his arm around him, shifts a bit. “So many forts and I still didn’t know what it’s like to be in one.”

Somebody downs a shot in the movie. Harry doesn’t quite register it. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a proper one either until now. Didn’t have enough space in the cupboard. Plus, the hanging around the beds at Hogwarts felt pretty cozy by themselves.”

Draco hums. “Mhmm, I say. Another ‘first’ for us.”

Harry glances at the crown of his head. The man doesn’t sound surprised; Harry wagers that he already knows and decided to make one for the both of them today.

They continue to watch the movie in silence, whites and blues and purples flooding his sight, until Draco yawns and Harry blinks his eyes shut for far too long.

“Baby.”

“Hmm?”

“Sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Where, then? We have no bed.”

“I still maintain that I made the right choice”

“Jesus Christ, you’re so rash for an academic.”

“Well, in my professional opinion, sleeping in a blanket fort every blue moon does wonders for one’s quality of sleep,” Draco gets up on his elbow to smirk at Harry, “we can look at other beds tomorrow, can’t we? Now hush. Rest.”

“Ha,” Harry says, at least 5 more words to follow up on that just on the tip of his tongue. But then Draco runs a gentle hand through Harry’s hair, taking his time with it, the remaining hints of Harry’s migraine from work fading with every curl of hair carefully unknotted. He mumbles this and that, silly, insignificant things, engrossed in his task, and Harry listens carefully as his eyelids lower.

Draco takes off his gold-rimmed glasses (so sweet and soft Harry can barely feel it), cleans them and puts them on a chair. Through half-lidded eyes, Harry watches him cover them both with a quilt and return to Harry’s chest, curling up like a cat. Draco’s arm is around his midriff, peach and cedar pervading his senses anew, and Harry forgets whatever he was going to say.

Cold ankles pressed against bare calves, Harry is already deep asleep when the credits roll.

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #drarry fic #fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #blanket fort #oneshot #3k words #draco would be the type to get mushy mushy in private and call harry shit like lover darling my love #harry would say draco baby and babe everywhere #thats it hes uncreative like that #and draco wouldnt even care #both of their love languages are acts of service so draco doesnt need reassuring when he knows harry would burn cities for him #they love each other very ardently that simple gestures communicate entire sonnets #and theyre cool with that #good for them #joonkorre writes

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lilixloveswriting · 3 years

Text

Cat and Mouse

In my docs this is named "Rip Kouki" so yeah i know the title is shit but it's something so

Also this is old, I think it was a whumptober prompt from 2019? But i don't remember which one

edit: I lied, this was from Jan 2020, so a little more recent than I thought but not by much

Summary: Having a regeneration quirk is all fun and games until other people find out about it. In which Kouki fends off his bullies yet again

Word Count: 6k

TW: minor whump (Kouki is a high schooler), swearing, physical violence, character death (kinda), physical injury, noncon touching/restraints, forced stripping (but no nsfw)

BNHA OC Masterlist

|| Before School ||

“Okay, bye! Have a good day! I’ve got to stay later tonight to work on some stuff, so don’t forget Hitoshi is coming to walk with you, okay?” Saisho said, digging into the back seat and passing Kouki his lunch box. “Don’t keep him waiting- Hey!” She bumped his shoulder, tearing his attention away from the window. “Listen!”

“Sorry.” He said, taking the lunch box and shoving it in his bag. “I won’t keep him waiting.”

Saisho tilted her head, furrowing her eyebrows together as she rested her wrist on the steering wheel. “What were you staring at?”

His breath hitched. What to say...what to say? Then he smiled. “The paint color looks different today.” Kouki pointed out of the window and Saisho squinted. “Doesn’t it look darker to you?”

“No?” She said, then moved in closer as if it would help. “Well, maybe a little…” She shook her head. “Anyway, I have to get going so…” She unlocks the door and shoos Kouki out of his seat. He closes the door behind him, turning back to the open window. “Be good!” She said, and Kouki smiled brightly.

“I should be the one telling you that.” He said and Saisho gave a sarcastic laugh before rolling up the windows and pulling off.

Kouki watched until she was out of sight, then allowed his face to fall. He closed his eyes, took in a shaky breath, and turned on his heel, taking quick steps to the building. He had one objective: get to class.

He passed the lockers; he had switched out his books at home and changed his shoes in the car.

There wasn’t time to do it at school. Get to class.

He passed the water fountain; he brought his own water bottle, and on the days that he forgot, he just didn’t drink anything.

A little dehydration wouldn’t kill him. Get to class.

“Oh, Kirishima-kun!” Someone called out, alerting the entire hallway of his presence. He kept his head down and began to walk faster.

Do not stop. Get. To. Class.

With every step, he got more and more anxious. His hands started to tremble and he balled them up into fists as his breathing grew ragged. He could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage and air whistled past his ears as he broke into a sprint. He just had to get to class.

If he got there in time, he could miss them. They couldn’t touch him if he was in class with other people, with a teacher. He’d be safe in class. He just had to get there.

Kouki screeched to a halt, fingers desperately gripping onto the door handle as he yanked it open, throwing himself inside. He slammed it shut, unaware of how loud and disruptive he may have been, and leaned back against it, shutting his eyes as his lungs desperately worked to catch up with his body. He made it.

Clap, clap, clap. “Bravo.”

Kouki’s eyes shot open, searching wildly for the source of the sound. His heart stopped and he felt his stomach drop when he saw that his seat was occupied. Ichioka Souetsu’s sickening smile gleamed back at him and a sense of dread fell over the room as two other boys stood up from their chairs.

No, no, no. Why were they here? They don’t come to class early, they don’t. Normally they wait by the-

“We waited for you by the stairs all morning yesterday.” The middle one said, uncrossing his legs and bringing them down from where they sat atop the desk. “Where were you? And choose your words carefully.” The other two joined him, inching their way closer and closer to where Kouki stood. “No one likes a liar.”

Kouki’s jaw trembled as he dropped it slightly, struggling to come up with an answer. Shouldn’t that question be rhetorical? They obviously knew where he was, otherwise they wouldn’t be here. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be telling him not to lie. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be closing in on him like a pack of lions ready to rip him to pieces. But the question wasn’t rhetorical, and they were expecting an answer.

“I…” It came out in a shaky breath and the words just wouldn’t come to him. “I-I...I-”

“‘I-I-I-’ God, you’re such a pussy! Look at you trembling!” He said, his voice soft and gentle but his eyes twinkling a sadistic glow. “I mean, what are you so afraid of?” He stopped about a foot away, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning forward, a playful smirk on his lips. “You’ll heal right up anyway, right?”

On cue, the two other boys moved forward, grabbing Kouki by the arms and pulling him away from the door. Ichioka took off Kouki’s tie, despite the boy’s thrashing, and stuffed it in his mouth as a gag. The boys then dragged him out into the hallway, turning the corner and exiting out of the door to the back of the school. He struggled against their grip and screamed, not that it did much good as he still ended up being thrown to the ground, the force of his body conjuring up a cloud of dirt. He scrambled to get to his feet but was kicked over before he could stand from his hands and knees. A second hadn’t even gone by that he’d been on the ground when a crushing weight landed on his chest. He wrapped his hands around Ichioka’s ankle as his shoe pressed into Kouki's sternum, forcing the air out of his lungs.

“Stop. Screaming.” He said, putting on a bit more pressure as he said the second word.

It cut Kouki’s whimper short and tears pricked in his eyes as he let go of Ichioka.

“Are we going to behave?” He asked, and Kouki knew this time it was rhetorical. He nodded weakly, lungs burning for air. “Good.” Ichioka smiled and lifted his foot, and Kouki gasped for air, choking on the fabric of his tie dangling down the back of his throat.

Kouki rolled over, pushing himself up with his hands despite the soreness radiating from his chest.

"What should we do?" One of the boys asked. Kouki came to know him as Taketa Jiro.

"Just rough him up a bit." The other, Yamane Tetsuo, said, swiping his foot underneath Kouki's, who had finally made it to his feet. The motion sent him plummeting back down, slamming his back into the ground and knocking the air out of his lungs.

He clutched his head in pain as it bounced off of the ground. Yup, that was a headache that was going to last all day.

“Hold on, guys,” Ichioka said and the other two backed off momentarily, allowing Kouki the opportunity to sit up and rub his skull. There was no point in trying to stand again. “Nothing too obvious, we still have the whole day to get through.” He walked over to Kouki, placing his hands on his hips. “Stand up.”

He did, slowly but surely, doing his best not to shake too much. He stood silently, avoiding eye contact with all three boys and stared at a random spot on the ground.

“Go over there.” Ichioka nodded his head towards the wall and Kouki hesitated. The boy frowned. “Now.” He sneered, and a small whimper escaped Kouki’s throat as he stumbled back towards the wall. The three boys followed him, encompassing him in a semi-circle of dread. They waited for a minute, if only to make his heart pound in his ears. Then Ichioka spoke again.

“Take off your shirt.”

His body convulsed as he bit back a sob. Go. Do it. Don’t hesitate. Do it. Do it. Why couldn’t he do it?

“Kouki…” Ichioka tsked and sighed, tossing his head to the side. “I thought we were going to behave today. Don’t make me do it myself.”

Kouki pressed his lips together and pulled his arms out of the sleeves of his jacket, allowing the piece of fabric to fall to the ground. Slowly, he inched his fingers up to the hem of his shirt, shaking as he pulled it up over his head, then dropped it on the ground.

A smile pulled at Ichioka’s lips. “Good boy.” He praised him, and Kouki exhaled in shame. Ichioka approached him and bent down, eyes tracing over Kouki’s chest. “Hm. You’re all healed up, huh?”

Kouki swallowed, trying his best to calm his breathing. It had been almost a full 48 hours since they’d last hurt him, so there were no traces of their abuse. He thought Ichioka would be angry about this, but instead, the boy smiled and a chuckle escaped his throat.

“Wonderful.” He held up his thumb, “I love a blank canvas.” He licked his fingerpad, coating it in saliva, then pressed it right beneath Kouki’s rib. It sizzled as it hit his skin and Kouki couldn’t help but struggle.

Taketa moved in and shot a slimy liquid from his hands, coating Kouki’s arms as Yamane placed a hand on his neck, using his quirk to stiffen Kouki’s body. Yamane stayed until the liquid hardened, locking Kouki in a cast like material and sticking him to the wall.

Ichioka finally lifted his thumb and smiled proudly at the mark he left, grazing a finger over it and chuckling with delight when Kouki flinched in pain. He then stepped in even closer so that his face was about two inches from Kouki’s stomach. He hovered for a moment, his light breathing tickling Kouki’s bare skin, whose diaphragm contracted as he couldn’t help but allow the sobs to tumble out of his mouth. Kouki flexed and tightened his abdomen, preparing for what was to come, as if it would somehow ease the pain. It didn’t work, and the shock was the same as before as Ichioka dragged his tongue along Kouki’s stomach, leaving a burning trail of his acidic spit all the way across his chest like a seat belt. Kouki screamed as the scalding pain ripped at his flesh and he pulled against his cement-like restraints, desperate to make it stop.

His prayers were answered as the sound of the school bell rang loudly into the air, replacing Ichioka’s amused face with a look of annoyance. He sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets and rolling his eyes up to the sky.

“So much for making up for lost time…” He mumbled and kicked at the ground, then looked back up at Kouki, who at this point had fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Hey, meet us after school.” He said, and held his hand in an L-shape, licking both fingers then grabbing hold of Kouki’s chin, who yelped out in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. “And don’t try to run,” Ichioka warned, then turned and pushed open the door to the school. The others followed suit, Taketa throwing Kouki’s shirt at him before they disappeared.

Kouki immediately shook it off of his head, restoring his vision as he worked his tongue to remove his tie. He gagged as he finally got it out, coughing over his tears and breaths of air. Next, he tugged at his restraints, scraping his bare back against the wall in the process. The back of his arms were also exposed, and they received the most amount of damage as he flailed, slowly but surely loosening the cast. The one on his right finally fell, and he let his arm hang for a moment before reaching to pry the left one off. Once he’d freed his wrist, he fell to the ground, resting his fists on his knees and allowing himself to cry.

God, he probably looked so gross. It had only been 15 minutes and he already felt like he needed a shower.

The late bell rang and he let out one final sob, then peeled his eyes open and reached for his shirt. He got dressed again, picked up his things, wiped at his face, and entered the school.

|| After School ||

The final bell rang, and Kouki shrunk down into his seat.

“Meet us after school, and don’t try to run.”

Kouki’s stomach flipped as he thought about what was to come. Ichioka had left him alone at lunch, which usually didn’t happen, and before school, he had mentioned something about “making up for lost time.” His words and his actions completely contradicted each other, and it left Kouki feeling anxious. He zipped up his bag and stood with it, holding it in his hand as his shoulder was still raw from grinding it against the wall. He headed out into the hallway, eyes searching among the swarm of students for Ichioka, Taketa, or Yamane. It was better when he could see them coming; he hated being grabbed from behind.

He entered the flow of traffic, keeping his head down and his feet moving. His height didn’t aid in his attempt to blend in, and he wished he were on the shorter side like his sister, who stood at a solid 5’6”.

He followed the sea of people outside of the school, where the crowd thinned as everyone dispersed and either got in their rides or started on their walks home. Hitoshi was nowhere to be seen among the students so Kouki pulled out his phone, hoping he’d received a text disclosing his cousin’s whereabouts. His heart sank when there were no new notifications. Normally he wouldn’t be so impatient...well, normally he was busy getting his butt kicked and whoever was picking him up that day would be the one waiting. But today, he had managed to avoid getting caught in the hallways and the bathroom, and he hoped that he’d actually be able to leave on time.

“Kirishima-kun!” His voice was like nails on a chalkboard and Kouki nearly dropped his phone in fear. He turned his head to see the three boys approaching him, looking far too excited for his liking.

Everything but them disappeared in that moment and those words echoed in Kouki’s head.

“Don’t try to run.”

Kouki took off, throwing his bag over his shoulder despite the pain that it caused. His feet slammed into the concrete as he flew down the sidewalk, dodging between pedestrians with middling success. The wind blew back his hair and sweat formed on his brow as he pushed on, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut as panic flooded his mind.

“Why did I do that? Why did I do that? WHY did I do that?!” He asked himself, even though he knew the answer. “They were going to hurt me. I had to. I didn’t have a choice.” Kouki reasoned. “But now...oh god, if they catch me…” He gasped in distress. “They aren’t just going to hurt me. They’re going to kill me.”

The blaring of a horn pulled Kouki out of his thoughts and he spun on his foot, narrowly missing the front bumper of a car. He nearly fell but regained his footing quickly and kept going. The encounter was enough to send him into tears.

No, no, no. God please...he didn’t want to die. Not again. It was painful, and he always felt so tired afterward. It was hard to stand and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how much he ate or how much water he drank. Plus, he would disappear for hours on end and he didn’t want Saisho and his dads to worry. They worry too much already, he can’t go and shut down. He would miss one call from them and they’d be ready to send out search parties.

He needed to get away. He needed to lose them. There was a building up ahead. He just needed to get there. There’d be people there. They wouldn’t kill him in front of people, right? Just keep going. Don’t stop, just don’t stop.

Kouki blasted through the double doors, gasping and panting and looking around wildly in his disheveled state. Tables and shelves...shelves...shelves, so many shelves filled with...what, are those books?

“Shh!” Kouki snapped his head to the side to see a woman shushing him angrily behind a counter. He swallowed his gasps, clamping his mouth shut to force all the air to go through his nose.

He stumbled to an empty table, fumbling to pull out a chair before sitting down and slumping over the table. Kouki heaved heavily, blowing the blond locks sticking to his forehead away. His lungs ached and he nursed them with small and steady breaths, allowing the pounding of his head to slow back down. The library was nice, quiet. Maybe he should come here more often.

"KIRISHIMA!" Or maybe not. Kouki sprang back up as Ichioka, Taketa, and Yamane burst through the doors of the library.

The fear was replaced, and Kouki rose from his seat and ducked behind a shelf. The library was nearly silent, their footsteps were the only thing he could hear, growing increasingly louder as they neared his hiding place. He placed a hand over his mouth to muffle his breathing and crouched down low to make himself smaller, wishing that he had brought a change of clothes, or a hoodie, or something that could make him less obvious.

