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sugawara-sweetheart · 3 years

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parasite | part ii (m)

❥oikawa x fem!reader x kunimi x kindaichi | seijoh x fem!reader

❥warnings: mentions/descriptions of somnophilia, public sex, rough sex, biting | minor implication of cheating | Stockholm syndrome, manipulation | noncon, heavy degradation, humiliation, spitting, voyeurism, nipple play, dacryphilia, handjob, choking, slapping, cock-slapping, facial + creampie

❥word count: 5.4k

hell has always been depicted one way. crimson fire and blood sweeping across, anguished face melting into skulls, darkness plaguing. but that’s wrong.

this is hell.

being oikawa tōru’s dirty little cumslut is hell.

you thought it would’ve gotten better after almost three years of finishing high school had passed but it’s the same. you wake with a heavy heart, stinging tears building in your eyes and oikawa’s cock forced its way into your aching cunt, his lips pressed to your throat, staining fresh bruises over the old ones. it was foolish to think the day you folded up your aoba johsai uniform for the last time ever that you were free of your dirty time at the school, but you were so wrong.

and it isn’t just oikawa. it isn’t unusual for iwaizumi to turn up at the door of oikawa’s doorstep, not just to see his best friend because the two are still inseparably close, but to demand you.

“come on, you’ve been hogging her for too long, making her into your slut. stop being greedy and learn to share, shittykawa.” is all he spits, tugging you away roughly by the arm whilst oikawa merely laughs.

“play nice, iwa-chan!” is all he calls, waving you away.

sometimes iwaizumi just can’t wait. more often than not he’s fucked you in his car, the cold windows steaming up as he grunts in your ear, hips snapping into yours till his hot white cum spills all over your clothes, clinging to the fabric. and then when you finally return back to his apartment it happens all over again. you can’t find it in yourself to cry anymore but maybe iwaizumi’s more careful than oikawa; there’s always a tenderness in his eyes when he brushes your hair out of your sweating face, asking you if you’re okay. but what are you supposed to say? tell him no, you’re fucking done with this shit, as if they’d ever let you go?

even makki and mattsun hadn’t fully let go. the two may have moved away to tokyo for university but they still return often, sometimes together, sometimes alone. too many assignments. close deadline. girlfriend is pissing him off. and all oikawa does is laugh cheerily, swinging his arm around his shoulder, a suggestive gleam in his crinkled eyes.

“need some stress relief?” and you’re whoever’s for the night to use as they wish.

maybe if you had applied to another high school or another club or you weren’t so outgoing, things would’ve been different.

but instead you’re oikawa’s little toy to be passed around as he wishes, and he’d always been a good senpai to his underclassmen, a good captain to his former teammates even to this day.

yahaba gets you first after he graduates. you don’t know what happened to the sweet, charming boy who always went out of his way to treat you like a delicate angel because the way his hand strikes your cheek burns with a sting as he drives his cock into your cunt relentlessly, spitting about what a dirty slut you are, how you’re only good to get fucked, the only thing you can do is take cock. but he isn’t as bad as kyōtani. you were sure you were lucky to be alive, after his hands locked around your throat too hard, squeezing your airways tight till black spots began to appear in your teary vision.

even iwaizumi and oikawa had been stunned when you’d returned. deep bruises stained your arms and bite marks etched into your legs, handprints on your throat and welts on your cheeks, pink cum clinging to your panties. neither of them had been able to say anything but there was a deep crease between iwaizumi’s brows as he rubbed the ointment carefully onto you.

“gonna kill him.” he hissed to himself when you winced with the pain and flinch at his movements. but they still didn’t refuse the next time kyōtani came around asking for a go.

but even after everything- even after he lets you be used, be spat on and slapped, have your hair pulled till strands are ripped from your burning scalp and there’s bite marks bruising your skin- the only time you feel cathartic calmness wash over you is when you’re in oikawa’s arms, his fingers brushing through your hair, his clean scent filling your nose.

“oh, you’re such a cute, little slut. a good girl.” he hums, nuzzling his face against your cheek with a smile on his face. if it had been different, you’d have looked like an adorable couple perhaps. but this was anything but.

one night when you’d been lying next to oikawa, staring up at the dark ceiling, fantasies began to paint in your mind. what if your innocent teenage crush on oikawa had been reciprocated differently? maybe you’d be lying beside him optionally, that you would choose to kiss him and let him touch you and he wouldn’t laugh at you and mock you for sobbing even though your wetness is drooling from your tight, slutty hole- and even if he did, it’d be okay because it’d just be a fantasy and you know he’d love you. or what if you had refused that night what feels like so many years ago? what if you had pushed him away, asked him to leave, if you hadn’t given in to the heavy sense of not wanting to disappoint weighing down on you?

“what you thinking about?” you start slightly at oikawa’s saccharine voice purring in your ear as he shifts, pressing his body against yours and resting his hand over your waist. you try not to tense too much- he always hates it when you do. “don’t you trust me, y/n-chan? you know i’d never hurt you- why would you think i would?” he’d pout, scandalised and hurt by the idea of you being scared of him, even though you know he doesn’t really care. in fact, you’re sure he likes the fear.

“i’m just thinking.” you breathe. you can feel his eyes piercing into you, even in the darkness as your eyes flutter shut. that fantasy of being free is so beautiful. “tōru, would you ever let me go?”