He stood back up and peeked through the books, almost ducking again almost immediately when Taketa turned around. Kouki looked down the aisle, then made a dash over to the next one, leaning back against it as though it would make him blend in. This continued for quite some time; Kouki would peek, duck, and run in the worst game of hide ‘n seek known to man until he reached the depths of the library. It was almost like a maze and Kouki worried that he would get lost in it and find himself cornered at a dead end with no escape. He was keeping track of the signs and the books that he’d passed, but eventually, they all began to look the same, and he didn’t know where he was anymore.

...Wait. If he didn’t know where he was...maybe they didn’t know where he was either. Kouki stopped running and placed a hand on the shelf as he caught his breath, inhaling and exhaling through his nose so that he could hear over his own panting. He looked around.

He couldn’t see them.

He held his breath.

He couldn’t hear them either.

Had he really lost him? Oh my god, he should get out of here. With any hope, they were lost in the bookshelves as well, and Kouki could slip out through the back.

Kouki tightened his grip on his bag and inched his way towards the back door. He did his best to blend in and stuck to the walls so that he couldn't be snuck up on. The door seemed closer than ever, and Kouki let out a small breath of relief.

"Just a few more steps."

And then it happened. It was like a fire alarm going off in that silent library, and Kouki fumbled with his phone, desperately trying to decline the call with his shaky fingers. Kouki broke into a sprint, barreling through the back doors with the other boys hot on his tail.

He pivoted as Taketa's plaster narrowly missed his foot, hardening quickly on the sidewalk as Kouki changed direction. He wasn't sure where he was going, he just knew he had to go somewhere.

How should he run? Sh-should he run in a straight line? Or would a zig-zag pattern be better? Damn it, Kouki! They’re boys, not alligators! This is how you should run: fast.

Kouki yelped as his foot landed down on some strategically shot plaster, sending him plummeting to the ground and tumbling down the slope of dirt. He rolled with the mulch and woodchips until the ground leveled out at the edge of the trees. It took him a bit too long to groan and push himself up, as he wasn’t able to regain his bearings. Before he knew it, there were hands on his ankles and he was being demon dragged into the woods. He screamed and clawed at the ground, despite knowing crying for help was only going to make things worse for him.

His mind knew, but his body disagreed with him. It was all about survival instincts at that point, and that was something his body was particularly good at. The second Taketa let go of his ankles, Kouki was on his feet. They grabbed him by his backpack, which he slipped an arm out of and swung at the boys, ending somewhat successful, sending them stumbling backwards.

He made it about two steps before slipping on Taketa’s plaster again. He face planted, and before he was given a second to get up, his muscles stiffened painfully as Yamane placed a hand on his neck. He grit his teeth as the cramp shot through his body, disabling all movement. Taketa took a fist full of Kouki's hair and yanked his head up as Ichioka moved to stand in front of him.

“I told you not to run.” Was all he said before the sole of his shoe met with Kouki’s face and everything went dark.

***

Kouki’s eyes shot open and he gasped sharply, rolling over onto his back as he felt his heart start to pump again. He couldn’t feel much besides a dull ache radiating off of his entire body, and he reveled in the numbness; it wasn’t going to last long.

He blinked up at the sky as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He couldn’t really tell if it was raining or not. He was cold, really cold, but that was pretty normal. He’d warm up eventually.

There was a tickle in his chest and Kouki pushed himself up as he coughed. His lungs seized as he hacked, a crackling noise emitting with each clearing of his throat. He heaved once more, sighing with relief when the dried blood finally came up on his sleeve. At least he wasn't bleeding any more. That would have posed a problem.

A loud pinging noise rang out, and Kouki stiffly turned his head to the side to see his phone lighting up. He crawled over and slid the answer icon, shakily raising the phone to his ear.

“‘Lo?” He cleared his throat. His voice was dry and ragged, he hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

“Kouki, oh my god!” Kouki winced as the voice pierced his eardrums. Although he couldn’t put a face to it, it brought him a sense of comfort, a sense of safety. “He picked up!” The voice said, more muffled this time and Kouki deciphered that it was probably his family.

“D-Dad?” He tried, his mind clearing a bit as he envisioned the redhead’s face full of worry.

“Jesus Christ! Where are you? Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone? We’ve been worried sick!” His dad rambled and Kouki rubbed his face, regretting it immediately as his finger grazed his still broken cheekbone.

“Sorry.” He apologized, doing his best to hide the pain in his voice. “Uh, I took a trip to the library and my phone died. It didn’t turn on until just now...I borrowed a charger.”

“God, why do we give him a phone if he’s not going to answer it? I told him to keep it charged.” An angry voice came through and Kouki winced at the mental image of his other dad. He could see him stalking around the kitchen, stress strewn all over his face.

“Sorry…” Kouki mumbled.

“It’s okay, hon-”

“No, it’s not! He made us worry for no reason, Dad! Don’t baby him!” He could see Saisho this time, yelling at Eijiro from the other side of the table.

There was more arguing on the other line and Kouki sighed. He always seemed to cause problems and stress for everyone...sometimes he wished he just didn’t come back at all.

“Kouki? Honey, are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry.” He tuned his hearing, doing his best to focus on his dad’s voice rather than the increasing pain in his chest cavity.

“Okay, Dad is coming to get you.”

“What?” Kouki’s eyes widened and he went to shake his head, biting back a whimper from the shooting pain it sent down his neck. “No, no. It’s okay, that’s okay. He’s probably cooking, right? I’ll walk.”

“Absolutely not. It’s late. He’s leaving now, stay where you are. I’m not kidding, Kouki.”

"But-" The light shining from his phone suddenly dimmed and Kouki pulled the phone away from his ear, sighing as the low battery symbol blinked, taunting him before the screen went black entirely. Great. How was he supposed to explain that his phone died again?

He took a deep breath to sigh, but it was cut short by the stabbing pain in his chest. “AGH!” He gasped, a hand flying up to the spot of pain. A shiver coursed through his body and as his nervous system finally started back up, he realized that yes, it was raining. He also realized that he couldn’t breathe without feeling like his ribs were piercing through his lungs. He could barely manage a whimper as his organs screamed in agony, accompanied by an intense ache in his muscles.

All he could do was sit for a while, allowing his tears to silently run down his cheeks. Then he shakily raised a hand and wiped his face dry, despite the pain it caused. Kouki bit down on his lip as he forced himself to stand, whining when he took his first step and the shock waved up through his chest. He stumbled, falling into a tree and squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for it to dull. Kouki grimaced as he opened his eyes and peered through the trees to the building.

Okay, he could do this. It wasn't that far. He just…had to take it slow.

Or should he go fast? Get it over with? Kouki shook his head. No, no, going slowly was definitely the right answer. He didn't want to risk puncturing a lung, assuming that his rib was actually broken. A broken rib would already be hard to hide, but a collapsed lung was pretty dang obvious. He had to be careful so he could heal up as quickly as possible.

Still, each step was torture as the mere impact of his toe to the ground shot ricocheting pain up into Kouki’s chest. It was impossible to breathe through it and all he managed were short inhales and sharp exhales. He tried his best not to stumble as the lack of oxygen caused his vision to blur. If he stumbled, he’d have to catch himself. And if he had to catch himself, he’d have to move quicker, and that was just out of the question.

The solid metal under his hands nearly made Kouki cry in relief, despite the strain it took to actually pull the door open. He did his best to close it back quietly, as to not raise an alarm or suspicion about why he had entered from the back. After a bit of looking around, he spotted the signs to the bathroom and followed their directions accordingly. He found a single one, meant for a family, and locked the door behind him.

God, he looked like shit. Kouki stared into the mirror at his grey complexion, his bruises would be pretty prominent until his blood flow increased. Lucky for him, they were already fading, and hopefully wouldn’t be noticeable in a couple of hours. Still unfortunate, Kouki didn’t have a couple of hours.

He sighed and hitched his breath, mentally cursing himself for the involuntary pain he’d inflicted. With stiff and shaky movements, Kouki gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, tilting his head and grimacing at the dark splotch covering his ribs. Yeah...that was definitely broken.

Kouki closed his eyes, lowering his shirt and leaning into the sink to support his weight. His head was killing him, and he figured that it was probably a head injury that had killed him. The constant pounding indicated that he had a pretty major concussion and Kouki made a mental note to review the care for those online once he got home, not that the light of the computer would help. He knew he wasn’t supposed to sleep, but he figured if he did fall into some sort of coma, his body would just fix it anyway.

He reached for the taps and turned on the water, washing away the dirt, mud, and blood on his face. He hoped that maybe the warmth of the water would stimulate blood flow, and help him look a little less like he had just crawled out of a grave. Kouki switched the hot tap off, so that only the cold one was running and cupped his hands, bringing the cold water to his lips. It was a little hard not to drown himself considering the tremors in his hands. Hopefully dinner would be done by the time he got home; he needed to raise his blood sugar.

After taking one final glance at the mirror, Kouki pulled on his jacket, buttoned it all the way up to hide the dirt and blood stains, and exited the bathroom. He walked to the front of the library, ignoring all the odd looks from the staff getting ready to close up. He pushed the doors open, making up for his lack of strength by leaning all of his weight onto the handle, then barely caught his balance as he stumbled outside. There was a bench by the door, on which he chose to sit while he waited for his dad. It wasn’t quite shielded by the roof, so the rain was still pouring down on him, but it wouldn’t have mattered as he was already wet anyways.

After some time, Kouki picked his head up at the sound of tires splashing through the street. He quickly collected his things and slid into the passenger seat, placing his bag between his feet.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Here we go.

“Running off and not telling anybody where you were? The library? Since when do you go to the library? Since when do you read? Hitoshi called you three times. We called you seven. Why didn’t you pick up the phone? You could have at least texted.” His dad lectured as he pulled off and Kouki rested his head on his hand.

“I told you, my phone died.”

“And I’ve told you multiple times to bring a charger with you to school. I didn’t buy a portable charger for you to leave it at home.” Kouki shut his eyes, even the street lights were too bright. “You know, NOW would actually be a good time to apologize-”

“Sorry.” He finally murmured and Katsuki scoffed.

“That’s it?”

“Well, ugh-” Kouki faltered, trying his best to navigate through his frustration and his pain. “I said I was sorry! What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to take your damn charger to school and give somebody some notice next time!”

“Okay! I’m sorry!” His voice broke and he ran a hand through his hair, pulling away as his fingers grazed a sore spot.

There was a silent pause then a soft sigh. "Hey…I didn't mean to raise my voice. You scared us, and no one knew where you were. I'm sorry." Katsuki took on a gentler tone, placing a hand on Kouki's shoulder.

Kouki shut his eyes, holding back a sigh. Great, he probably thought he was crying. "It's fine…I'm sorry. I'll call next time."

“Thank you.”

He began to hum in response, but a crackling in his chest stopped it. A cough rose to his lips and Kouki turned away to hack inconspicuously into his sleeve. Katsuki placed a hand on his back and Kouki flinched, another bruise suddenly becoming apparent.

“Geez, you’re soaked, kiddo. How long were you sitting out in the rain?” Katsuki asked, lifting his hand and placing it back on the steering wheel.

Kouki squeezed his eyes shut as he bit back whimpers, afraid that if he opened his mouth he wouldn't be able to hide the pain that his rib was causing him. He couldn’t slip up; he didn’t have the answers for all the questions right now, but luckily for him, Katsuki didn’t ask any more.

His dad simply turned on his seat warmer and turned up the heat, then spouted some lecture about how Kouki would need a hot shower when he got home so he wouldn’t get sick. Kouki didn’t listen much, but the heat helped the shivers. His brain was still pounding against his skull, and any small noise from his throat sent him into a coughing fit, which then prompted more noises and Kouki had to clench his jaw shut which didn’t help his headache at all.

He managed, though, as he always did. And as they pulled into the driveway, he prepared himself to keep the act up through dinner.

“Kouki!” His dad called his name as he entered through the front door, pulling Kouki into his arms before he could even make it through the threshold.

“Hi.” He strained, his sore body crumbling in the hug. He pulled away first, allowing the pain on his face to show momentarily as Eijiro turned to greet Katsuki. Kouki glanced down the hallway, meeting eyes with his sister who was sitting on the stairs, practically fuming with anger. He winced at her dark gaze and quickly turned his attention back to his fathers.

“Oh, my god! You’re soaking wet!” Eijiro fussed, running a hand through the wet mop on Kouki’s head. “Honey, I’m sorry, I should have told you to take an umbrella-”

“It didn’t start raining until 4:30.” Saisho piped, standing up with the help of the guard rail. “He was supposed to be home by then. He didn’t need an umbrella.” She turned around and walked up the stairs, leaving the atmosphere heavy.

“Hey,” Katsuki said, hanging up his jacket, “Go shower. And hurry up, dinner will be done soon.”

Kouki nodded, tightening his grip on his backpack and trekking up the stairs to his room. He grabbed a clean pair of clothes and took them to the bathroom, shutting the door, turning on the fan, and turning the tap to the bath before collapsing over the side of the tub.

He cried at the sudden impact, but this time it was okay; no one could hear him over the running water. His head felt like it was full of bricks and his arms were as heavy as lead. His fingers shook as he curled them into weak fists, searching for the strength to stand back up. Black spots began to appear as the steam blurred his vision and Kouki whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. This wasn’t good, he was going to pass out, and then he’d run the water bill high. Get up, get up, get up.

He gripped the side of the tub and lifted his upper body, pushing himself to his feet with his other arm. Good, now he was sitting on the tub instead of the ground, which was at least closer to standing.

Kouki worked at the buttons of his jacket, allowing it to fall as it rolled off his shoulder, barely catching it in time before it landed in the bathtub. He stripped off the rest of his clothing, sighing at the dirt and blood stains before dropping them in a pile. It was too bad he couldn’t ask Mitsuko for help laundering them, he’d probably end up having to throw them away.

Now, without his shirt off, he could truly see the extent of the damage. Ichioka’s burns from that morning had nearly disappeared, but there were new ones adorning his chest and arms. Hopefully his bruises would be faded by tomorrow morning, otherwise he’d have to try and steal some of Saisho’s foundation, and pouding bruises with a beauty blender was less than fun.

The lesion from his broken rib had grown to cover his entire left side, and with a bit of feeling around Kouki found that it had been his fourth rib that had cracked. It was a bit too close to his heart than he was comfortable with, and the blood that he had coughed up earlier probably meant that it had pierced his lung. He was worried about internal bleeding, but seeing as though he hadn’t coughed up any more, his body must have fixed it. As long as he didn’t do anything to irritate it, it should be healed up in about two weeks.

As for everything else...nothing was bad enough to scar, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. On one hand, no scars meant that his family wouldn’t find out. On the other hand, no scars meant that his family wouldn’t find out. Kouki wouldn’t tell his family; he wouldn’t tell anyone. Threats were made, ones that wouldn’t just affect him, and Kouki cared too much about his loved ones to take that risk. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to tell them. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to shout it from the rooftops. That didn’t mean that he didn’t want to break down into tears every time they asked him where he’d been. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to ask for help. He wanted help, he needed help. He couldn’t do this for much longer, not on his own. But he’d have to, to protect the people he loved, he’d half to. So he would.

Showers were nice, because Kouki could cry as hard as he wanted. He could wash off all the dirt, and blood, and spit, and tears, and shame, and when he stepped out, if he was quick enough the steam would fog up the mirror and he wouldn’t have to look at himself. And for just a few minutes, he could pretend everything was normal.

Even if his body ached and his eyes were swollen and his throat was raw from sobbing, he could still pretend life was normal. He had been doing a lot of pretending lately, and it seemed to be all he was good at. It was easier to call it “pretending” than “lying,” to others, to himself. He wasn’t a liar, he was a pretender, and if he pretended for long enough, then maybe someday it’d stop being pretend. Maybe, hopefully, someday, it would be real. But until then, pretending was good.