“let you go?” he laughs but you feel his arm tighten around your waist. “where would you go?” you don’t reply but his legs tangle with yours and he pulls you into his hold, resting his lips against your ear. “i care for you here. i give you a home, food, clothes- anything you want i give you. you wouldn’t have anyone else like that in the world.” he sounds hurt, voice mocking and it makes your chest twinge. he wasn’t wrong; he was busy practising and playing volleyball, heading towards his dream of being a pro-athlete and competing at the very top nationwide- worldwide even perhaps- but he still always came home to you. he still always had time for you. “why would you want to go?” there’s a heavy pregnant pause and your throat feels tight before you can mumble out an apology, shaking your head to dispel the fantasies you crave. the tension washes away and you can feel his lips stretch into a smile as you curl into him. “that’s right, sweetie. you’d never want to leave me.”

spring used to be your favourite time of year. cherry blossom always looked so beautiful and there was nothing as exhilarating as finishing the long, strenuous academic year and getting to admire the beautiful pink blossom decorating the trees, drifting in the light airy breeze. before you would celebrate- it used to be sweet, happy memories to be sipping peach tea under the cherry blossom trees as the warm, spring air carried your laughter with your friends: oikawa, iwaizumi, hanamaki and matsukawa. oikawa still takes you to see it, but now pink blossom bleeds into scarlet with his fingers gripped around your wrist, a bitter taste weighs heavy on your tongue.

one spring night oikawa invites kunimi and kindaichi round. their cheeks are flushed pink with tipsy joy in the warm living room as they sip cold beers, laughing over old memories with the sounds of a volleyball game on television playing in the background. it’s supposed to be a nice thing- a senpai, a captain, treating his underclassmen for finally graduating, but your stomach still churns with anxiety, cold sweat dampening your skin even when you shuffle closer to oikawa. the soft scent of his cologne doesn’t calm you now and your glass of juice weighs heavy in your hand. you’re sure if you even try to open your mouth you’ll be sick.

but you don’t mind.

it’s better to feel ignored as you sink into the couch, staring at the blue and yellow striped ball flashing on the television than to acknowledge kunimi and kindaichi’s eyes boring into you. something about them makes your skin crawl- it’s been a few years since you’d left high school but it feels different now. back then they had adored you- you were their manager, their senpai who always gave them the coldest water bottles first, who defended them from the other senpais, who always cheered them on and offered to buy them ramen and meat buns after practise. and now you can’t say exactly what it is but they look at you differently.

“another beer?” oikawa asks and the two dark-haired boys nod. you try to swallow the thick lump in your throat when he gets up from beside you on the couch, prising his arm away from you even if you try to cling to his sleeve and the living room door snapping shut behind him makes all the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up. you try not to look at them, staring at the television screen but it’s hard to focus when the bright light stings and bleeds out into white lines from the hot tears building in your orbs. there’s a flash of movement. your heart drops as you sink into the couch, horrified to find kindaichi has moved from the other end closer, kunimi standing from the armchair and towering over you.

“you guys okay?” your voice wavers and you grip the hem of your shirt tight, hoping it’ll mask how your hands tremble but you can’t even meet their eyes piercing into you.

“we’re not stupid, you know.” kindaichi spits first. you can see it now, hear it- the disgust laced in his tone, in his narrowed eyes. “we want our turn.”

“w-what?” kunimi scoffs next, shaking his head as a somewhat amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“don’t play dumb, y/n. we know you’ve been their little fucktoy for years now. and now it’s our turn to use you too.”

an iciness strikes through your chest as you stare at the two boys, cowering as you sink into the couch, shaking your head furiously.

“n-no! it’s not like that!”

“really?” there’s a harsh mocking to kindaichi’s tone, his eyes widened in faux disbelief. “are you saying yahaba and kyōtani were both lying? that your cunt was the tightest little hole they’d ever fucked? that you weren’t so good at taking dick right now down that little throat?” you gasp, spluttering on your words as you try to protest. they edge closer as fear rises in you, and a desperate squeal falls from your lips when kindaichi’s heavy hand grips your shoulders, pushing you flat against the couch.

you cry out as his fingers fumble for the buttons of your shirt, your hands clawing at his and legs flailing, and he grunts when your foot strikes into his stomach.

“you fucking bitch.” kunimi hisses, grabbing your hands as kindaichi clambers over your legs, his sheer weight feeling like it’s crushing your bones.

“stay still, dumb whore- do you think anyone’s going to help you?” the buttons come falling off your shirt as kindaichi rips it open and your scream is lost when kunimi sticks his fingers into your mouth, your throat closing up on the drool that spills from your lips.

but then the door opens and oikawa stands in the doorway, mouth hanging open and three beers in his hand.

“what’s going on?” you sob heavily when kunimi pulls his fingers from your mouth and releases your wrists, your hands immediately falling to your chest to cover yourself up and neither kindaichi nor kunimi try to stop you when you scramble away from them, hurrying to oikawa. he lets you fall into his arms as he places the beers down on the coffee table, holding you and swaying you gently with gentle shushes.

“t-tōru, t-they-” you shake as you cling to him, wet tears staining your cheeks as you bury your head in his chest and he coos as he cups the back of your head.

“oh, it’s okay, sweetie. don’t worry, i’m here now.” his voice is so gentle. but then he chuckles. his chest vibrates against your head as you tense in his hold. it doesn’t feel like safety anymore.

“you guys couldn’t wait, huh?” tuts oikawa, lifting a brow as he stares at kindaichi and kunimi, a mocking smirk tugging at his lips.

“everyone else got a go on her.” says kunimi. “so why can’t we fuck the slut too?” you flinch at his words, clinging to oikawa’s t-shirt tighter as he merely laughs.

“you can- i’m not saying you can’t. but do you even know how to fuck a woman?” you shake as he pulls you away from him, cupping your face and tilting it up so his eyes can lock with yours. he always scrutinises you, taking in your watery eyes that waver with fear, your trembling lips that whispered begs fall from.

“what was that, sweetheart? i can’t hear you.” the only sound in the room other than the ignored television is your heavy pants as you can barely gasp for air. blood rings in your ears and your heart pounds, knees feeling weak as you cling to oikawa.

“p-please, tōru- d-don��t let them.”

“aw, baby.” your eyes clench shut as he grips your face, swiping his thumb messily over your cheeks, rubbing your tears into your flushed skin roughly enough that it hurts. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.” you groan when his hand suddenly reaches under your skirt, grabbing your clothed cunt as you squirm but he’s too strong, pressing his fingers against your clothed clit and rubbing it through the fabric as kindaichi and kunimi stare hungrily.

“tōru, stop it!”