Tags: @grizzlie70

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fandom-necromancer · 3 years

Text

Coffee, crushes and complications

This was prompted by a lovely anon! I hope you like it, I sure did!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: pre-Reed900 [Prequel] [Part2] [Part3] [Part4]

‘Reed? In my office!‘ Gavin couldn’t think of what he had done wrong, but considering how many times he had heard this sentence before, the anxiety settled in immediately. Still, he stood up, downed the last sip of coffee and walked over to his boss’ office. ‘Yes? What’s wrong?’, he asked, sitting down in the chair in front of the table. ‘What’s wrong?’ The man in front of him laughed heartily and Gavin nervously laughed, too. God, had he phcked up that badly with his last job? ‘Reed, nothing’s wrong, quite the opposite! How you handled this rich asshole was… I would say impressive, but that doesn’t do the thing justice. God, how they could ever throw you out of the police force, I can’t understand. You didn’t let him off the hook until he answered your questions and gave him nothing to work with! That is investigative journalism at it’s finest and damnit, Reed, no one else deserves it more!’ ‘What?’, Gavin asked relieved, but also proud. ‘A raise! I would promote you, but I need you where you are now. I hope you understand that?’ ‘Hey, sure. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than in the field.’ ‘Alright. Then I’ll just sign the papers and send them to you. Really, Reed, you out-did yourself with this one!’

When Gavin came home that day, the first thing he did was jump and cheer in triumph, then pick up his unsuspecting cat and hurl her around. ‘Oh, Bready, today is the day!’ He kissed her on her shoulder, before she finally decided she had enough with an angry growl. Immediately Gavin let her fall to the ground and hurried to the kitchen, grabbing the phone along the way. The number he searched for was only two clicks away and he let it ring while pouring out some kibble for Bready and heating up yesterday’s leftovers. ‘Hey, Eli!’, he excitedly called into the phone. ‘How are you? You won’t believe what happened today!’ He let his brother guess a few times until the microwave pinged and he let himself and his food fall on the couch. ‘Urgh, Eli you are boring and have too much creativity at your hands. No, I got a raise! Honestly, getting fired might have been the best thing to ever happen to me. I get raises for being a nosy asshole! My new boss phcking loves me and my colleagues actually seem to like me. Oh, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. We need to celebrate that! When are you free?’

He took a breath and began eating while listening to his brother complain about new work politics. Gavin actually felt with him for once. His view on androids had changed quite a bit. He got to know quite a few androids during his work and the day one of his colleagues had come in in tears saying they would have to resign because of some anti-android assholes, Gavin had changed. It had only been a few months since he started his new life, but for the first time he felt like he had his life under control. And like he enjoyed it. Being fired from the only job he thought to be ever good in had been hard. But after being stuck in that low for weeks he had realised that if he wanted to be happy, he had to work for it. And he did. And it had become better. Seeking professional help, reconciling with his brother and finally finding a new job he actually liked had been the end of a long journey that was far from over. But he was happy. And he was confident it would go up only from now on.

Their conversation dropped into casual talk, a few jokes and teasing. It was already late when Gavin decided to end it for today. He was tired and he wanted to at least watch another episode of this new show he enjoyed so much. ‘Okay, so when do you actually have time? Tomorrow? Nah, can’t do, I’m meeting Tina at this new coffee shop. Maybe on the weekend? Yes? Oh, that would be awesome. Okay, bye! Love you too!’

He smiled as he wanted to stand up to bring the phone back, but Bready had already made herself at home in his lap, so he just laid it to the side and switched on the TV.

‘Hey Tina!’, Gavin greeted the woman already standing in line. She turned around and her face lit up. Shortly after, Gavin was encased in strong arms and had to chuckle. ‘Hey, hey, let me down, alright?’ ‘God, I haven’t seen you in ages!’ ‘You saw me last month’, Gavin reminded her. ‘I see you dipshit every week on TV! That’s not the same. I miss you.’ ‘Wait you watch it?’ ‘Of course I watch it!’, Tina said and punched his shoulder. ‘What do you think of me? Also, it’s funny seeing you be a dick to people that obviously hide one or two bodies under a rug somewhere.’ Gavin shrugged. ‘Well, whatever floats your boat.’ ‘It’s good to see you like it’, Tina then said seriously. ‘I worried about you after you left.’ ‘I know’, Gavin groaned. ‘But I’m fine, okay? Really, I feel better than ever. Now shut your mouth for a while, I have to think what I want to order for a moment…’

They got their coffee and tea as well as two slices of cake soon enough and sat down in a corner of the room. ‘So, how’s work on your end?’, Gavin asked. ‘Hmm, nothing interesting at the moment. We had a suspected serial killer last week, but it turned out the cases weren’t connected after all and thankfully nothing more than the two murders happened before we got them. Otherwise… Nah, nothing interesting you want to talk about.’ So only stuff regarding the new guy. Gavin had said upfront he didn’t want to know anything about the person that had replaced him. It wouldn’t be any use after all. Tina thankfully respected his decision.

‘I did get to know someone’, she then smirked as silence threatened to stretch. ‘A beautiful, funny android lady. She also likes cats!’ ‘Oh that’s cool, tell me more!’, Gavin demanded and smiled, listening to Tina ramble on, cake and tea completely forgotten. Gavin had been determined to listen intently to her, but his attention was drawn from her as someone entered the coffee shop. Someone very familiar. ‘You got to be kidding me’, he hissed, and Tina caught on to him, turning around. There at the counter stood Hank and Connor, looking at the board. Wait. Was that another Connor? ‘Hey, T, who’s the other Connor?’, he whispered. ‘Can’t tell you without breaking a promise’, she admitted, ducking her head. ‘No phcking way a damn Connor replaced me!’

Maybe he had been louder than expected, maybe Connor just had picked up his name, but the RK800 turned around to him, eyes going wide and tapping Hank on the shoulder pointing over. Hank looked in his direction and apparently wanted to bolt immediately, but the friendly barista behind the counter had already placed their drinks on it. In that moment, the other Connor following them had spotted him too. The next thing he did was march over with large steps.

‘Oh hell no, I’m not doing this! I-‘ ‘Hello. My name is Richard. I’m sorry to have replaced you.’ ‘Oh, get phcked!’ Gavin was not having it. He had wanted to drink his coffee and talk to his best friend. He had no interest in talking to this machine. ‘I have waited very long for this moment, my colleagues having tried their best to make this meeting impossible. So, no, I won’t “get phcked”. Not before I you didn’t accept my apology.’ ‘Yeah, whatever. It’s fine. I was an asshole. Deserved getting fired. Now shoo!’ ‘I still don’t deserve getting a job when a human needs them to survive. It wasn’t fair. I heard you… did not fare well after being fired.’ Gavin took a deep breath, before standing up, the sound of the chair scratching on the ground like a precursor of a fight. ‘Listen here, Richard’, he said, pointing his finger at his chest. ‘My personal history doesn’t concern you in the slightest, okay? It’s true, I wasn’t stable in my old job. I was easily angered, I overworked myself on a regular basis without even realising it in the end. I had no friends. I am depressed. My life was one giant, gaping shithole. When I was fired it was for a good reason, but it send me spiralling even deeper down. But you know what? One day I hit rock bottom and knew it couldn’t get any worse than this, might as well try to make it better. And I worked hard for it. I worked my ass off trying to rebuild bridges I’ve burned and seek help. Get over my own walls and live. Be happy. Find a job. And you know what, you goddamn tin-can? I did it. I am a different man and I am happy. So don’t-‘ He took another breath to steady himself. ‘Don’t you dare giving me pity. I am no sorry broken soul you can comfort so you feel better! So you have completed your good deed a day! I am fine. I am better than fine. So thanks, but no thanks. Don’t need it. Phck off.’

That actually worked. The android blinked at him, obviously processing, before apologising and heading over to where Connor and Hank had sat down. Gavin got back on his seat, too and took a large gulp of his coffee. As he sat the mug down, he stared into a grinning face. ‘What?’ ‘So aggressive’, Tina laughed. ‘Dude, the guy just wanted to be nice.’ ‘Oh, did he?’, Gavin grumbled and tried to get an inconspicuous look at the android. Of course, he had chosen the same moment Richard had looked over at him, so he quickly turned back around. ‘Yes’, Tina chuckled. ‘You don’t know how annoying he can be. Replacing you being unfair is the one topic he can’t shut up about.’ ‘Perfect’, Gavin sighed, but couldn’t keep his thoughts in check. Had this android really tried to advocate for someone he didn’t even know? ‘Yeah, always said how after going through your open cases and notes, he couldn’t believe someone fired you. He thinks you are some kind of genius I think.’ ‘Oh, wow, an android has a work-crush on me’, Gavin over-exaggerated and rolled his eyes. ‘Hey, you wouldn’t be that far from the truth there’, Tina shrugged. ‘”Gavin Reed would not have” is like every second sentence of his. It’s cute actually. And ever since you put him in his place just now, he is staring at you, that fancy mood-light turning yellow.’ ‘It’s what-‘ Gavin turned around, cursing when he stared in his eyes again: ‘Shit! What’s his problem? Anyways, you wanted to tell me more about Steph. Please. I beg you. Ramble about your soon to be girlfriend, I want to think about anything but this android.’

Richard on the other hand knew exactly what his problem was. He had exactly 335 software instabilities and errors to keep track of while he couldn’t keep his eyes off this human. He had known the man to be remarkable. But after that reaction? Oh, he definitely had to get to know him better. So, long after the human had left the shop and even after he had driven home, Richard was still planning how to see the man again. Maybe Tina had been right. Maybe he truly had a crush.

[>next part]

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #Gavin Reed #Tina Chen #RK900 #Okay but honestly investigative journalist!Gavin would be something I would love to read more about #but I'd guess AO3 doesn't have anything on that #let's see #Also soft!Nines hell yes

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vantaenims · 4 years

Text

anemoia | jungkook

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: futuristic au | fluff, mystery

word count: 11.7k

warning/s: mentions of death and a bit of a make out session (oh my).

summary: It’s a well known fact that a person only dreams about people they’ve already seen in their life but how come you’re dreaming about someone you’ve never seen before, someone who is probably a person your subconscious created, and someone that continues to only exist in your dreams.

Part of BTSGhostieBingo (futuristic!au prompt)

masterlist

According to a study, as much as 95% of all dreams are quickly forgotten shortly after waking.

Reverie is a helpful device where you can securely store your dreams and archive them by syncing the device through the Reverie Application. With other built-in features, you can now customize how your dream works by choosing your desired location and inputting any character you want to appear in your dream.

With Reverie, you can build your own dreams.

You slid the switch to turn on the device and a blinking blue light is now visible on it’s side though it was only for a moment as you successfully paired the device with your phone and the application.

As usual, you registered for an account and input the required necessary information but what piqued your interest the most are the so called built-in features like the location where you can choose from various choices like beach, urban city, garden, festivals, etc. and lastly, the characters, wherein you should input a picture of a person that you like to appear in your dream.

This is the reason why you’re so keen in purchasing Reverie because it’ll be the only way you can actually see your late mother in limitless ways. You barely remember your memories with her since she passed away from Ovarian Cancer when you were only four - an age where memories can be pretty hazy.

You can only remember her through pictures and stories your father has told you so it’ll be a joy to at least watch your dreams with her in it or perhaps watch the memories you’ve invented.

Spreading the covers, you soon get in your bed as you ready yourself to sleep, clicking the Reverie app to choose your location in a garden and clicking the picture of your mother you uploaded a while ago as your character.

You placed your phone on your nightstand as soon as you finalized your dream customization, putting the Reverie device on your temple while you managed to lay down on your bed, tapping the circle device as you close your eyes until you can finally sleep and dream.

All you could see are stars in the wide vast dark sky, they’re so clear and bright since there are no clouds to cover them for tonight but you could definitely feel most the cold wind of the night enveloping you though you could feel the warmth of the person next to you - your mom.

“How are you, my dear?” you turn your head to the side to see your mom plucking some leaves around the stem of a red rose, “You’ve grown to be such a beautiful lady.”

You were suddenly hit with a surge of overwhelming emotions, thinking how the moment feels so vivid and real like it’s really taking place right now though you’re fully aware that this is only projection of your subconscious.

“You look perfect just like what dad told me” you smiled as you got the red rose from your mother’s hand, twirling it to examine it’s petals.

“How old are you now?”

“I’m turning 23 this year” you held your mother’s hand that was right by your side, squeezing it as you moved closer to rest your head on her shoulder, both laying down in the middle of the garden to stargaze.

“Ten years from now you’re gonna be the same age as me”

“Aren’t you like 52 now just like dad?” you peered up at your mom but then surprisingly, she looks too young to be in her early fifties.

“The dead doesn’t age, dear” your mom chuckled as she kissed your forehead whilst she pointed her fingers towards the sky, “We’re all up there amongst the stars where i constantly watch you from above”

“Heaven does exist?” you said like a curious child.

“I suppose so but you see that little twinkling star right there?” you nodded as you listened attentively to what more she could say, “I’m always right there.”

“Can i look at that star whenever i feel lonely?”

Your mom warmly smiled, grabbing the rose from you as she broke the stem to make it shorter, placing it right behind your ear whilst she thread her fingers soothingly along your hair to fix it.

“You can and not just when you’re lonely but whenever you feel happy or whatever it is you feel. I’ll always be here for you, my dear.”

You woke up not too long after your mother had said that which instantly made you feel better though you felt like the dream’s too short and only happened in a span of five minutes but then time seems to be irrelevant when you’re dreaming since it’s clearly morning now and it has been seven hours since you slept.

So far, you could say that the Reverie delivered and met your expectations. The dream was lucid and felt so realistic which happens to be true to what the device promised though they have warned that the flow will not be consistently like that as it’s in the nature of our dreams to be purely irrational and weird which something the company is trying to eliminate by continuous extensive research.

You start your day ahead with a wide smile on your face, feeling exquisitely happy that you got the chance to spend time with your mother even though it’s just a dream but if it’s the only way you could get to be with your mother then that’s what matters.

You rung the doorbell of the veterinary clinic which is the place you’re working for as a receptionist - a job you took since you’ve gotten practically bored being unproductive halfway into your gap year so might as well apply for a job that doesn’t require much work plus you figured that it’d be fun since you’ll get to be around lovely dogs and cats all day long.

“You’re early” you smiled back at Hoseok who happens to be the veterinary doctor and the owner of the clinic, so practically he’s your boss though he’s rather much of a friend to you given how he’s just a few years older from you.

“Good morning”, you said, “Is Jimin still not here?”

Jimin is also a veterinary doctor much like Hoseok but he’s acting more of an assistant doctor in this clinic.

“He bought some pastries down the bakery” you nodded as you settled yourself inside your booth, opening the computer to check the appointments scheduled for today in the spreadsheet until you noticed Mickey - Hoseok’s Shih Tzu dog - sitting on the floor right beside your feet, staring up at you.

“Hello, Mickey”, you spoke in a little voice as you picked him up and placed him in your lap to pet him, noticing how he’s wearing a new striped shirt, “You have new clothes, hm?”

The chimes attached to the door rang as you see Jimin entering the clinic whilst he rummages around the paper bag he’s holding until he holds out what seems to be like cheese bread to you.

“I got this for you,” Jimin said as he placed the cheese bread and iced coffee on your desk, “And for you” also giving the same thing to Hoseok.

“Thank you Jimin but you don’t have to”

“Eat up besides all the pastries in the bakery today are buy two, get one” Jimin sweetly smiled at you, leaning one of his elbows on top of your desk as he took a bite off the cheese bread.

“What’s the schedule for today?” Hoseok asked as he joined Jimin, also leaning against your desk.

“Ms. Nam Chung Hee scheduled an annual booster shot for her two dogs at 2 p.m.” you said as you read out through your computer.

“Does she already have a record here?”

“Yeah, I checked yesterday” you spun your chair to rack through the filing cabinet, taking out the folder with the client’s name on it as you handed it to Hoseok.

You set down Mickey on the floor as you stood up to grab the remote of the television from your desk, turning it on and setting the channel to National Geographic for the guests to watch in the waiting area.

With nothing else to do, you sat behind the reception desk as you took out your phone to go to the Reverie app, thinking it’d be best to kill time whilst you watch your dream from last night. You plugged in your earphones to your phone, putting only one piece of it to your right ear just so you could still be aware of your surroundings.

Clicking on the video dated yesterday, you instantly saw the familiar starry night sky though you could already tell that the video quality is bad but not bad enough that you can’t make it out - it’s more of like a 144p video, it’s not like you could complain though as Reverie is said to be still up for improvement.

Despite how blurry it is, you smiled as soon as your mother’s face appeared on your screen, listening back to your conversation on how she’s the little twinkling star on the sky but then you were disrupted when you heard the door chimes, causing you to remove your earphones and placing your phone back to the desk.

“Hi, i scheduled yesterday a booster shot for my dogs”

“Ah yes, you must be Ms. Nam?” you asked as she nodded her head to confirm, thinking that she’s a few hours early from an appointment but it’s not like a problem at all considering you don’t have any clients or customers yet to attend to.

“Can I have your dog’s vaccination cards please?”

You prompted her to sit in the waiting area for a while as you wrote down the information on your records that you have detached from the folder to put it in a clipboard along with the vaccination cards, reading out the name of the two Maltese dogs - Blossom and Bubbles.

“Here are their records, I'll be calling Hoseok” you handed the clipboard towards Jimin who just got out of the bathroom right in time as you were about to call him and Hoseok.

“Dr. Park will assist you for a while” you said before you disappeared to go to Hoseok’s office, knocking your knuckles against the door before you peered your head inside to inform Hoseok that Ms. Nam had arrived for her appointment.

“Oh it’s the Powerpuff dogs, Blossom and Bubbles” Hoseok exclaimed as he read out their names in the record that Jimin handed to him, petting the dogs who are now placed in the metal table.

“Y/N, can I have one of those record sheets? There are only two lines left for me to write in here” you looked back to see that Jimin had followed you on your way back towards your desk.

“Is there a Buttercup?” you asked as you handed Jimin a blank record sheet. Jimin was confused for a moment until he catched on to what you are referring to.

“Ah no, she said she’ll save that name for when she gets another dog” Jimin smiled and raised his eyebrows at you before he went back to the room to assist Hoseok.

You sat down as you put back the folders of records you got out from the filing cabinet, unaware that you started to subconsciously hum to the song Build Me Up Buttercup by The Foundations.

You sat on one of the benches under the waiting shed, taking out your phone to watch again the clip of your dream but before you could even unlock your phone, the sound of the bus doors opening caught your attention. Coincidentally, it happened to be your bus hence you stood up to enter inside, choosing the seat at the far right end, continuing the video once you’ve sat yourself comfortably.

As you got yourself comfortable, you then started to watch your dream and you think you don’t mind replaying it all day long, still finding the whole thing impressive. You can’t help but feel excited for the memories and moments you’ll build in the future with your mother, not minding a bit that it’ll be artificial.

Surprisingly, you arrived at the bus stop near your home earlier than usual, thinking that you must’ve avoided the rush hour since Hoseok decided to close the clinic twenty minutes early from it’s closing time since there are not much clients after Ms. Nam’s appointments, just the usual customers who are buying pet foods are coming to the clinic.

You managed to stop by a convenience store first to buy two pints of salted caramel ice cream for you and your dad whom you’re still living with since you promised to him that you’ll not be moving out anytime soon unless you get married that is. You were an only child so ever since your mom died, it was only you and your dad.

“Dad, I’m home” you left your shoes at the door mat, slipping on to your slippers as you directly went to the dining room upon whiffing something savory once you entered the door.

“Oh you��re right in time, i just finished preparing the smoked salmon” your dad said, placing the plates on the table.

“It looks delicious”, you eyed the salmon which is plated and designed elegantly, making it such a fine piece of meal with the presentation alone, “and it tastes one too.”

Your dad works as an executive chef for a five star hotel in Seoul which makes you lucky since you got to taste their premium menu specialties and other delicacies for free once in a while, like tonight since he took a day off.

“Eat as much as you want, I've prepared enough. In fact, why don’t you bring some at work tomorrow and also give it to those two doctors…” your dad looked as if he’s trying hard to recall the name of your co-workers.

“Jimin and Hoseok” you laughed as you reminded him.

“Give it to Jimin and Hoseok, i’ll put it in a microwavable container so that you could heat it up”

You warmly smiled at your dad at how caring he is, placing your hand on top of your dad’s on the table, squeezing it with yours, “Thanks, Dad.”

“You know, i just remember that i’ve never seen them yet” your dad said, “They must be good looking huh? I mean a doctor ain’t a bad choice is it?”

You stopped chewing as you playfully glared at your dad, knowing where this conversation is heading.

“Dad, it’s inappropriate if i go beyond our professional relationship” you shook your head, thinking how you dad has countlessly pestered you about getting a boyfriend since he thought that your life is pretty lonely for a 22 year old girl who chose to spent most of her time with his dad whom he’s still living with which you’re pretty content with but your dad must’ve thought the other way around.

“I just want you to be happy, that’s all”

“Being single doesn’t equate to being lonely” you clarified, “Anyway, I am happy so don’t worry about that plus I’ll eventually find someone.”

“Well, you’re not getting any younger and it’s probably what your mom wants for you too” your dad shrugged, looking at you and then to your plate where your asparagus seems to be untouched.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?”

“You know that i don’t eat asparagus, dad”

“It’s glazed in honey though, try it you might like it”

You picked up your fork to try the honey glazed asparagus but it still tastes wrong to you and your dad must’ve noticed when he saw you scrunch your nose in disgust, shaking your head in disapproval.

“You’re like a little child” your dad sighed as he transferred the asparagus into his plate to eat it.

Majority of your dinner was spent with your dad asking you loads of questions about Jimin and Hoseok, defending himself that he just wants to know the boys that are working with his precious girl. Defeatedly, you have no choice but to answer his questions as you both eat over the pint of ice cream you’ve bought.

After you’ve washed the dishes, you wished your dad good night even though it’s still pretty early for bedtime, heading straight away to your room to wash up and ready yourself for bed. It’s funny how you’ve never been this excited to sleep except the times when you’re sleep deprived.

As you plopped on your bed, you then grabbed your device from your nightstand to turn it on as you plug in your phone to your charger, opening the Reverie app to pair it with your phone but then a tab suddenly appeared as it got paired.

Would you like to continue your dream?

Confused, you got the manual inside your drawer to find out that you could continue your previous dream for two times only as the brain could only take so much. You declined the option to continue since you want to try first the other locations.

Train Station is what you choose since you plan to travel around Seoul with your mom. As soon as you got to choose the location and character, you placed the device on your temple as you try to sleep.

You soon found yourself in front of the ticket vending machine, getting the cards from the machine’s dispenser.

“Let’s go” your mom said as she got on the escalator, prompting you to hurriedly catch up with her, “Hurry, the train’s about to leave.”

You run up the escalator, excusing yourself as you try to catch up with your mom who’s already standing on the platform but then the train doors had closed already as soon as you step foot onto the platform.

“It’s okay, let’s just sit and wait for the next one”, your mom said as she sat down on the bench, tapping the seat next to hers for you to sit.

“Where should we go?” you asked but you were rather met with silence. Looking to your right, you noticed that she’s no longer sitting beside you. Furrowing your brows, your scan around the platform as you search for your mom but it’s as if she just suddenly disappeared into thin air.

The clinking sound of coins hitting against the ground has caught your attention, turning your head to the side to see an old man bending down to pick up his coins whilst one of his coins managed to roll towards your direction, only stopping as it bumped the side of your shoes.

You picked it up as you went over to the old man to give it until he smiled at you, stopping your hand that’s about to give him his coin.

“Keep the change” he chuckled as he rode the elevator, leaving you there with his ₩100 coin.

Shrugging, you then played with the coin in your hand, tossing it just to catch it mid-air to slam it at the back of your hand. You then removed your hand to reveal that it landed on tails.

You grasped the coin in your hand as you watch the train pick up its speed by the second, setting aside your hair that has made its way to your face from the gush of wind until the rumbling sounds of the train completely faded out in the distance making the station a quiet and calm place once again.

Once again, you heard the clinking sound of the coin hitting the ground, realizing that it fell off your hand at the sight of a boy at the other side of the platform who seemed to be staring straight at you. You looked at your sides to see if you were mistaken but it looks like you’re the only one standing on your side of the platform much like him.

But then he broke eye contact as he walked towards the stairs of the station, causing you to rush towards the stairs so that you’ll be able to catch him before he’s out of your sight. Thankfully, you managed to grab his arm before he could pass through the turnstile. You felt him tense a bit as you touched him, turning around to look at you with a surprised look on his face that instantly turned into confusion once you spoke.

“Jungkook” you whispered.

Suddenly, an odd blaring sound blasted throughout the station, jolting you up from reality that the sound you happened to hear came from your phone. You extend your hand towards the nightstand to grab it, snoozing the alarm.

Sitting up, you open your bleary eyes as you remove the device from your temple, staring at it for the weird dream you’ve just encountered but dreams are supposed to be weird isn’t it? But how come everyone’s faces are blurry except for your mother and that boy - Jungkook - whom you followed after.

It’s not like you’ve ever seen that face or know anyone whose name is Jungkook but you shrugged the idea off, remembering the warning in the manual that dreams don’t consistently flow smoothly since it’s in the dreams nature to be purely irrational and weird though you can’t help but wonder about the boy that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Who is Jungkook?

You found yourself sitting in the waiting lounge, watching some sort of a Moose Documentary in National Geographic Channel. The battery from the remote control ran out so it’s not like you have any choice but to watch whatever’s playing but it’s not like it’s bad at all, you just happen to learn that Mooses can dive up to six meters or twenty feet and they can hold their breath for a minute!

The door chimes rung, making you dart your attention towards the door. A young boy who looks to be thirteen came in with a Beagle Pup on his arms, stopping in front of your desk with quite a lost look upon noticing that the reception is empty with quite a worried look on his face.

“Hi, how can i help you?” you stood up, instantly going behind your desk to assist the young boy.

“I think he’s not feeling well” the boy lightly cradles and bounces the puppy like a parent trying to calm a baby.

“Well, can you explain to me what’s wrong?”

“He’s been constantly vomiting since this morning and i think he’s getting weaker by the second”

“Let me just call the doctor” you said, standing up to go directly to Hoseok’s office to inform him and Jimin who’s also in the room that there’s an emergency waiting for them outside.

“Do you have a record in here yet?” you asked the boy as you got behind your desk to ready the clipboard for Jimin.

“Uh I don’t know he’s actually my sister’s dog”

“Okay, what’s her name then?” you smiled, noticing how he’s panicking a bit but he sighed in relief once he saw her sister come through inside the clinic, helping her brother to give out the necessary details.

Jimin then assisted them to go inside the room for the check up whilst you followed them to give Jimin his clipboard, giving you a chance to witness Hoseok question the siblings when the symptoms appeared while he assessed the dog’s condition. making you leave the room to go back to your desk now that your task is done.

You went back behind your desk, continuing to watch the documentary whilst you eat some sliced apples that your dad prepared for you, saying that you should start eating healthy foods rather than fast food you’ve always been eating.

“What happened?” you asked just as Jimin got out of the room.

“The dog’s dehydrated and he needs to be put in a drip so he’ll be confined here for a while until he gets better”, Jimin explained as he placed the clipboard on top of your desk and then grabbed the fork to eat one of your sliced apples.

Soon after, the girl got out of the room as he handed you a piece of paper that happens to be a prescription and also the list of supplies needed for the dog’s in confinement that was written by Hoseok.

“Are you getting all this?” you peered up towards her just before you could write it in an official receipt to which she confirmed by nodding.

“Should i bring his dog food here?” The man asked you but Jimin beat you to it to answer him.

“Yeah, you can but you could also just buy some here, you know to save you some legwork” Jimin smiled as you purse your lips from smiling further at Jimin’s tactic of encouraging customers to buy your products.

“Sure, could you add the dog food too” she said to you, nodding as you wrote down the additional item before you ripped the receipt to give it to her and also the calling card, informing her that she could call anytime for updates about her dog.

The siblings soon leave after they’ve watched Bruno - the name of the Beagle - put on a drip with Hoseok assuring them that he’ll be treated with proper care. You then volunteered to be the one to bring the beagle his food, saying how it’s the least thing you could do to help Hoseok and Jimin.

You came into the room where the beagle is supposedly being confined inside a cage that’s large enough for him to fit as you carry the bowl filled with dog food.

“Here you go” you said once you opened the cage and placed the bowl in front of Bruno who appears to be lethargic as he did not make any move to eat the food, only looking up at you with it’s such big adorable puppy eyes.

“You’ll be better soon” you gently petted the base of his neck.

Before you could stand up and leave, you picked up the card that’s placed atop of the cage as you wrote down the time on the card which is meant for monitoring his food intake and other medications.

“I’ll get going” you said to Jimin while you grab your belongings behind your desk.

“Alright, be safe and tell your dad we enjoyed his smoked salmon”

“Sure thing” you waved as you exited the clinic, making your way down to the bus stop to finally go home.

—

Would you like to continue your dream?

You were instantly reminded of your bizzare dream last night about that boy named Jungkook who you don’t even know and also clueless as to why you followed and chased him down.

Nonetheless, you tapped the ‘No’ option since you planned a while ago that you want to have some kind of a nice dinner setting in a restaurant with both of your parents present since you’ve been wanting to have a clear memory of having your family complete.

Laying down, you did the routine of setting up Reverie and next thing you know, you’re in one of those fancy restaurants located on the rooftop where the view of the towering skyscrapers of Seoul mixed in with the city lights. It took you awhile to register that you’re inside the five star hotel where your dad is working at.

“What must be your dad cooking for us hm?”

Sitting in front of you is none other than your mom who seems to be fashionably dressed well in a straight black dress paired with a dainty pearl necklace and earrings, hair perfectly styled that stops right just at her shoulders.

“Probably something delicious”

“Isn’t it nice we get to eat here? Who knew that your dad’s perks could come in handy” your mom chuckled as she looked around the expansive room that you guessed to be one of the private rooms since you’re the only ones inside.

You looked around to examine that the two sides of the room are glass walled while it’s also well lit thanks to the big elegant chandelier hanging in the middle of the room but most of all, it’s perfectly beautiful because of the night sky view from up here.

Suddenly, the door to your right opened as a waiter who’s holding a tray came inside to place the plate filled with smoked salmon paired with honey glazed asparagus in front of you, speaking to say that it’s the main dish for tonight.

“How are you two doing?” your dad said, following suit to enter the room.

“I thought you’ll be joining us” you said once you noticed that your dad’s still wearing his uniform.

“It’s a pretty busy night, I'll try to catch up later” your dad said, “besides why don’t you first enjoy your time with Jungkook here?”

You took a glance in front of you to see that your mother has now been replaced with Jungkook whose exchanging a few words with your father as if they’ve known each other for a very long time, making you confused to decipher how your dream got weird again but mostly surprised to see Jungkook appear.

“I’ll leave you two for now, okay?” your dad left you a kiss on top of your head whilst he patted Jungkook’s back as he exited the door to go back to the kitchen thus leaving you two alone.

“I remember how you always boast about your father’s cooking skills and I must say, you’re not exaggerating even a bit”

“See, I told you so” you said even though you’re partly confused because the you in your dreams always manages to act dominantly.

“Would you like some wine?” you peered up at the source to see that a waiter’s waiting for your confirmation before he poured some wine on both of your glasses when you sent him a nod.

“Let’s make a toast” Jungkook said as he raised his glass at you but then you were confused to say the least.

“For what? It’s not our anniversary, right?” you asked, suddenly growing anxious that you might’ve forgotten that today’s supposed to be special but you do know that your anniversary as a couple is months away.

“How could you forget this?” Jungkook asked, chuckling as he widened his eyes at you in disbelief, “It has been a year since the day we met!”

“Has it been a year already?”

Jungkook hummed as he transferred your untouched asparagus into his plate once he devoured all of his portion but then he glanced up at you to see just as he’s about to eat a piece of your asparagus.

“What? You don’t like asparagus” Jungkook said in an unfazed manner, happily munching on his food as he hummed in delight until he remembered the untouched glass of wine. He wiped his mouth hurriedly with the napkin to grab the wine glass.