“oh, don’t act like you don’t want it.” you struggle as he spins you around, forcing you to face the two men with your back pressed to his chest. one of his large hands easily grip both your wrists and the other rubbing your pussy through your panties. it’s humiliating, how they both stare at you like you’re nothing more than a piece of meat, darkened eyes lustful and hard outlines of their cocks pressing against the tight restraints of their jeans. “you were such a good manager to them too- it’s only fair you let them watch. besides,” you shudder as he presses a kiss to your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “they might pick up one or two things for when i'm not here.”

“please-” you try to turn your head to face him, pleading eyes wide. you’d been used so many times before. you’re exhausted by now. and now, there’s more of them to use you? would there be any end to this? “tōru, i-i’ll do anything else, just-” fresh tears build in your eyes as you try to wrestle his grip around your hands. it starts to feel warm between your legs, your panties growing damper. your toes are almost starting to curl in your socks as oikawa’s fingertips rub swirls on your swelling clit. “j-just not like this.”

“aw, that’s rude to our guests, y/n-chan.” you hate the feeling of his hot breath dancing on your skin between the open-mouthed kisses he presses to your neck and jaw, still damp with the tears that stream down your cheeks. “besides, you’re getting so wet. are you sure you don’t like this?”

“bet she loves it, the slut.” kindaichi scoffs, voice permeated with a groan as he palms himself through his jeans.

“oh, you bet.” oikawa smiles. his hands are forceful when they shove you onto the couch, making you groan as your back hits it harshly, but you have nowhere to run as he cages you in. his large hands grip your thighs, spreading them out with his nails piercing into the bare flesh of your thighs and you’re horribly aware of the little wet patch in the centre of your panties, clinging to your folds, when he tugs down your skirt, letting it pool at your ankles. your half-torn shirt comes off next, your bare nipples pebbling in the cold air.

“tōru-” it’s a pathetic pleading whine as you try to cover yourself up, try to push your legs together but you can’t, not with oikawa between them. “don’t want to.” it’s humiliating, it always has been every time you’ve been stripped bare and shared between a group of men you thought were your friends, but time has desensitised you to that. but now it’s different, it’s new yet nightmarish images flash in your mind. you had been so young then, so young and scared and feeble. and you’re falling back into that. or maybe you never left it.

“oh, don’t whine, baby.” he pouts, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

a gasp falls from your lips when he leans to your chest, his tongue flicking and swirling around your pebbled nipples, making your eyes flutter shut as you squirm below him. you don’t want the whines to fall from your lips but they’re hard to control. “she’s really sensitive here. look.” he rolls his fingers against the little buds, causing you to jerk and your toes to curl in your socks but hurt is etched all over your face, making oikawa simply laugh as he continues to flick his fingertips along your sensitive buds. “cute, right?”

“i bet she’s so wet.” sneers kunimi, his eyes flickering up from your chest to your face. through the hot tears brimming in your eyes you can clearly see the coldness he stares at you with. you’re nothing. there’s no mercy for the girl he’d respected as his senpai, his sweet manager-chan who he’d let ruffle his hair and tease him for being so lazy. you’re nothing but a mere- “slut.”

“look at her still struggling.” you whine at kindaichi’s snarl, but it bleeds out into a breathy gasp as oikawa wraps his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and lapping as he chuckles against your skin, kunimi scoffing with agreement.

“she does this a lot.” oikawa smiles when he releases your nipple with a wet pop. you feel like a little doll on display, there to be used for entertainment. and even though you’re not new to it, it still hurts all the same. more possibly. “but once you keep going,” his grip around your wrists tighten as he sits on your kicking legs, making you groan at the pain of his weight, and his other hand grabs your jaw forcefully, fingertips pressing into your cheek roughly. “she starts to like it.” the manic grin on his face sends shivers running through you that you fall frozen. all you can see is oikawa blaring in your mind like a horrible hallucination. “like the horny bitch in heat she is. she’s an insatiable cockslut.”

he prises your mouth open with his fingertips squeezing your cheeks and you flinch when he spits, a cold globule landing on your tongue. the horrible sensation makes you cringe but you’ve been conditioned, almost like a dog, that your pussy clenches.

“messy bitch.” you barely even get to process kindaichi’s words before oikawa’s shoving his fingers into your mouth, weighing down heavy on your salivating tongue. they edge towards the back of your throat, your throat tightening as you gag and you jerk under his weight, making them laugh sneeringly and stinging tears well in your eyes. how pathetic.

“she really is.” oikawa smiles, his eyes flickering between kindaichi and kunimi. “and she’s good with her mouth too. because she’s a good little slut, aren’t you?” he nods his head slowly, almost like he’s urging a toddler to speak and you can only glower at him through your tears with his fingers forced in your mouth. “go on, say it.” kunimi and kindaichi watch with keen interest, horrible smirks plastered on their faces and you can clearly see the way they’re palming themselves so eagerly. how is it all the men you’d trusted, the same men you considered good enough to be family, were all so depraved?

“y/n-chan…” you try to force the humiliating words out but it’s pathetic with drool bubbling from the corners of your lips, making you slobber all over oikawa’s hand and your own chin. your chest wrenches with the deep grunt kindaichi releases, the buckle of his belt clicking and a fresh wave of hot tears arise in your eyes again. this is embarrassing. worse than embarrassing.

“look at her crying.” says kunimi with a twisted smile on his face. “cry some more, bitch.” and you feel pathetic when you do, your face crumpling as hot tears run down your cheeks, your sobs muffled by oikawa’s fingers in your mouth. he groans as he slowly rocks his hips into you, grinding his erection against your body whilst kindaichi slowly strokes his cock.

“she looks pretty when she cries, right?” oikawa smiles.

you gasp for air, your throat feeling tight, when he finally rips his fingers from your mouth. strings of saliva break and splatter over your messy chin and he coos at the drool glistening off his fingers.

“messy girl. but it works as the best lube for your sloppy pussy, doesn’t it?” he releases your wrists and immediately you bury your sobbing face into your trembling hands, the tears running into the drool as oikawa spreads your legs wider.

“tōru, please- this is enough.”

“we’ve not even started yet, stupid bitch.” kindaichi growl cuts through harshly and you flinch when he grabs your hands, yanking it towards his cock. “just shut up and take it.” you recoil at the sight of his dick, slapped against his clothed stomach. he’s thick, the bulbous head leaking beads of precum and the prominent veins lacing along, but you don’t have a choice when his strength easily overpowers yours, grabbing your hand and spitting into the palm of it. his saliva feels horrible on your skin but it’s surely worse when he forces your fingers around his length.

“you’re a natural, kindaichi.” laughs oikawa. “do you like that, y/n-chan? do you like his cock in your hand?” you hate it. you hate the warm weight you’re forced to squeeze as kindaichi exhales heavily- but you barely get to cry out any protest before oikawa shoves his fingers into you.

it burns- three fingers already stretching you out with sharp scissoring motions that makes you gasp, your hand tightening around kindaichi’s cock and you hate the moan it draws out for him. oikawa isn’t usually like this- he’s rougher with his sharp fingerfucks against your spongy walls, your saliva mixing with the squelching wetness that fills the room.

“oh, she’s so tight just around my fingers.” oikawa hums. “just imagine how tight you’ll be around my cock.”

“and so wet too.” kunimi’s eyes are widened slightly as he watches how your pussy sucks in oikawa’s fingers, drenched in a thick sheen of your glistening slick. “fuck.” he groans under the sound of his zipper being undone and you cringe as you see him pull out his cock from the corner of your eye. it’s too much- warm pleasure begins to swirl in you, your toes curling at the rush as the pressure builds in the pit of your stomach, oikawa’s hips grinding his hard cock into your leg, kindaichi forcing you to stroke his length and kunimi jacking off right by your face. it’s horrible. it’s suffocating and you feel like you’re drowning-

a heavy moan falls from your lips and your hips jerk at the sudden hot flash of pleasure that rushes through you. a bright grin spreads across oikawa’s lips as his fingers stutter, and then he does it again. and again. his fingers rub against that sensitive spot that has the pleasure surging so much faster through you. your moans are harder to hold back, even though you hate them, but wetness drools from your cunt so much more.

“she likes that.” oikawa chuckles. “didn’t you say you didn’t want this? now look at you, soaking my hand and moaning like a whore.” you groan as he puckers his lips, spitting directly onto your glistening folds as slick dribbles down between your spread thighs.

“her cunt is so messy.” kindaichi murmurs.

“yeah.” oikawa exhales. “it’s this spot right here when you curl your fingers. it’ll make her cum so hard, just like a dumb whore she is. won’t it?” his voice sounds distant but his mocking tone is harsh as blood pounds in your ears and pleasure builds higher and higher. your skin feels hot and you’re so wet, walls gripping his fingers tighter. “you’re going to cum, right? cum now.”

your orgasm rushes through you, heavy and forceful as a string of moans fall from your lips. wetness gushes from your cunt, soaking oikawa’s hand in your release as your hips buck up into his hand, your own tightening around kindaichi’s cock. he and kunimi stare hungrily, entranced by the strings of slick that cling to oikawa’s fingers as he smiles proudly.

“wasn’t that nice?” you feel so fucked out. your mind is cloudy, blood pounding and heart racing as you stare at oikawa, dazed and breathless.

“she’s so fucked out.” kindaichi says and you don’t even flinch as he taps your cheek harshly, his fingertips stinging against your hot skin. “already?” oikawa hums in response as he unbuckles his belt, a happy smile painted on his face.

“oh yeah. it makes her a whole lot better to fuck when she’s a dumb, fucked out slut.”

he groans as his wet fingers close around his cock, spreading the slick over the veiny skin as his head falls back. he strokes himself slowly, squeezing the head and chuckling at the precum that oozes from the flushed slit.

“oh, this cunt is going to feel so good.” his cock is heavy as he slaps it against your swollen clit, making you jerk with the sensitivity but his hand pins your hip in place with a bruising grip as he slides his cock into your wet hole. with the amount of wetness pooling below you the sting is minimal but you hate his deep, pleasured groan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as your walls cling to his length.

“t-tōru-” his name falls softly from your lips and you want to push away at his hips, stop him from filling you up any further with his thick cock as the sensitivity makes you shudder. “t-too big.”

“take it, y/n-chan.” he grunts through gritted teeth. his hips are sharper as he pushes into you, making you gasp as it takes.

“that’s what you’re here for.” kunimi hisses. “you’re just a cockslut.” you flinch at his words, your face crumpling as tears stain your cheeks once more but this time it makes oikawa groan louder, his hands circling your throat as he bottoms out in you.

“oh, you look so pretty when you cry.” you hate the feeling of his wet tongue on your cheeks, lapping at your tears with his fingers around your throat, but it ends quickly when he quickly pulls away, frowning at kunimi. “you can use her hand, you know.”

the younger man doesn’t hesitate to snatch your hand, dragging it towards his cock and you shudder as he licks your clammy hand, his wet saliva coating your skin before he forces it around the base of his cock. he’s thicker than kindaichi, longer too, and a deep breathy moan escapes him as he forces your hand along his length, just like kindaichi.

“now watch.”

a cry escapes you and your head fall back as oikawa starts to pound into you. he’s rough and fast, cockhead almost slamming against your cervix and hipbones snapping into yours.

“h-hurts. please.”

“i said take it.” oikawa’s voice is a deep, primal growl, rumbling deep from his throat as his fingers tighten around your neck, squeezing the air out of you. your walls clench tighter, body tensing but it just seems to make it hurt more as your eyes clench shut, pain pulsating through you as he pounds into your cunt for his own pleasure. “or cry. i don’t care, it just turns me on more. right, guys?” a breathy laugh, half a moan, falls from his lips as kunimi and kindaichi chuckle in agreement.

“she looks like such a slut right now.” the latter breathes. his hips buck up into your hand faster as he watches oikawa’s cock drive into your cunt. “getting railed with two dicks in her hands.”

“well, she’s taken more than this.” oikawa smiles. “you know back when we were in third year, we could pull her into the locker room before a game and she’d jack all four of us off. a real cumdump.” he taps your cheek mockingly as you glower through your tears whilst kunimi and kindaichi both moan at the lewd idea, their hands around yours forcing you to pump their throbbing cocks faster.