“Cheers?” Jungkook said with his mouth still full, smiling as he placed his hand atop of yours, thumb lightly grazing against your skin.

“Cheers”

Adjusting yourself on your seat, you propped your elbow against the desk as you leaned your head over your hand, watching the dream from last night wherein your mom magically disappeared out of nowhere and was instead replaced with Jungkook who you assume is your ‘boyfriend’ in your dream.

You’re still unaware as to why he appeared in your dream for the second time again that’s why it prompted you to search on the internet if Reverie users have experienced the same thing as you but there was none so far.

But you know for sure that dreams are heavily influenced on what happened to you in real life thus the reason you were eating the smoked salmon dish with asparagus because of that dinner you had with your dad one day ago and also the reason why he’s your boyfriend because of that talk with your dad.

Sighing, you stand up as you leave your desk to sit beside Jimin who’s watching a movie in the waiting area.

“Do you want some?” Jimin stretched his hand that’s holding a pack of peanuts. You held out your palm to him as he poured over some nuts until it’s enough for your liking.

“Thanks” you said as you popped them into your mouth, “Jimin…”

“Hmm?” you were a bit hesitant if you should talk to Jimin about Reverie since it gained a bad image with one news outlet saying that the device’s original purpose got taken out of its context and was instead converted into something controversial - it was now being used by others to satisfy their sexual fantasies.

“What do you think about Reverie?” you shyly said.

“The dreaming device?” Jimin asked, “I don’t know much about it except that everyone uses it to dream about wild things, why?”

Well, it looks like that article broke out the internet already and it made you even more bashful to open up to Jimin that you’ve purchased the device yourself even though you know that you’re using it for another reason.

“I, um, bought it”

Jimin peered his eyes away from the television as he looked at you with his eyebrows raised, momentarily stopping himself from munching down the peanuts.

“I mean i have it since you know, my mom died a long time ago and it’s the only way i could only see her” you defended yourself, feeling a bit embarrassed from how you talked so fast.

“Well, I thought you bought it for another reason” Jimin chuckled, “How is it?”

“It’s good, i get to see my mom anytime i want but then it started getting weird recently” you purse your lips as you contemplate if it’ll be a good idea to tell him the boy in your dream - Jungkook.

“Go on”, Jimin said, urging you to continue.

“I was dreaming about my mom but then a boy would constantly take her place but what’s weird is that i called him ‘Jungkook’ and i don’t even know anyone who has that name”

“What does he look like then?”

“Well, he has big doe eyes, sharp nose, nice smile and i must admit, he looks quite handsome and cute at the same time” you think you’ve imprinted the image of him in your mind with the amount of times you’ve replayed the video as you try to ponder if you’ve ever seen Jungkook before but nothing came in mind.

“Sounds like he’s a sexual fantasy of yours” you threw the rest of your peanuts at Jimin as he doubled in laughter.

“But jokes aside, do you think you could vividly dream about a person you didn’t know in the first place?” you curiously asked as you waited for Jimin to calm down from his laughing fit, adjusting himself on his seat as he properly answered you.

“No? I mean, maybe those are the physical traits you like in a person and your subconscious just so happened to create this ‘Jungkook’ guy” Jimin said.

“You think so?”

“Don’t take it from me though, I’m a veterinarian not a neurologist” you shrugged, returning your attention back on the television.

After the credits rolled on the television, you went inside the room where Bruno is to give him the food and water he needs just before you leave the clinic. He seems to be getting better but it was still clear that he’s still weak at some point.

“Hello, Bruno” you pet his head, cooing as his head leaned further to your touch.

It reminded you of that time when you would endlessly beg your dad to get a dog, reasoning out that you’re tired of having no one to play with as the only child you are and that a dog was your best bet in having a playmate or so although that did not fully convince for your dad to get you one.

That only resulted for you to ignore your dad for a few days as the brat you are until he came home with a cage where a hamster resides rather than the dog you’re wishing for but it’s enough for you to smile at your dad, thanking him for the new pet.

You mutter a goodbye to the Beagle, standing up to go towards the door when you get suddenly surprised by Hoseok when his head suddenly peeked inside the door.

“Y/N, could you help us for awhile?” Hoseok said, resting his shoulders on the door frame.

“Are you going to put up some Christmas decorations?” you said as soon as you saw the box he’s carrying where a ‘Christmas Stuff’ is labelled on the front with a permanent marker.

“Yeah, it’ll be just quick though” Hoseok reassured you since the clinic already closed a few minutes ago.

“Alright” you grabbed the box from Hoseok, exiting the room to find Jimin already setting up the mini Christmas Tree in the waiting area.

“How many days is it before Christmas?” you asked, standing up on a chair as you try to stick the garland against the walls.

“Uh twenty nine days” Jimin grabbed the rest of the garland as he assisted you.

“Oh really? Time must’ve passed by quickly”

“Yeah, days are shorter during this time of the year so maybe that’s why” Hoseok shrugged as he embellished the Christmas Tree with some decorative balls.

It was spring when you started to work in the clinic which means that it has also been mostly eight or nine months since your stay. You were only supposed to work here for six months but you’ve quite enjoyed it that you managed to delay applying for a job in your field, thinking how you’re going to complete a year in the clinic before you do so.

—

Sitting on your bed, you managed to turn the television on to continue the movie you were watching last weekend whilst you slurp over the instant noodles you’ve cooked yourself as your late lunch since your dad isn’t home as he usually is this time since his work demands him to be present in days like the weekend and holidays.

That’s the great thing about Sundays, it’s the only day you could have the whole day for yourself considering you only have to work until 12 p.m. in the clinic today and you can lounge around your house just by yourself, not that you don’t like the presence of your dad but you guess you’re one of those people who prefers alone time.

You turned off the television once you felt the burning like sensation from your eyes probably because you’ve taken only four hours of sleep last night. Plopping down your head sideways on your pillow, the device came into your sight, remembering how you forgot to wear it last night from how tired you are from decorating the clinic.

The conversation you had with Jimin yesterday came flashing back when he told you that it could be a probability that Jungkook is a character made by your subconscious and Jimin’s not wrong when he told you that Jungkook might be just a reflection of what you want in a person because you could say he’s piqued your interest.

Would you like to continue your dream?

You clicked the ‘No’ option right away as you still find the whole thing quite odd though you’re quite unfazed by now. It has been a while since that first vivid dream you had with your mom so that’s why you hope Reverie won’t alter your dream though that’ll be highly unlikely.

The fireplace is the first thing you saw in your dream, Christmas decorations and picture frames filled the mantel though you can’t completely make out who the individuals in the pictures are but you’re sure it’s someone else’s house.

“What is your dream?”

You looked sideways to see your mom sitting beside you on the sofa as she sipped something on a mug after she had said that statement, the snow outside the window catching your attention for a second before you looked back at your mom with a quite confused look.

“Like my dream in life?” your mom nodded, intently looking at you.

“I dream of having my own business someday” you said, “But i’m still not sure what kind of business it’ll be?”

“Your dad’s a chef, why don’t you hire him and build a restaurant?” your mom suggested, making you laugh at her suggestion though you think you’re going to consider it into one of your ideas.

“What about you mom?” you laid down on your mom’s lap as you looked up at her whilst she softly caressed your hair, straying out some strands of your hair that had made way into your face.

“I dreamt about having a beautiful daughter when me and your dad got married and look you’re here”

“Isn’t it sad we only get to be together for three years?” you frowned.

“Out of all the years i’ve lived, those three years are the most precious thing that happened to me and it’s because of you, my dear”

You think you must’ve shed some tears as your mom wiped the corners of your eyes with her thumb, gently smiling at you as she told you not to be sad but to be happy.

“There’s a dream I have for you but I could only do so much,” she said, staring straight ahead at something. Your eyes are about to look at where she’s looking at but she held your face gently just before you could turn your head, “Always remember to follow your dreams.”

You could tell when your dream is about to end, it’s when the scene in front of you dims slowly into the void and that’s what’s happening right now but before you could slowly succumb into consciousness, your mom squeezed your hand tightly as if to remind you one last time.

“Follow your dream.”

Tears ran down your face once you opened your eyes, noticing that your tears are what must’ve woken you up. You’ve cried for a bit, thinking how unfortunate it is that she’s gone and how you’ve greatly missed her.

After you’ve calmed, you grab the device as you stick it once again on your temple to continue your dream to ask her about the dream she has for you and also taking advantage of it now that Jungkook didn’t manage to appear.

You found yourself once again in front of the fireplace when you chose to continue your dream. It looks exactly the same when you left although you could hear some Christmas songs playing now and the space beside you where your mom should be seating is now empty.

“I have a surprise for you”

A voice said that doesn’t belong to your mom but you definitely know that it’s Jungkook who seems to be covering your eyes with both of his hands as he whispers into your ear, his breath tickling you a bit.

“What is it?”

“I’ll have to get it first” he said, “Promise me you’ll close your eyes?”

Jungkook took off his hands once you gave him a nod though you’re tempted to open your eyes to see what the surprise is, you tried your best to be obedient and soon enough, you heard his footsteps in front of you.

“Okay, you can open them now”

Jungkook’s hair is now dyed pink like cotton candy pink which caught you by surprise but that’s not what surprised you more because your eyes immediately panned towards the adorable thing he’s cradling like a baby in his arms.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Oh my god a puppy?” you said in awe as you stretched out your hand for Jungkook so that you could cradle it instead though he more of placed it on your lap, making you coo how the Beagle pup is trying to remove the red ribbon that’s loosely tied around its neck with its cute tiny paws.

“I remember when you told me that you wanted a dog ever since you were a kid” Jungkook scratched his head, sitting down beside you who seems to be so caught up with the puppy as you giggled at how playful it is.

“Let’s call her Buttercup” Jungkook didn’t question you for the name as he instead admired how the big smile on your face made him feel so much warmth in his chest, perhaps it’s because from the sense of pride that he’s the reason behind your happiness although it’s somewhat more of the puppy who's still on your lap.

“Your gift is much better than mine, I feel bad” you playfully frowned.

“Don’t be, what is it then?”

“It’s in my house, you’ll get to see tomorrow” you winked, thinking if he would even like yours which is a newly released game he’s been dying to play ever since it was announced plus some quirky love note on the side as the low key romantic person you are.

It never even crossed your mind to consider if Jungkook might’ve bought it already, so it’ll be really lame of you if he ever has it though you think he hasn't got it yet when you clearly remember scanning his shelf filled with his games when you came by his house. You can’t help but be worried but if that’s the case then the love note might as well work then.

“Hey, you’re already a gift to me” Jungkook tilted your chin upwards so his eyes could meet your worried ones.

“You’re so mushy” you laughed, gently tilting Jungkook’s head to the side so he can stop staring at you like that, like he’s so into you and it’s making you want to hide and shy away from his stare, “Anyways, thank you-”

“I love you”

You were dumbfounded for a while as you try to process those three words that just came out of Jungkook’s mouth. Your dad wasn’t lying when he told you the time he felt his world stopped when your mom said those words to him for the first time because fuck, this is indeed the first time Jungkook said this to you and you felt like your heart stopped beating too.

“I just wanted to tell you and y-you don’t have to say it back” Jungkook stammered, panic settling within him.

Jungkook’s the one who’s more expressive in your relationship, the one who’s more romantic and cheesier than you while you’re more of an awkward and shy one since Jungkook is your first boyfriend. Not that you don’t love him the same but you’re quite not sure how to properly show affection to him none other than through letters and notes that is.

Impulsively, you cupped Jungkook’s cheek as you leaned in further until your lips were mashed together that’s why it’s understandable that Jungkook’s not been responding to you for a while, possibly shock that you initiated to kiss him when it was always him who’s used to kissing you first.

Jungkook then smiled as he kissed you back, taking it up a notch when he grabbed your waist towards him, making you straddle him as you put one hand on his shoulder whilst the other is on his neck where you’re gently caressing his hair, making him audibly emit a low hum against your lips, shy at how that got you so bothered.

You felt the warmth of his hands more after it had made its way under the base of your shirt, thumb gently grazing on your skin above your hip bone where he drew circling motions on it, making you emit a chuckle at how ticklish it feels yet it’s enough for you to melt more into the kiss.

Jungkook detached his lips to yours to pepper your chin with kisses instead then making his way to the side of your jaw where he left a trail of wet kisses, eyes closing from pleasure and how good it felt until you got distracted by Buttercup’s bark.

“Wait” you gently pushed Jungkook back by his shoulders so you could look at what’s bothering the puppy who seems to be running back and forth towards the edge of the sofa and practically just barking at the floor, taking a look to see that there’s nothing on the floor which left you to think of what could possibly be bothering her.

“She wants to go down but it’s too high for her” Jungkook helped you out.

You scooped Buttercup up so you could finally place her down on the floor whilst Jungkook held you in place by tightening his hold on your waist so you wouldn’t fall.

With the barking gone, you then smiled, proceeding to continue the heated kiss you shared with Jungkook but not for long as you opened your eyes in panic when you realized something that made you break the kiss once again, removing your weight on Jungkook’s lap to sit instead next to his side, making him furrowed his brows in worry at you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your parents and your brother could walk in any minute!” you whispered at him, fearing that you might get caught making out with Jungkook in their living room and it’s not good, not when you just met his family.

Jungkook’s family lives in Busan that’s why it took so long for you to actually meet them personally. The reason you’re also here is because you and Jungkook both agreed that you’ll celebrate Christmas Eve with Jungkook’s family while he will then celebrate Christmas itself with you and your dad tomorrow.

“Let’s go to my room then” Jungkook said as he kissed your cheek, standing up whilst he pulled your arm to get up and follow him upstairs. You were at the end of the stairs when you heard tiny whimpers coming from the living room.

“Oh no, how could I forget?” you let go of Jungkook’s hand as you briskly walked towards the living room to pick up Buttercup, pecking her kisses and muttering apologies for forgetting and leaving her all alone in the living room.

Once you're back on his side, Jungkook pulled you in by the waist to give you a peck on the lips but he must’ve got carried away as he tried to deepen it, not that you could blame him if it’s addicting in the first place only for Buttercup to ruin the moment again as she barked, causing you two to break away.

“I’m starting to think Buttercup doesn’t like it when i kiss you, hm?” Jungkook said, cupping the Beagle’s head as he glared at her, “Shouldn't you be nice to your dad?”

You watch as Jungkook continuously played with the puppy on your arms, finding it cute that Jungkook just referred to himself as Buttercup’s dad which made him more endearingly adorable if that’s possible.

“I love you too, Jungkook”

You’d like to believe that Jungkook felt his whole world stopped too just like what happened to you when you noticed how he’s staring at you with wide eyes and mouth agape until he placed a hand on his chest, dramatically heaving a relieved sigh.

“Thank god, I thought i’d be raising this puppy all by myself” you gently shoved Jungkook’s shoulder as he put his hand above where you hit him, face contorting in pain as if he really got hurt, making you chuckle more at his silliness.

“Just lead the way” you pushed him with your free hands when he made no move to go up at all.

“Alright, someone’s too eager” Jungkook doubled in laughter once he felt a slap against his back.

“I love you” he said, stealing a kiss right before he dashed up the stairs.

You joined Jimin and Hoseok in the waiting area, sighing as you stretched your neck and shoulders. The clinic was pretty busy for today and you’re glad you don’t have any clients to attend now considering the closing time will be in an hour. Mickey jumped off of Hoseok’s lap to transfer to you instead, smiling at the Santa outfit he’s sporting today.

“Why don’t we watch some news?” Hoseok took the remote from Jimin, both of you not muttering anything as you find the film showing in the television to be a bore anyway. You focused on petting Mickey instead, observing how his eyes were slowly fluttering by the second.

Well, it seems like not only three but the four of you are tired from today. Mickey was about to close his eyes until he got startled from Jimin’s quite loud voice.

“Have you ever dreamt about lottery numbers?” Jimin asked, making you confused until he told you to watch the news which is currently featuring the story of how a man won the lottery simply because of the Reverie device, stating that he won the lottery thanks to the random numbers that showed up in his dreams.