“when we get her, i’m gonna ruin her.”

oikawa laughs at the idea, releasing your throat to cup your face as he continues to drive his cock into you. your wetness drools all over his length, squelching lewdly as he smiles sadistically.

“pretty when you’re get fucked, aren’t you?’ his sweet lips press against the corners of your mouth, soft and tender. but the palm that strikes your cheek moments after isn’t- your head swinging limply to the side with your tender skin burning. “she likes it rough, you know? anything goes really”

“oh yeah? this too?” your scalp burns when kindaichi tugs you and you flinch when he grips the base of his cock, slapping the warm weight against your wet lips and cheek. and you hate how it makes oikawa and kunimi groan, the former fucking you faster whilst the latter bucks his hips up into your hole, forcing your fingers into a hole for him to fuck his cock in.

“oh, i think she likes that, kindaichi. she’s squeezing so much tighter.” oikawa laughs as he finds your clit, swirling it slowly as he tugs your face back to him. you can tell he’s taking you in carefully with his sadistically gleaming eyes- he likes seeing your wrecked makeup, your tears and drool, the hurt and pain. “do you want to cum? i’ll make you cum now, baby. you’ve been so good for us tonight after all.”

it used to be a trap. he’s said it plenty of times before- but it didn’t stop until he wants it to. or iwaizumi, or whoever the fuck is using you.

so you have to take it- you take oikawa’s cock pounding into your tight hole, him spitting onto your drooling cunt and swirling your thumb whilst kindaichi and kunimi use your hands, bucking their hips up into your fingers. you don’t know how many times you cum, time blurring but you’re exhausted and your throbbing cunt aches as oikawa’s thrusts become sloppy, his fingers squeezing around your throat again.

“i’m going to cum.” he groans. “going to cum in this tight little cunt. oh, you’re going to take it, won’t you? you’ll take my cum just like the perfect little cumdump-” he breaks off with a loud string of moans, cock twitching and warm spurts shoot into your cunt, flooding your warm walls. and kindaichi and kunimi aren’t far behind- their cocks hang in your face as they jack off with fast pumps, deep moans and breathy swears falling from their lips as you’re forced to watch them till hot ropes of sticky cum shoot from the flushed slits, splattering all over you. it’s everywhere- clinging to the skin of your chest, your tear-stained face, your hair whilst oikawa’s loads drips from your abused hole.

“what a fucking mess she looks.” kindaichi mutters. he looks disgusted.

“a proper cumslut.” oikawa just simply laughs, brown eyes crinkling with sheer amusement.

“well, at least you guys know how to have a fun time so make sure you show her that next week. i’ll be angry at you kouhais if they don’t.”

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

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Fresh Starts

Leah (Stardew) x Selectively Mute She/Her Reader

A/N: Thought I’d try something different with this one. Sorry if I didn’t detail the instances of sign language very well, or if they are a little off, I did try. Also Kel is an asshol in this when they show up so get ready for that. Robin is cool mom and Abigail is the friend who is always ready to fight at the drop of a hat. Also, time is so weird in Stardew? There are four season in a year but each season is like a month so a year is like four months. Time is scary. I hope you like it! Word Count: 8,943

“So, someone has finally taken up that old farmland,” Leah heard Gus say to Harvey as he fixed the good doctor a drink at the bar, “‘Heard Lewis and Robin talking about it outside of Pierre’s yesterday.”

“Is that so?” Harvey was tired from a long day at the clinic, but being ever polite, he humored Gus and rested fully against the bar stool.

“Mhmm, looks like the old man’s kin is finally gonna make something of it. A few years late though I must say, that place is well overgrown. It’s gonna take a lot more than a little elbow grease to spruce up that dump,” Gus chuckled good naturedly and handed Harvey his beer, “I wish them luck, whoever they are.”

“Bah!” Leah jumped in her seat tucked away in the corner. Pam must have been listening in too. “If they’re smart they’ll just sell the heap of trash to Joja. M’sure they’d get a pretty penny for it.” Pam spoke bitterly. Shane, who was also quite drunk at this point in the night, took the opportunity to add his two cents in and yell across the bar.

“Why would they get your daughter for selling out to Joja?”

“That’s not what I meant, dumbass!” Pam roared back, slamming her beer on the table with a loud thump.

Leah decided she’d call it a night then. Without Elliott to crack jokes with, the saloon could get real depressing real fast with Shane and Pam racing each other to see who would get alcohol poisoning first. Even Clint was just sad to watch. The poor man sitting hopefully, waiting for Emily to even just turn in his direction. Leah finished the rest of her beer and paid Gus, giving the man a sympathetic smile as he left to cut Shane off.

Leah shivered in the cool spring breeze as she walked along the river bank to her cottage and her thoughts wandered back to what Gus had been gossiping about.

“A new face around Stardew Valley, hm?” Leah mused, kicking a stray pebble in her path, watching it skip across the cobbled stone. “I guess I won’t be the town newbie anymore.” She smiled and turned to look in the direction of Marnie’s home, knowing that the farm was somewhere just beyond. As Leah turned the key to unlock the door of her small cottage, she wondered what changes this new resident might bring.

***

“Have you met our new resident farmer yet?” Leah heard Caroline ask Jodi as she walked across the town square.

“I suppose you could call it that,” Jodi laughed, “It was a very brief meeting to say the least.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one then,” Caroline sighed, putting a hand to her chest in relief, “I thought I had offended the girl somehow, she never said a word. She just walked into the shop and pointed to a few seeds she wanted to buy, then she handed Abigail, Pierre and I daffodils and went on her way. Not so much as a sound.” Caroline explained, still bewildered by the interaction.

“Sounds about right,” Jodi nodded, “She knocked on the front door and handed me a single clam. Which was nice I suppose, but so very odd. She gave Vincent a daffodil too,” Jodi smiled, “He was very pleased. I’m sure she would have given Sam something as well if he could wake up at a more reasonable time.”

“Oh, Leah! Good morning!” Caroline had caught her. Leah put on her most sociable smile and walked forward, greeting the two women.

“Good morning Caroline, Jodi.”

“Have you been visited by the farm fairy yet?” Jodi asked, chuckling along with Caroline.

“I’m afraid not.” Leah admitted. “Although Elliott says I am a bit difficult to track down at the best of times.” She laughed good naturedly.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll get you sooner or later. She seems to be on a mission to greet the whole town. If you can call it a greeting I suppose. I don’t even know her name.” Caroline realized.

“It’s (Y/n).”

The three women jumped and turned to a grinning Robin, walking up to them with her yoga mat swaddled under her arm.

“Her name is (Y/n). She’s quite the character, huh?”

“Robin, you helped Mayor Lewis move her in didn’t you? What can you tell us?” Jodi asked, looking for any crumb of information she could get on the mysterious girl.

“Not much to tell,” Robin shrugged, “Just a sweet kid wanting to get away from the pressures of the big city,” she sent a knowing look at Leah, “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Leah laughed politely, twisting a finger around the tail end of her braid as blush settled in her cheeks faintly.

“But why is she so... you know, quiet?” Caroline asked.

“Hm, well, she did give me her blessing to explain should it come up.” Robin took a moment to think of how to proceed, absently tapping her fingers against her mat. “(Y/n) is selectively mute. She has the ability to speak, but she’s just not comfortable enough to do so at this time. This move was a big decision for her, and she’s excited, but it’s just gonna take some time before she feels secure enough to communicate orally.”

“And how did you get all this information out of her?” Caroline wondered.

Robin secured her yoga mat between her thighs and presented both hands, pointing her index fingers outward and drew a couple large circles in the air with the tips of her extended fingers. “Sign language!” Robin grinned, before taking a hold of her mat once more.

“Oh how clever!” Jodi praised. “I wish I understood sign language.”

“I’d be happy to show you a few of the basics sometime. If you really need to ask (Y/n) something though she will have no problem writing out answers for you.” Robin informed. “Now, are we working out today or...”

“I completely forgot!” Caroline smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, “Yes, let’s go. Poor Marnie is probably wondering where we are. Are you going to join us Leah?”

“I’ll pass, thanks. I’m heading to the beach to do some painting,” Leah explained, motioning to her bag.

“Alright, see you around!” Caroline, Jodi and Robin bid Leah goodbye and hurried to the general store.

Leah sighed, as much as she liked the people in this town they were so chatty. She could have been at the beach forever ago! Once she arrived, she saw Haley sunbathing. Not unusual, but as she kept walking closer to shore she saw Elliott splayed out over the sand laying on his stomach.

Leah rolled her eyes and walked over, playfully kicking the man’s arm, causing him to squint up at her.

“Is there some kind of new writing exercise I should know about?” She asked, playfully.

“I wish, this is simply writer’s block at its finest.” Elliott groaned. “That, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with this,” he sat up and produced a wild horseradish from his jacket pocket.

“Why do you have a horseradish in your pocket?”

“A girl I’ve never seen before in my life gave it to me. Then she took off before I could refuse. Didn’t even say a word.”

“She’s totally weird, but she did give me a daffodil so I guess she’s not that bad.” Haley called from her own spot in the sand.

“Has everyone met the new girl except me?” Leah wondered aloud.

“She’s been making rounds. I’m sure she’ll find you eventually.” Elliott said, resting his chin over his arms.

“You make her sound so ominous.” Leah laughed, lowering herself to the sand and taking out a sketch pad.

“A silent specter. A harbinger of-“

“Oh can it, drama queen,” Leah smirked, “so she gave you a horseradish, it’s not the end of the world. She was just trying to be nice.”

Elliott pursed his lips, propping his head up with one hand he turned the horseradish in the other offering it to Leah. “Do you want it? You’re all about foraging.”

“I mean, if you’re not going to use it sure. Put it in my bag.” Leah relented easily. Her eyes only leaving her paper to study the horizon for a moment, then continue to sketch.

Leah stayed on the beach with Elliott for a couple of hours, talking sketching, and painting. Finally she stood and stretched, patting the sand off the back of her jeans. “I should get going. See you around.”

“See you.” Elliott nodded, splitting off from Leah to head over to his shack.

Leah hummed to herself as she walked through town, making her way past Jodi’s house and entered the Cindersnap Forest. As she rounded the corner of her cottage, she paused in her tracks. Observing a young woman staring at her door with dandelions in one hand and her other poised to knock on the weathered wood.

Leah flinched slightly, she had stepped on a twig, snapping it and alerting her visitor of her presence.

Startled eyes met Leah’s own and the farmer straightened from her previous position, stepping back from Leah’s door.

She smiled shyly, giving Leah a short, jaunty wave before gesturing between Leah and the cottage a moment. Then she stood still. An expectant look on her face.

Leah simply stared back, blinking before she registered the silent question. “Oh! Yes, I live here. That’s my house. You’re (Y/n), right? Robin told me about you, I’m Leah.” She smiled kindly, coming forward to offer (Y/n) her hand to shake.

Instead of grasping Leah’s hand, (Y/n) cupped it with her gloved hands, turning Leah’s hand palm up and placing the dandelions inside.

“Ah, thank you.” Leah chuckled, “These will make a great salad.”

(Y/n) nodded vigorously, then moved to make her exit. Leah wasn’t sure what possessed her, but she called out to (Y/n) before she could get too far.

“Wait, I um, it’s not much but I did take an intro to ASL course my freshman year of college so, I’m a bit limited but if you ever want to talk, you know...” Leah wished she could stop talking right now. Why had no one told her that the farmer was cute!? “So, yeah, you know,” Leah fumbled with her free hand, her fingers sat just underneath her chin before she sent them forward, “Thanks again.” She smiled nervously.

(Y/n) stared at her, dumbfounded. Then she released a short, sharp exhalation of air that was reminiscent of stuttered laughter and turned back to stand before Leah. (Y/n) made a timid approach and gingerly took Leah’s wrist, still hovering midair, and guided the hand back to rest on Leah’s chin, just below her lip. Leah stood still as stone as (Y/n) held it there for a second then extended the hand forward. She repeated the motion twice more before backing away and releasing Leah from her gloved grasp. The smell of earth and grass still clung to Leah’s nose even after (Y/n) had stepped back.