“You own a Reverie?” Hoseok asked but before you could answer, Jimin interjected to explain why you got it whilst you continue to watch the news again where they’re showing a similar story from the lottery man.

A high school student whose identity was disclosed is shown holding her nearly perfect exam paper to the camera, saying how she dreamt about the contents of the exam beforehand the test that’s why she was able to get a high score and how she intentionally omitted mistakes to not raise suspicions.

“Did something like that happen to you?” Jimin asked, shaking your head no, “Still dreaming about your mom?”

“Yeah but not that often anymore, it’s more of-”

“Jungkook?” Jimin cut you off, laughing as he saw you nod at him, “Any sexual fantasies yet?”

“No!...That’s ridiculous” you denied though it’s clear that you’re embarrassed because it was exactly three days ago since that Christmas Eve make out session with Jungkook happened. You stopped using Reverie for a while because of how that particular thing weirded you out because who even is Jungkook and why are you doing something intimate with him?

You’re scared because what if Jimin is right and Jungkook is a sexual fantasy of yours that you just strongly deny but it’s not like you completely dislike the idea of Jungkook, it’s just taken you aback how things escalated quickly. After all, there’s no harm dreaming about him.

“Well, you should tell me if ever you’ve dreamt about lottery numbers, okay?” Jimin said, winking at you.

“Why would she tell you? If I were her, I'd just enter those numbers by myself” Hoseok argued, “Plus, isn’t this just some kind of marketing ploy for the device?”

If you come to think of it, maybe Hoseok’s right. Reverie is surely just producing these kinds of stories in order to steer away from its bad reputation the internet has given them though for you, they should’ve let it be - bad marketing is still a form of marketing. It’s not like you could blame the company, they gotta do what they need to do to save its image.

How you wish that you get to have the same kind of dreams from the users they’ve interviewed but you only manage to dream about this boy who only continues to exist in your dreams instead.

Jungkook is his name and his family lives in Busan - those are only the two things that makes him distinct from your dreams but you’re sure that it’s only your subconscious who made that up. Sometimes, your curiosity gets you to wonder things about him that’s beyond what your mind can imagine.

What if Jungkook does exist in reality?

“Hi, how may i help you?” you asked once you saw a woman enter the store with a dog on a leash and a little girl came following

“We’re here for the 2 p.m. appointment”

You did your usual task of retrieving the records and clipping them on a clipboard for Jimin to take. Assisting the woman to the room where Hoseok is supposedly preparing the materials and equipment needed.

“Just sit and wait for me, okay?” the woman crouched down as she said this to the little girl until she looked back at you, “Can you please look over her for a while? Thank you”

You guided the little girl towards the waiting area as you told her that she could watch the television while she waits for her mom, leaving her to walk back to your desk once she got settled though you would still look at her from time to time.

With nothing else to do, you find yourself writing down your signature repeatedly on scratch paper until you get tired of it, resorting to writing another word or perhaps another name - Jungkook.

It has been a week since you managed to continue using Reverie again and you noticed that Jungkook is pretty much an inhabitant of your dreams by now with the amount of time he appears more in it than your mom that you started to be more accustomed with the boy and there’s no denying that you have come to let him live in your dreams.

Sometimes, you feel bad that you’re more looking forward to dreaming about Jungkook than your mom nowadays though you still hope she could appear once again. You’ve been missing the talks you have with her specially if the last talk you’ve had with her was back at Jungkook’s family house where she told you to follow your dreams.

“Hello miss”

You stopped from writing down Jungkook’s name as you heard little grunting sounds coming in front of you. One pair of cute tiny hands came into your view, the girl clearly trying to clutch both of her fingers around the edge of your desk as she finally managed to propped her chin after successfully tiptoeing.

“Hello, what can i do for you?” you said in a rather cheery voice to match her energy.

“Can i watch some cartoons, please?” you can now only see her eyes at this point, figuring that she must’ve given up from trying to reach the desk.

“Sure” you grabbed the remote from your side as you stood up to make your way and sit towards the waiting area with the little girl. You’re just casually switching the channels as you told the little girl to tell you to stop if she finds what she wants to watch.

“Cinderella!” the little girl squealed.

“Oh would you like to watch that?”

The little girl nodded at you, increasing the volume as you relaxed back to your chair to watch the Disney film until you notice her singing along to A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes in that scene where Cinderella was assisted by the birds and mouses as she gets ready for the day.

“No matter how your heart is grieving,

If you keep on believing,

The dream that you wish will come true”

“You must’ve watched it a lot of times, hm?” you asked once you noticed she knows the lyrics to the song all too well.

“Birds aren’t nice,” the girl said, “I thought they’re helpful.”

“What do you mean?”

The little girl then proceeded to tell you that one time she’s too lazy to fix her bed in the morning so an idea popped in her mind once she saw the movie. Since they have a love bird in their garden, she thought it’d be a good idea to get the cage and set them free into her room, thinking that they’ll help her clean the room just like in Cinderella.

“Did your mom get angry at you?” you stifled a laugh at how cute and innocent this little girl is who then pouted and nodded at your question.

“But it was funny watching her and dad trying to catch and get them back” the girl giggled as she recalled the memory.

Not long after, the little girl’s mom came out of the room, making her way towards the desk to pay the fees.

“Thank you for watching over her”, the woman said as you gave her a polite smile.

“Goodbye Miss!” The girl cutely waved at you, waving back at her as you gush at her cuteness.

Time pretty much passed by quickly after the little girl left because next thing you know, you’re getting off at the bus stop, walking towards your house as you keep your head up to look at the clear sky, giving you a perfect view of the stars.

You then refrain from walking once you spotted the familiar star which your mom told you where she is in your dreams. Smiling at the thought even though you probably look crazy with how you look - standing at the side of the road and smiling at the sky.

“I miss you” you said under your breath, “I’ll promise to follow my dreams”

“Wait, I’m getting the change” you chuckled as Jungkook impatiently tugged your arm as soon as he heard that the Disney Illumination Show will start in five minutes.

Grabbing the churros from the vendor, Jungkook then started to drag you along with him towards the front of the Cinderella Castle, chuckling in the process as you can’t help how Jungkook acts like a child with how excited he is right now that he even devoured his churros as fast as possible so he could potentially focus during the show.

Thankfully, you got a pretty good spot and you’ve arrived right in time as the show is just about to begin in a minute.

The lights that are lighting up the castle are then turned off only to be back on but are now illuminated with different Disney animations, music then starts playing with the water fountain and fireworks perfectly synced to the beat, clearly understanding Jungkook’s excitement for the show as you stand and watch in awe.

Halfway to the show, you glanced beside Jungkook to see his glassy eyes, remembering how Jungkook could get so emotional and touched in things like this and next thing you know a tear rolled down on his face that you managed to wipe with your thumbs as you endearingly smile at him.

Jungkook chuckled, clearly abashed that he unknowingly cried resulting in him to pull you in towards his chest, enclosing you in a back hug where he rested his chin on your shoulder. You look sideways at him to kiss his cheek, placing your hand on his arm as you continue to watch.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you asked.

“Do you want me to say you’re beautiful too?” Jungkook teased as he raised his eyebrows at you.

“If you say so”

“You glow more than these fireworks”

“You’re cheesy, I hate you” you glanced at your side to see Jungkook already staring at you.

“But you love it anyway” Jungkook smiled, leaning his head towards you to kiss you on your cheeks and then on the corner of your mouth until you moved your head a bit to the right so that you could fully kiss him.

“I could still taste the sugar” you chuckled, turning around to wipe the corner of Jungkook’s lips with the sleeves of your sweater from the sugar he possibly got from the churros.

You turned back to your previous position as you continue to watch the show and as soon as it ended, you two headed out towards the exit with Jungkook wildly swinging both of your hands that are intertwined while his other hand is holding the bag that contains the BB-8 Soda Container and two shirts that you got in the souvenir shop.

as he keeps on singing the songs that played out in the show awhile ago but he’s more particularly singing the song in the Cinderella movie.

“Did you have fun?” Jungkook asked in between the songs he kept on singing ever since the show ended, more particularly the song from Cinderella that played out in the show.

“Yeah, it felt so magical right?”

“Being here with you is magical enough” Jungkook raised your intertwined hands as he kissed the back of your hand, smiling as he saw you leaning your face towards his arm to hide how flustered that just made you feel.

“I hate you” you mumbled, still hiding your face in his arms.

“I know, I love you too”

Jungkook removed his hand from yours to place it instead on your shoulders to pull you more into his side, kissing the crown of your head as he continued singing the song that has managed to plague his mind.

‘Have faith in your dreams and someday,

Your rainbow will come smiling through.

No matter how your heart is grieving,

If you keep on believing,

The dream that you wish will come true.’

When you opened your eyes, you were then drifted back to reality when the ceiling of your room came into view. You then placed your hand on top of your chest as soon as you felt your heart thumping rapidly, smiling as you relive the dream that got you so giddy first thing in the morning.

But then you were pulled out from your dreamy state when you grabbed your phone, thinking you woke up right before your alarm went off but it looks like you’ve slept through it when you saw the time and Hoseok’s text, asking your whereabouts.

You threw your blanket away off of you, rushing inside your bathroom to get ready as fast as possible and next thing you know, you’re right outside of your house in just fifteen minutes, locking your door as you jog towards the bus stop which is thankfully just a few meters away from your house but then morning rush sure is hell as you notice the slow traffic flow.

As if you aren’t startled enough from being late, your phone went off to show that Hoseok’s calling you.

“Hi Y/N, where-”

“Hoseok, I woke up late, I'm sorry but I’ll be there in twenty minutes!” you said, quickly rushing towards the train station which is the best possible mode of transportation in your situation right now even though you’ll have to switch trains but it’s not like you have any choice anyway.

“Okay, just make sure you’ll make it in time for the two appointments in the next hour”

After the call ended, you quickly placed your phone in your pocket wherein you also retrieved your transportation card to scan it through the turnstile gate only for it not to open since your card’s balance is insufficient, making you even more agitated as you load your card down by the ticketing machine.

Thankfully, you passed through the gates and you’re now rushingly going up the escalator as soon as you felt the incoming rumbles of the train but then a man was blocking the walking side of the escalator.

“Excuse me” you said but the man made no move to step aside, annoying you even more until you noticed that he’s wearing earphones. The man just noticed that he’s on the wrong side of the elevator when you tapped him on the shoulder, profusely apologizing as you lightly smiled before you ran up again.

As soon as you got on the platform, the doors of the train closed as if luck wasn't by your side this morning. Sighing, you make your way to one of the seats as you feel your adrenaline rush wearing out, finally accepting that you’re late for work.

You picked it up as you went over to the old man to give it until he smiled at you, stopping your hand that’s about to give him his coin.

“Keep the change” he chuckled as he rode the elevator, leaving you quite puzzled all of a sudden because why does it feel like this has happened before yet it feels strangely unfamiliar at the same time perhaps could this be just a deja vu?

Until you remembered why it was so familiar to begin with. Skeptically, you tossed the coin in the air just to catch it mid-air as you slammed it at the back of your hand just to see if it’ll result into the same scene that happened before in your dreams

You don’t know why you’re so anxious to remove your hand. Perhaps you might freak out a bit if it happens to land on tails but there’s still a bit of probability that it could land on heads instead.

No, it landed on tails.

Baffled, you thought to yourself that this could be just a coincidence. You start to feel the hairs on your skin rise and your hands are starting to become clammy because you know well how the next scene will play out.

What if Jungkook is standing on the other side of the tracks?

It can’t be, Jungkook is just a figment of my subconscious, you reminded yourself.

You grasped the coin in your hand, fidgeting with it as you watch the train pick up its speed by the second, setting aside your hair that has made its way to your face from the gush of wind, anticipation building up by the second.

Waiting.

Impatiently Waiting.

The rumbling sounds of the train completely faded out in the distance making the station a quiet and calm place. Once again, you heard the clinking sound of the coin hitting the ground.

‘Follow your dreams’ is what your mom told you but is it possible for your dreams to follow you? As inconceivable it may seem, you're directly looking at a boy you just saw in your dreams and a boy you never knew existed in reality until now.

Who would know that the conscious could meet the subconscious.

A/N: I guess I took the futuristic!au quite literally. I think it wasn’t futuristic enough except for the device though it somewhat looks like it’ll fit as a Black Mirror episode haha. Hope you liked this one!

Also, coffee?

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roggenmuhme · 4 years

Text

Exam Season

The Diamonds x Reader Summary: As the semester draws to an end, finals are approaching and you struggle to balance studying and your relationship with the Diamonds. Wordcount: 4.3k More than open to criticism; this is my first time writing in years and I’m ESL, so I’ll take everything I can get.Feel free to chat me up on discord and on here … I'm happy to exchange sketches and wips, I got plenty! imbutahumblefarmer#5583 "You guys, I'm fine!"

It was your third time saying this exact same sentence while White Diamond strained herself to take up the whole screen in front of you.

Coupled with an awkward laugh, everyone would have figured out that you were lying by now. Everyone except for the Diamonds, of course.

They were a strange trio; completely unrecognizable from when you first had met them. In the place of the terrifying space dictators who had tried to squish you like a bug at Garnet's wedding were now three socially inept women with too much free time and nothing to do.

And they were endearing in their own way. Just like now.

An exasperated sigh could be heard through the connection, the screen whisked away by large, yellow hands. (White's stunned gasp was pointedly ignored, however.)

Yellow Diamond's face appeared in full on your little gemtech tablet, a curious Blue peeking over her shoulder. Her features were rough as always, one could be quick to assume that she was bored, but you knew better.

By the way her eyes narrowed, she didn't buy your shtick at all. A cool, calculated gaze met yours and you prepared yourself for the scolding that was about to come.

"... If you say so", her answer sounded oddly clipped, even for her.

Letting out a deep breath, you tried your best to smile at her and you could feel how fake it looked. Yellow just blinked at you, a hand leisurely supporting her cheek.

"Haha, yeah", you said in another attempt to calm them. They barely understood what university was, and if they caught wind of you being miserable, they would come and flatten your faculty. Or something. You didn’t want to deal with that. “It’s all over in two weeks, then I can come over… if I pass, that is”, you mumbled the last part under your breath, mentally freaking out a little. Only two weeks left … it felt like forever and nothing at all at the same time. “Two weeks?! That’s so long!”, White’s whine sounded off-screen, prompting Yellow and Blue to give her curt look, Yellow’s face contorting for a split second. “Are you serious?”, you had to suppress the laugh that bubbled in your throat. Whatever they did, they always put you in a better mood, intentionally or not. “You guys are thousands of years old, this should be like a minute for you, theoretically.” Yellow blinked at you again, her full attention shifting back to you. “We are aware. But every moment without you is torture.” This time, you laughed for real. Despite Yellow’s deadpan, she could be the cheesiest one of them at any given time. “Guys…!”

“Oh, but it’s true!”, Blue’s soft brogue interrupted your fussing. Yellow turned the device to face her, giving you two a moment. “You know we love you”, she smiled at you. You could feel yourself melting at the sight. “I miss you, I really do. I’ll get Steven to warp me to you immediately after the last exam, I promise.” It was the most you could do and it would already complicate things. But you couldn’t stand to see them like this. This seemed to be enough for Blue at least. She gazed at you in silence for a moment and nodded. With a flurry of colors, your eyes were burned by White’s pouting face again. “If you must, but not a second longer!” You sighed, grinning at her. “Of course.” A gaze at your wrist watch nearly made you recoil in horror. It was way too late already and you still had to do some revisions on unit 23! “Anyways, I really have to sleep now. Y’know, my organic needs and all...” You were a bad liar, but it did the trick on White. She looked like a moping child after their toy had been taken away. She made the most disappointed, dramatic noise while pushing the device from her to give you a look at the others. Blue gave you a little wave, still smiling sweetly. “Okay guys, I’ll call you the day after tomorrow, alright?” They nodded in unison, biding their goodbyes. Before you could switch your screen off, Yellow opened her mouth for one last message. “If anyone is giving you trouble, tell us.” With a hasty bow of your head and one last wave, you pressed the off button, your room now considerably darker again.

Your wrist watch beeped. Back to work.