“Oh, I did it wrong, didn’t I?” Leah blushed, “Is there a big difference between the two?”

(Y/n) blew out a large breath of air and nodded. One of her gloved hands came up to cover the amused smile fighting against her lips.

“What did I say? Was is embarrassing? Yoba, I need to know,” Leah carefully set the dandelions at her feet and rummaged through her bag. Taking out her sketch pad and a pencil, she flipped to a clean page and presented the materials into the rough fabric of (Y/n)’s gloved hands, “Please, tell me.”

(Y/n) shot Leah a sympathetic smile, then she looked down at the paper and wrote quickly and concisely. She looked over her work, nodded to herself, then she handed the sketch book and pencil back to Leah before jogging of in the direction of her farm.

“Eh- Hey! Wait a minute!” Leah took a few strides after the farmer but quickly gave up, electing to look at the paper in her hand instead. “Maybe I’ll tell you some other time. Nice meeting you Leah, smiley face.” Leah read aloud to herself. She scoffed, but couldn’t stop the smile that had conquered her lips. She couldn’t wait to see (Y/n) again.

***

“Hey, Maru-“

“I think I have a feeling about what this is about, but just in case, please proceed.”

The next morning, Leah had made her way to the clinic to visit Maru and perhaps get the answers she was looking for. She had made the trek to (Y/n)’s farm first, but she wasn’t there. A little note hastily taped to the farmer’s door revealed that she was spending the day fishing in the mountains and wouldn’t be back until late at night.

“Maru, you know sign language like your mom, right?” Leah asked.

“Sure do. Seb and dad do too.” Maru nodded, leaning over the clinic counter. “But I’ve got to tell you that if you’re looking for the meaning of what you accidentally signed to (Y/n) last night, we were sworn to silence earlier this morning before (Y/n) went fishing. Sorry.” Maru smiled.

“Ugh,” Leah sighed, leaning her forehead against the counter. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Well, it’s really funny. Especially considering how chill you normally are and your kind disposition.”

“Yoba, I really need to know!” Leah groaned against the counter.

“Well my family can’t tell you. You’ll just have to wait to hear it from (Y/n),” Maru grinned and pushed away from the counter, “I have to prepare for Evelyn’s check up now so I’ll see you around Leah.”

“Yeah, bye.” Leah grumbled, watching Maru disappear into the back offices. “Well, there goes that plan.” She mumbled under her breath as she left the clinic.

Leah spent the rest of the day sculpting in her cottage. She spent hours getting lost in the chipping of the wood before finally going to bed.

***

It had been days since Leah last saw (Y/n) and if the farming life wasn’t so demanding, Leah would have been worried that she had deeply offended the farmer to the point that she was purposely avoiding her. Leah decided not to waste the time she had been presented with.

She approached Robin about sign language lessons, enough to get some basic phrases and words. She practiced the motions herself, perfecting them to allow for no mistakes. Although she knew (Y/n) could hear her just fine, she found it easier to retain the lessons this way. Not to mention that it was just a useful language to know.

“I’ve hardly seen you around. I was worried you stabbed yourself with your woodworking tools.” Elliott said as Leah came up to sit next to him in the saloon.

“And you didn’t think to come to check on me?” Leah looked at the writer incredulously.

“Nope.”

Leah punched Elliott’s arm and he laughed. Before long, Emily came by with their food and they ate comfortably.

“Would you look at that.” Elliot spoke, pointing in direction of the door as he swallowed another bite.

Leah turned to look, purple irises sparkling at the sight of (Y/n) lugging a large bag up to the bar. She watched Emily talk (Y/n)’s ear off, the poor farmer smiled uncomfortably while trying to divide her attention between her and Gus who had apparently requested a variety of fish.

“Wow, Robin said you were in trouble but you really are,” Elliott chuckled behind his beer, “You really lit up just now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Leah scoffed, still watching (Y/n) hand Gus fish after fish. It was almost comical how such an objectively small bag could hold so much.

“You can’t keep your eyes off her. I realize the dating pool in Stardew is small, but the girl just got here.”

“Elliott, stop!” Leah blushed, looking back down at her plate to stab at her salad.

“I’m just saying, you’re already taking sign language lessons for her you might want to dial it back a little bit. You wouldn’t want to come off as the obsessive type.”

“Oh! She’s leaving, should I offer to walk her home? I’m going to offer to walk her home.” Leah dug in her pocket and pulled out some gold, pushing it over to Elliott.

“What did I just say?” Elliott called after Leah, as she eagerly jogged to the exit to catch (Y/n) walking in the direction of the Cindersaps, perfect!

“(Y/n), good evening!” Leah called jogging up to the farmer only to have the farmer gasp and take several steps away from Leah, holding her hands out as a warning to not come any closer. “I’m sorry, I’m didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” Leah gasped, maybe Elliott was right.

(Y/n) shook her head, slowly taking a step back towards Leah, presenting her slightly soggy bag and waving her hand in front of her nose, scrunching her face as she did so.

Leah was sure the movement wasn’t an official ASL sign, but it did help get the point across and she giggled.

“What? Do you think you smell?”

Another nod and a look that seemed to say that she didn’t just think so, she knew so. She had been in the mines all morning and fishing at the beach all afternoon. She couldn’t wait to take a shower.

“It’s alright, I won’t judge you,” Leah smiled, “Are you heading home for the night? I’d be happy to walk with you since it’s so dark.”

(Y/n) took a moment to think about it before nodding shyly and motioning Leah closer. Leah happily obliged walking alongside the farmer into the Cindersap Forest. The walk was mostly silent, but that was to be expected nonetheless, Leah was having a great time. They had even found a couple of leeks along the way which (Y/n) had insisted Leah keep. All too soon, they reached the porch of the old farmhouse.