Nervously tapping your pencil on an old worksheet, you tried to figure out a way how to solve the problem - you didn’t understand it back when you discussed it in class and you still didn’t understand it now. Your wrist watch gave a short beep, your signal to call the Diamonds in fifteen minutes. The break was more than welcome, maybe thinking about something else would give you a fresh eye. Tugging at your hair with a hairbrush, you hummed absentmindedly. You hadn’t really done anything today or yesterday that was worth reporting, but that never stopped the diamond’s from calling you. They simply did the talking themselves. Checking your appearance one last time in the mirror, you gave yourself a satisfied nod. Your eye bags had seen better days, but there was nothing you could do about it right now. Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, stark white light coming from your window. Turning your head comically slow to the source, you had a gut feeling who this could be. One of White Diamond’s eyes peaked excitedly into your studio apartment. It widened when you gave a hesitant wave. Your gut was right. “Hello, starlight!”, her voice was loud, too loud for 10 pm on a weekday. If the sudden arrival of three giant aliens didn’t get you in trouble, this would. When you didn’t answer, she brought a nail to the glass, impatiently tapping it. You were lucky it didn’t shatter on impact. “Darling”, she sang. “Come out, we came all the way to see you!” You had to shake yourself out of the trance you were in - you knew how clingy and protective they were, but this was new. Making your way to your window, you could already hear the noise rising in your neighbor’s apartment. Great. You just hoped they wouldn’t terminate your lease for this. When you finally opened the window, White’s massive hand plucked from the ground and plopped you into her other one. Indeed, all three stood in your parking lot, now hunched over to get a better look at you. “Hi guys”, you squealed, straining your neck to meet their eyes. Three faces beamed back at you, their total lack of situational awareness really showing. “Instead of calling you, we decided to visit you instead! A nice surprise, isn’t it?”, proclaimed White proudly as if she had just solved all of mankind’s problems single handedly. Blue and Yellow nodded enthusiastically next to her. You probably should be mad, but how could you? “Look, I really appreciate this”, you sighed. “But we really have to go somewhere else - people are already waking up. And it might get me in trouble.” That got you a collective ‘oh’ out of them. “Where is the ship anyway?”

You didn’t know how they managed it, but they had found an empty space large enough for the leg-less space giant. Apparently, they had walked the rest of the way and without damaging anything at that. You felt a little proud. The mental image still made you chuckle. “Okay guys, why did you come in person?”, you crossed your arms, while they sat around you in White’s head. “I thought we had a deal - I call you every 48 hours, you stay on Homeworld.” Blue and White evaded your eyes at your scolding tone, but Yellow held your gaze steadily.

"It was fairly obvious that you were not well at all despite your insistence otherwise", she offered her hand for you to climb on, and you did. "You have to take care of yourself, you are very fragile."

Now it was your turn to avoid her stare, feeling guilty. She was right, but you just didn't have the time. There was so much material to go through, so much to memorize. What could sleeping two hours less a night do? It was only for a short period of time, anyway.

And even if you struggled with anxiety and exhaustion, you didn't want to burden them. It was bad enough that you were gone for the semester, telling them how you really felt would be overkill.

But now the jig was up. You should have known that Yellow was an expert when it came to observation and you had probably hurt them even more with your lie.

"I'm so sorry", it was like someone had opened the valve and now you were pathetically blubbering. "I just… didn't want to worry you, is all."

Seeing your distress, Blue immediately pulled closer to you, a tentative finger rubbing the crown of your head.

"Little one, you know you can tell us everything. We care for you and want to help you", she cooed at you, shooting you a smile.

"You organics are so weak to stress, apply a little pressure and - poof - you just break", declared White, a finger up in the air to call attention to her great wisdom.

The stroking on your head stopped abruptly, replaced by shaking.

"Don't… say that", Blue voice was trembling, clearly on the verge of crying. As if on cue, you and Yellow scrambled to console her.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. It's just a little difficult right now", you turned to her, smiling.

"She is an excellent specimen and very durable, Blue", Yellow's tone was a bit more pragmatic, but honest. It was also a nice compliment, coming from her.

"Yes, this isn't the first time I'm dealing with exams", you reached out to pat her finger. "It's going to be okay, even if I don't pass."

"... really?", Blue looked at you with big, questioning eyes. "Please don't lie, you know I couldn't stand to see you - "

A shuddering breath followed. "Stars, I can't even say it."

You were scooped up by her hands and pressed against her soft cheek.

They were all experts in dramatics, but Blue was especially sensitive when it came to your mortality. The first time you had explained your lifespan and the many ways one could die to her in detail, you weren't allowed to leave her for a week. She had known how short human lives were, but this! Unacceptable.

She even made you eat nothing but mush during those seven days, too afraid of this 'choking'.

In the end, you talked her out of it. But it was a big factor when it came to your living situation. They wanted to spend every moment with you, savoring your presence.

You tried to reciprocate the cuddling by embracing her as best as you could. She let out a soft sigh, holding you a little closer. After a minute of silent embracing, she reluctantly put you back in Yellow’s hand. “We’re always there for you, no matter what”, she told you in a gentle tone, the other two nodding in agreement. “If you need me to talk to one of these organics, darling, don’t hesitate to tell me!”, exclaimed White, a smile stretching her cheeks in the most unnatural way. A mental image of her hunched over one of your professors in their office made you a little… uneasy. “Thank you, but I can do that myself”, you laughed nervously. White didn’t look too satisfied with your answer, but seemed to accept it.

“And if it becomes too much, you’re always welcome to move in with us”, added Blue, making you flush. It wasn’t the first time you got that offer, but it was just too sweet. “M-maybe in a couple of years”, you stammered, which earned you a grumble from them. You coughed, feeling a little awkward to change the topic so suddenly. “Ehm, thank you guys - I don’t want to be rude, but I have to get back to studying pretty soon.” “But it’s already dark outside! Isn’t that when humans sleep - oh”, Blue said, suddenly struck by an epiphany. “Oh no, we kept you from sleeping!” You shook your head vehemently. “No, no, we don’t go to sleep the second it gets dark, guys. I think I might have explained this to you before. But I still have some stuff to do.” Of course it was White who interrupted the stunned silence first. “You don’t have a little more time for us? We came all the way...” Yellow joined in, her voice a little louder than anticipated. “Can’t you study here? With us?” “Guys, you can’t just park your ship here - without asking anyone - and keep it in this place for days! I’m gonna get in trouble”, you panicked a little at the thought. The only spot where this gigantic humanoid vessel could be placed was Beach City. Nobody would call the police or worse, the government, over this. “So you have to leave,” this hurt more to say than you’d like to admit. “Or you have to go to Steven, if you want to stay.” All three of them pulled incredibly sad faces, and Blue was close to crying again. You would be lying if it didn’t pull at your heart-strings. “We’re here to make sure you take care of yourself, spark. You’re packing your things and then we’ll stay at Steven’s house and help you study”, Yellow nearly shouted at you. It wasn’t malicious, just her expressing her genuine concern. A relic of times now gone. You thought about it for a second - you could take your books with you, as well as your laptop and notes. Classes were over for now, you only had to attend the exams in two weeks. Technically, you could do it. And with the look they were giving you and all their efforts to make you feel better, you agreed. How could you say no to your giant space ladies? Especially when they were bending over backwards to comfort you. Steven was even more surprised to see the four of you two hours later. You had texted him on the way, but it had been left unread. The Diamonds didn’t really care for announcing their visits, but even this was a bit sudden. After White had explained everything to him, he simply slinked back to bed, planning on discussing the logistics of the situation in the morning. You were allowed to sleep on the couch, but not without the protest of the Diamonds. You loved falling asleep with them around, though regarding the circumstances they would probably dote on you until you were wide awake. They also tended to fight over who got to be the one you would sleep on, and you didn’t have the nerves for that right now. When you left the beach house the next morning, you were greeted with the sight of the three of them practically camping in front of the deck. They had missed you that much, it seemed.

“Good morning, guys!”

You were greeted by various nicknames and excited faces, White the first one to scoop you up. Behind your back, Steven groaned in his cup. “So, what have you planned, darling?”, her voice was chipper as ever, her bright eyes burning your retinas. Maybe Steven was right and it was just a little too early, but no take-backs now. “About that...”, you scratched your cheek in slight discomfort. “I have to study the whole day.” White’s fell immediately, clearly stunned. “I told you yesterday - I have things to do, but you can keep me company. Maybe even help me?” She blinked at you once, the gears in her head clearly turning. Then she gave you an eye-watering smile. “Whatever this studying is, we’ll help you!” You groaned internally. How many times had you explained it to her already?

It went better than you initially expected. The weather outside was nice and warm, the beach calm enough to simply set up a little picnic blanket with your books and notes. (You left your laptop inside, not wanting to get sand into it.) Surrounded by three (surprisingly silent) giant figures watching your every move, you got to work. It was a little awkward at first, but you fell into a routine soon enough. Each of them had her own unique way of helping you; Blue would simply nod and smile when you tried to regurgitate the material to her, White would go on a tangent whenever she recognized something you were talking about, earning her a warning glare from Yellow. Yellow herself would try to quiz you on whatever notes you had pulled up on your gemtech tablet (they were surprisingly resistant to sand). It quickly became one of the most successful days so far, you were impressed. Being with them kept you grounded, they were like a calming aura to keep your anxiety at bay. And they were extremely helpful. It was almost comical, you had to admit. At the end of the day, you were finally able to pack up your books and enjoy the evening with them. It felt good to know that you had managed to get so much done today. You were strangely at ease, their presence strengthening you. You did worry however, that this routine might get boring for them - it wasn’t like the nice things you did usually, it wasn’t playful, entertaining or relaxing. You didn’t want to force them into staying with you, you didn’t want to bore them. With a sigh you shouldered your tote bag, still too caught up in your head. Your sudden shift in mood didn’t go unnoticed. “Little one, are you alright?”, Blue crouched down next to you, her soft eyes glowing in the dusk, her form crowding you in shade.

You looked up to her, a little unsure on how to word your feelings.

"It's just", you opened and closed the fist around your bag straps. "Did you enjoy today? Was it dull? I-I still have two weeks to go and it's gonna stay the same, pretty much."

She sighed, her tense shoulders slacking.

"We enjoy your company", she gave you a smile. "We haven't spent time with each other in such a long time, starlight. If we were able to accompany every second of your life, we would."

She offered you a hand and you happily jumped on it, a little flustered at her words. They were so serious, so heartfelt. Sometimes you did forget that they were older than civilization on earth, that they would outlive you by eons.

"Thank you, Blue", you peered up at her, a relieved smile appearing on your face. "Your company helps me so much, you know? It would mean the world to me if you stayed with me until the exam."

Luckily for you, Steven had given you permission to stay on the beach - you were also allowed to sleep on the couch, but you knew you'd have to stay with the Diamonds. It was the least you could do to pay them back, even if it was just this little thing.

And this was exactly how you spent the last days leading up to your finals, either sprawled on the picnic blanket on the beach, sitting on the deck with your laptop or, when the weather didn't allow it, lounging on the couch or on the ship. You were surrounded by Blue, Yellow and White at all times, each of them trying her best to help you with the material. They kept you on track, making sure you didn't procrastinate too much (even if that meant less cuddles) and nipped any self-doubts you had in the bud.

Even as the date got dangerously close, they still patiently calmed you down. When your panic got too bad, one of them made sure to keep you close, either putting you into her lap or patting your head. At night, they talked to you until you fell asleep and woke you up better than your little phone alarm could ever do. You knew that even if you didn't pass, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

Still, you were an anxious mess when the first exam rolled around, your mind a thousand miles away as you got ready to go to uni and to give it your all. Not even the Diamonds were able to calm you down, but you knew you just had to get it done and over with. The week was a blur, days blending into each other, your head always buried in a book. You were lucky that they had stayed behind with Steven, only calling you at the end of the day. While the fussing had been helpful beforehand, now it would only hinder you.

Before you could really settle into a routine, finals were over, leaving you with a weird emptiness and a restless feeling. Now all you had to do was wait for the results, a special kind of torture in itself.

The Diamonds noticed how absent you were, but no amount of well-meaning words could shake your nervousness. You didn't mean to cause them any further stress, but it was tough to keep your mind off things.

When the results were finally posted online, your heart threatened to burst out of your chest, your mouth dry and your hands shaking. You knew there was nothing you could do now, but the thought of weeks of studying going to waste was nearly unbearable. A dozen scenarios ran through your head, not one overly positive.

Once the browser had pulled up your account, the answer was a simple click away. You had to steel yourself by gripping the edge of the table - the Diamonds were waiting outside impatiently, you knew they would lose it if they saw you like this.

With one last breath, you closed your eyes and did what had to be done.

The page was on full display in a matter of milliseconds, your eyes frantically searching for the right column, moving erratically up and down.

Finally you found what you were looking for: you had passed. In a moment of disbelief, you reread the page again, but it was there in tiny black letters.

It was like someone had knocked all the air out of you with a single hit, your heart wasn't done with beating fast, but at least some of the nervousness slowly dissipated.

The realization took a while to settle in as you deflated in your seat like beach ball slowly losing air. You stared at the wall, a smile cautiously spreading on your face as if you were afraid that too much joy would nullify your results. But after a solid minute, not even your stress-addled mind fog could hold you back from jumping out of your seat in joy.

Busting through the door, you cheered loudly while you ran across the deck, immediately focusing all attention on you. Steven had distracted the Diamonds to give you some time and space, but at the sound of your happy shouting they instantly turned around, faces unsure for a second.

You raced through the sand, arms in the air, relieved laughter pouring out of your mouth like a steady stream. It was probably not the most flattering or mature look, but you couldn't care less.

"I passed!", with one last cry you came to a grinding halt in front of them, only to jump up into the air. "I did it! Ha!"

Blue's face was the first to soften into a tender smile, her expression clearly full of pride, followed by White who looked at you in excitement.

Yellow only blinked at you for a moment before she erupted in delighted laughter and scooped you up without a word, her eyes beaming with glee. It was rare for her to lose her composure like this, but that made it all the more sweet. You shot back the biggest grin you could manage, positively vibrating in her palm.

"We're so proud of you, little one", Blue's voice came out as a gentle sigh, stress falling off her back you didn't even know she had felt. It made you stop for a moment, finally grasping how your situation had affected them and how much they cared for you.

You teared up in an instant, the sudden change of feelings giving you whiplash, your heart suddenly bubbling with love and gratefulness. It was unbelievable how lucky you were, you realized.

At the sight of your sniffling face, Yellow brought you closer to her, her eyes full of warmth. It was as if she was shielding you from the others for just a moment of privacy.

"No reason to cry, spark", her tone was as soft as the look she gave you and did exactly the opposite: you couldn't help but let some tears slip down your cheeks, babbling about how happy you were to have passed and to be with them, while she smiled at you in slight amusement.

The moment was interrupted by an awkward Steven coughing not-so-subtly into his fist.

"Okay, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it?", his voice reached a clumsy high, he clearly felt like he was disturbing something.

The Diamonds didn't really notice however, they just happily sent him off and turned their attention back to you. You were showered in affection and soft words, they were genuinely happy for you and even more ecstatic to have you all for themselves for a couple of weeks. As you listened to White ramble on and on about what she had planned for you during this break, you felt the pressure lift itself from you. All this stress had been worth it and now you were rewarded with all the love you could ever ask for. You knew that this was where you belonged.

#blue diamond x reader #yellow diamond x reader #white diamond x reader #steven universe #the diamonds x reader #my writing

477 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

A fun, potentially spooky prompt for Halloween season based on something you wrote in “Amnesty Records”: “Like the monster under the bed came to life, turned out to be hot, and really wants to fuck you.” Something to the theme of Little Monsters from 1989? Indruck and NSFW if you please?

This is indeed NSFW, and also came to me all in one burst.

Duck pulls the Captain Planet comforter up to his chin, sighing as he lays down. He turned seven today, and has been spoiled and fussed over. Mama Newton isn’t much of an entertainer, but she knows how to throw a birthday party.

A scrape of nails on the floor and the rustle of something under his bed makes him freeze.

“Taco, that you?”

When the cat doesn't appear, he sinks further under the covers.

“Mom?”

“No” soft voice with a bit of hiss drifts up from under the bed.

He swallows, “Who’re you?”

“My name is Indrid. I live under your bed.”

“No you don’t, you weren’t there last night.”

“How do you know?”

“Just do. So go away.”

“No.”

“I’m gonna call my dad.”

“He won’t believe you” the bed frame rattles, “he will tell you to be a big boy.”

The monster is right, just yesterday dad was saying how proud he was of Duck being brave at the doctor. Fine, maybe if he pretends it’s not there, it’ll go away.

“....aren't you going to cry?”

“No.” He sets his shoulders, glares at his wall.

“....not even a little?”

“No.”

“Oh.” A sigh, “I am not very good at this.”

Duck didn’t know monsters could be sad.

“Are, uh, are you a grown-up monster?”

“No. I am young and little, like you. They would not send a grown-up monster to a child, they send them to grown-up humans.”

“Grown ups don’t have monsters under their beds.”

“They do. They may not know it, but they do.”

Indrid doesn’t say anything else and Duck falls asleep. He’s hoping the monster won’t come back, but the instant his mom turns out the light, he knows he’s there.

“I’m n-not scared.” He whispers to the ceiling.

“Yes you are. I can taste it.”

“You can't hurt me. You ain’t real.”

A hand closes around his ankle and he yelps. The monster laughs, then hisses when Duck kicks his wrist.

“That was not nice.”

“Neither was grabbing me”

There’s a huff, but nothing else. The third night, Duck is ready, sticking a fake sword under the bed as soon as Indrid says something.

The sword is yanked from his hands.

“Why is it this color?”

“Suppose to be from the future. Ain’t you seen space rangers?”

“No. That is not a movie we have down here.”

Duck is only now starting to recognize awkward pauses, but he’s pretty sure this is one.

“Will you tell me about it?” Indrid slides the sword back onto the floor by his dresser.

He rolls onto his back. He’s not all that tired, and Juno is sick of hearing about it.

“Okay, so there’s this guy who’s a space farmer….”

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

It’s been a year and Indrid is under his bed almost every night, but Duck isn’t afraid of him anymore. Which is why he’s determined to finally get a look at him. How scary can a monster that wants to talk about T.V or trees or whatever else Duck has been up to really be?

When his mom turns off the light, Duck slips out of bed and lays on his stomach, staring into the darkness beneath it.

Four red eyes appear, but nothing else.

“Hey ‘Drid.”

“Hello. Why are you down here? Did you lose that action figure again?”

“Nah. Wanted to see you. Where’s the rest?”

“Hidden in shadows. I am not supposed to let humans see me. It can be dangerous.”

“Oh, uh, sorry?”

Indrid hurriedly adds, “But we can stay like this, this is okay. I think. I do not really care, I like being able to see you. You're like the baby multibear my friend has.”

“I ain't a bear.”

“No. But you are, ah, cute.”

Only Iris, Juno’s friend, has ever called him cute, and he only knows that because Juno told him. He understood he was supposed to think that was good. But he likes it much better when Indrid says it.

“What should we talk about tonight?”

Duck rests his chin on his hands, “You wanna play go fish?”

“You have a fish?” The red eyes tip to the right.

He snickers, “No, it’s a game. Here, lemme show you…”

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

“You better give that one back.” Duck grumbles as he looks down from the bed to see his new Spiderman comic missing.

“I have given all of them back.” He can hear the smile, the one he’s glimpsed in darkness while whispering secrets under the bed; it’s wide, and there are definitely fangs, but Indrid only ever shows it when he’s happy. He never has a mean smile like the jerks at school.

“Where’s my Black Panther?”

“...........I dropped it in the stream when I was reading.”

“‘Drid!”

“I got excited!!”

“You owe me a new one.” There’s no anger in his words. It’s just a comic book, not nearly as special as Indrid.

“Can I give you something from here instead?”

Duck closes the new Iron Man, holds it down to the space beneath the bed, “deal.”

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

He wakes up with a cry, too quiet to be a scream but with tremendous force behind it. As the nightmare fades, something rolls off the bed behind him.

“‘D-Drid? Please, please say that was you or Taco.”

“It was me, Duck. I, I am sorry, you were whimpering in your sleep and I could taste more and more fear and I did not want you to be afraid. I, ah, I thought if I held you, it would make you feel better.”

“Thanks.” He shivers, the dream reaching out from all sides, threatening more horror if he falls asleep.

“Can, uh, can you come back up? Just for a little bit?”

“I should not. It was already risky to do it how I did.”

Duck nods, forgetting Indrid can't see him. That's fine. He’ll be okay. He can handle-

A tree branch scrapes the window and he throws the covers over his head.

“Put your hand over the edge of the bed.”

Duck slips his hand out from the blanket and lets it hang in the air. Fingers link around it, and then Indrid is holding it full on. It doesn’t feel like holding Janes hand when he’s helping her cross the street; it’s cold, smooth, and the nails are sharp. He sneaks a glance, sees red claws wrapped around his wrist, and feels safe enough to sleep.

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

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, don’t know why I’m so worried about startin’ high school. I mean, it’s fucking Kepler, the high school ain’t any bigger than the middle school. “

“I always get nervous for new lessons. Even with some ability to see the future, I am worried I will do something wrong. Maybe it is that?”

“Yeh.” Duck rolls onto his side, hoping for a glimpse of a hand. He wishes he knew what Indrid looked like, wishes he was coming to school with him tomorrow.

“I am sure you will be fine. You are intelligent, and funny, and charming.”

He smiles at the wall, “Thanks, ‘Drid.”

“Any time, Duck.”

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

His roommate is snoring, which is not what he was hoping for from his first night in the dorms. Class tomorrow is going to fucking suck if he hasn't slept.

“Congratulations on the successful move.” A familiar voice slinks up to his ear.

“‘Drid? Holy shit, did you follow me?”

“I am your monster, I go where you go. Sort of. It is complicated. What is not complicated however, is this.” The clawed hand pops up to the edge of the bed, placing a wrapped package near Duck’s head. Stealthily removing the paper shows it’s the bright orange truffles that come from Indrid’s home. Duck loves them.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“It is traditional in both human and monster culture to give a gift when one moves to a new home. And I like bringing you things. Are you feeling well? Excited to learn about the forest?”

“Yep. Just wish I could get to sleep.”

“One moment.”

He feels Indrid leave. Then his roommate's bed shakes and shudders, the other guy jolting awake in fright. He doesn’t look like he’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon.

Duck shifts onto his side, facing the wall, and whispers down the stucco, “Thanks.”

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

A perk of his roommate getting a girlfriend is that Duck gets more nights alone. He’s soaked the pillow with sweat, and is so wrung out from cumming he hasn't wiped his hands yet.

“Are you done?”

“JESUSFUCK”

“I'm taking that as a yes.”

“Please tell me you ain’t been there this whole time.”

“No, I always leave if you are doing that. It is private.”

“Thank fuck.”

Relief is followed by disappointment, which he decides he won’t think too hard about.

It only takes another night before he does, imagining Indrid listening to him fuck himself, whispering instructions for how Duck should do it, even touching himself at the same time, getting off on the sound of Ducks pleasure before holding his hand all night.

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

It’s fall, and the apartment he and Juno share is close to campus, cheap, and fucking freezing.

Duck knows just how to warm up. Sliding his hand down his sweats, he starts picturing Rich, but the thought of jerking it to an ex is a boner-kill waiting to happen. So, he switches to his trusty fallback, selecting a blonde, fresh-faced yet kind of punk body for the voice under the bed.

He wants to draw it out, but fantasizing about Indrid always sets his hand flying, too many nights like this seeding a deep desire in his veins that he has to purge fast for fear of what will happen if it lingers. The monsters name drops from his lips, breathy and urgent, and he’s too caught up to care

“Indrid, fuck, please.”

“Please what?”

Gasping, he sits up. A figure is standing at the foot of his bed, staring at him with red eyes. In the dark room, he can’t make much out beside their glow and two short horns on the top of his head. Duck’s mind spins so fast it hurls out the first sentence that comes.

“‘Drid’s got four eyes, not tw-”

Another pair of eyes open just below the first.

“They are a secondary pair, so I can keep them shut and see just fine. I thought the sight of them might be too much combined with the rest of me.” Indrid murmurs.

“Th-though I ain’t allowed to see the rest.”

A shrug, “You aren’t. But I cannot bring myself to care right now. Not when you say my name like that.”

Summoning his courage, Duck locks his gaze onto Indrid’s own and slowly drags a hand up his dick, “You gonna show me the rest or not?”

A hissing growl curls around him as Indrid leans forward, clawed hands leading the crawl onto the bed. In the moonlight coming through the window, Duck sets eyes on the whole of him for the first time.

His face is angular, sporting his wide toothy grin and framed by silver hair falling just past his chin. Past the claws, his arms are a mixture of tan skin and black and red scales, twining up his arms. The same combination is clear on his chest, visible above the neckline of the white tank-top. Flashes of color appear under the fabric, racing down Indrid’s spine, and Duck would ask what they are if Indrids face had not just come level with his. Standing up, the monster can't be much taller than him. But here, pinned against his headboard like a scientific specimen, Indrid bracketing him, he feels frighteningly small.

“What happened to not spying on me when I did this?” The words stick in his dry mouth.

“It was accidental. I only stayed when I heard you call for me.”

“Wasn't callin.” Heat rises in his face.

The grin widens, “Oh no?” A long tongue drags down Duck’s cheek, “You did not have even the smallest hint of hope I would her? That I would lay in the shadows, savoring the sounds of you, ah, taking yourself in hand?”

He’s so strange looking, every sensible part of Duck is screaming for him to run, to banish him under the bed and go back to his normal life.

Duck inches his face forward, closing his teeth round the lobe of a pointed ear, “Maybe.”

Indrid chuckles, “Then maybe I have been hoping for the same. Maybe I have been touching myself and dreaming it was your hand instead of mine. Maybe” he brushes their noses together, “I have wanted this for as long as you have?”

“Least a year, more if I’m bein honest with myself.”

“Several years, but then again, I had the pleasure of being able to see your face. It made you all the more appealing.”

Duck reaches out a shaking hand, stroking silver hair. He means to say some platitude about Indrid being handsome because the affection in Duck’s heart means he couldn’t see him any other way. While that may be true, a second, more surprising truth comes out in its place.

“Thinkin if you’d let me see you, we woulda gotten here a lot sooner. “

There’s another growl and then he’s yelping out a laugh as Indrid yanks him flat on his back and unceremoniously rips his shirt off. His monster brings their lips together, tongue sliding between Duck’s lips as the human shoves both hands into Indrid’s hair. When he teases his tongue against Indrid’s, the monster whines, pressing closer and pawing his sides.

“‘Drid” He mumbles.

Another whine, higher and morphing into a chirr as Indrid grinds their hips together.

“‘Drid, you gotta let me breathe.”

The monster breaks the kiss, but coats his face in pecks as he catches his breath, chirping all the while. Something solid ripples beneath the fabric of his black pants where they rub against Duck’s thigh.

“Holy fuck what, what exactly are you packin down there?”

“Would you like to see?”

“Hell yeah.”

The pants and Duck’s sweats hit the ground in quick succession, Indrid’s shirt landing atop them a moment later when Duck pulls it off to kiss along the scaled swirls of his chest.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Guh, uh, jesus, uh, ‘Drid, what’s it doin?”

Indrid looks down to where four short tendris are unfurling to reveal a ridged cock.

“Getting ready to fuck you?”

“Uh, how exactly?”

Indrid licks his lips, “Lay back and I will demonstrate. Do not worry, as much as it pains me to focus on anything but your face, I will use my foresight to be certain nothing I do leads to trouble.

Duck rests his head on the pillow as Indrid settles between his legs, claws pricking his thighs when the monster pushes them apart.

“Does the whole thing goOH, oh fuck.” He wiggles his hips, “fuck, ‘Drid, that feels so fuckin weird.”

‘That is not surprising. It is one of the tendrils which, unless I'm very wrong about human anatomy, none of your previous partners had.”

“Nnnnnnfuck, fuck you’re gonna fuckin ruin me, god fuckin damn that feels nice.”

“Wonderful.” Indrid bends down, hands gliding to rest by Ducks biceps. He kisses him slowly s the tendril continues stretching him open, slick and pulsing in time with the careful movements of Indrid’s hips.

His monster noses down his throat, drgs his tongue back up it with a purr, “You taste divine.”

“If you,re fuck gonna eat me, do me a favor and do it after I cum?” Duck teases, stroking Indrid’s shoulder blades.

Indrid laughs, “A fair request. But I have zero interest in eating you; how could I? I would lose my best friend and my new favorite past time.” The tendril thickens, making Duck moan and throw his forearm over his eyes.

“Fuuuck, are all monsters this fuckin sappy?”

“Only yours. And it is not as if you're not that way. I remember those love notes you asked me to help with.”

“Okay okay, we’re both big fuckin marshmallows. Now, AAHnn, are you gonna help me break this bed or not?”

Indrid pulls out with another growl, kneading Duck’s ass as he lines up his cock, “Yes, yes I am.”

“FUCK, ohfuckohfuck, yeah, fuck yeah.” Duck digs his fingers into Indrid’s back as he shoves in, “‘Drid, tht’s so fuckin goodohshit, what, what’s it doin now?” The tendrils have spread, one curling around his dick, two teasing his balls, and the fourth twining up Indrid’s shaft, meaning Duck’s toes curl with new sensations on the next thrust.

Indrid grins against his neck, “Taking care of you.”

“Ain’t that, that thoughtful.”

“All for you my sweet, goodness, you’re so warm and your ass is delightful.” His lips find Duck’s cheeks, “I’ve wanted this so long, sweetheart, so very longAHhnnnn.” His head hits the pillow as Duck scratches down his back. Not only do colors flash in his wake; spikes emerge along the ridge of his spine, flickering red to purple to black.

“Is that-”

“-okay yes very, o-okay. You can touch them, they will not hurt.”

Duck runs his finger up one. It’s feathery and smooth, rising and lowering with the undulations of Indrid’s body. Tugging it makes Indrid snap his hips with a chirring growl.

“Yes, yes do that again, more, please ohahnnnnisJunohome?

“No?”

“Good.”

The words Duck meant to say give way to shouts of pleasure as Indrid slams into him over and over, sinking his teeth into his shoulder and clawing at his sides. Duck scratches his scales and skin, strokes and pulls the feathery spines, Indrid trilling when he does. His hips quicken, Duck struggling to keep pace as the monster pins him more firmly to the bed. When he cums the tendrils tighten, sending Duck over the edge right after him. Indrid kisses him again, nipping long his lips as he whimpers the monsters name.

As his whole body spasms and relaxes, Indrid rolls him over, panting.

“More, I want more, again, mine, you are all mine.”

Duck looks over his shoulder, grinning fondly, “Uh huh.”

“What is so funny?”

“Nothin. Just, uh, realized there's a plant your dick reminds me of.”

Indrid blinks so intently his second set of eyes join in the expression. Then he cackles, draping himself over Duck to kiss him again.

“You can tell me all about it after we are done with the extremely pressing matter of me fucking you again.”

“Go wild, darlin.”

This time the pillow takes the brunt of the noise, Duck grunting and moaning into it as Indrid fucks him from behind, switching between slow, gentle thrusts and grabbing Duck’s hips to drive into him hard enough to set off fireworks in his brain. He’s overstimulated to the point of tears, but his whole system floods with pleasure at the intensity of Indrid’s desire, the feeling of being so utterly used and wanted all at once. When the monster pulls out, he’s cum enough that it drips down Duck’s thigh, tingling as it goes.

“Now” Indrid flops onto the mattress, wriggling into Duck’s waiting arms, “tell me about this plant.”

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

When Juno gets home Sunday morning, Duck is in the kitchen humming long with a playlist on his phone.

“Holy fuck man, what happened to you.” She stares at the bitemarks and bruises all around his neck and shoulders and the scratches on his legs.

“Had a real nice weekend.”

“You got all that from a hook-up?”

Duck shakes his head with a secretive smile, “Nah. Just had a sleepover with my new boyfriend.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #alternate universe #monster boyfriend #monster under the bed

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