“You’re crops look great,” Leah complimented, looking for an excuse to stay even just a few minutes more, “really healthy. What all have you been growing? Are those potatoes and turnips?”

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder as she unlocked her door. Her eyes focused on where Leah was pointing and nodded affirmingly.

“Yeah, I’m no farmer but I love foraging. I’ve got a few really good books about wild foods and where to find them and when. It’s kind of like a scavenger hunt.” Leah grinned.

“Mhmm.”

It was quiet, a little strained, but the small hum of agreement almost sent Leah into cardiac arrest. She sounded so sweet! Leah’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how widely she was smiling.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. So, I’ll see you around?”

(Y/n) looked like she wanted to say something, but settled for a simple nod, fiddling with the gardening gloves she had taken off. Leah smiled softly, watching how the farmer intently eyed the fabric twisting in her hands.

“Feel free to drop by the cottage whenever it suits you. I’ll leave the door open!” Leah added, waving over her shoulder as she turned to walk away. (Y/n) beamed, looking a bit more lively as she waved back.

Leah turned her back on the house and walked back to her cottage in the Cindersaps with a skip in her step and a painfully large smile on her face. Although it was already late, she prepared a new block of wood for sculpting. Her new muse had granted her a vision for a grand project and had the potential to be one of her greatest works yet.

***

“Kel, I told you to stop calling me. I’m not coming back to the city, we are through.” Leah frowned, her hand gripped the phone receiver so tightly that she could hear the plastic giving slightly under the pressure.

She was so focused on combating Kel’s useless bargains that she hadn’t noticed the timid farmer show herself in, looking at Leah’s tense shoulders and back with concern. (Y/n) flinched as Leah cut off Kel to speak again, her voice low and stern.

“There is nothing you could say, nothing you could offer me, that would make me come back. Move on, and please, for the last time, do not call me again.” Leah slammed the phone down on its perch. Pressing her palms into her eyes she let out a frustrated groan, slowly positioning her hands to rub at her temples to combat the headache she felt coming on.

Then she heard the door creak.

Leah quickly turned around just in time to see (Y/n) looking back at her with wide eyes and lips pursed thin as if she had been caught witnessing an event she had no business seeing. Which was partially true, but Leah had told her a week beforehand that she could drop by anytime.

“(Y/n), what a pleasant surprise!” Leah grimaced, watching (Y/n) flinch and look down sheepishly at her feet. One had managed to retreat back out the door before being caught and it was slowly joined by the intruding foot, so (Y/n) was fully outside again. Leah shook her head and calmly approached the farmer.

“Please don’t leave, I’m the one who told you to come let yourself in whenever. I’m sorry you had to hear all of that.” Leah was worried, watching (Y/n) linger in the doorway. Her shoulders relaxed when (Y/n) cautiously came back inside and closed the door behind her.

(Y/n) stood in the entryway and looked over Leah, her eyes filled heavily with concern. She raised a hand, pointing to Leah before signing the letters ‘o’ and ‘k’.

“I’m okay. I’m just,” Leah fumbled for the right words, “mad, sad? Exhausted.”

(Y/n) made another gesture, shaping her fingers into a ‘hang loose’-esque sign. Her curled fingers meeting her chin. She lowered the hand momentarily to give it a controlled shake before bringing it back up into the starting position.

“What’s wrong?” Leah mumbled, making sure she understood. (Y/n) nodded. “I just got a phone call from someone I didn’t want to talk to is all,” Leah sighed, “They’re an ex of mine. The person who called.” Leah disclosed, rubbing the back of her neck, agitated.

(Y/n) signed again, but Leah didn’t quite catch it that time so she motioned (Y/n) over to her dining nook and sat her down with some paper and a pencil. The farmer seemed a bit unwilling to write it out, feeling like it was more insensitive somehow but with a little prodding from Leah, she gave in.

“Was it a bad break up...” Leah read aloud. She sat back in her chair and carefully chose her words. “Sometimes it feels like we’re still breaking up,” Leah chuckled wryly, “Kel, my ex, didn’t like me perusing art. They didn’t think I could make a living out of it and wanted me to waste away at some office job and well, I didn’t want that. They weren’t respectful or supportive of my dreams, so I left. They call me a lot though, to try to convince me to come back to the city... that I won’t make it as an artist. That I can’t be happy without them. It really is exhausting and the worst part is, I worry that they’re right.” Leah released a shuddering breath, “I haven’t sold a single piece. I don’t really even know how to start. I can sustain myself on what I have in my savings account for only so long.”

(Y/n) covered Leah’s hand with her own, squeezing it. Leah marveled at how soft it was in comparison to her own, especially since it was the hand of a farmer. Perhaps the gloves (Y/n) always wore had more practical uses rather than simply being worn for aesthetic’s sake. Leah chanced a look at (Y/n)’s face and was caught off guard by the determined fire blazing in her eyes. Then Leah’s attention was brought back to the table as (Y/n) furiously scratched the pencil against the paper and forcefully pushed her newly composed message in front of the sculptor, her other hand still rooted over Leah’s.

Leah read over the note and felt her heart ache with appreciative warmth. ‘You were brave enough to know what you wanted and even though it wasn’t easy, you went for it. That in itself is an amazing accomplishment that you should not take lightly. Your dream is not unfounded either, I’ve seen some of your sketches and paintings and I think you are very talented. Once you figure out how to put yourself out there you’ll have people begging you to take their money.’

Leah sniffed and smiled at (Y/n) appreciatively, turning her hand to reciprocate (Y/n)’s strong, yet gentle hold on her. “Thank you, (Y/n). I just wish I knew how to start.”

(Y/n) tapped her chin with the pencil as she thought. When she had an idea, she pulled the paper back to herself and wrote a suggestion.

“An art show? Oh, I don’t know (Y/n). It hardly seems possible.”

(Y/n) shook her head in disagreement and wrote more.

“You really think the town would want to help? Are you sure you want to help? You’ve got enough on your plate already with how busy the farm keeps you. I don’t want to impose.”

(Y/n) looked as if she had something to say, her throat bobbed and her lips twitched, but in the end she settled for the paper again, still too anxious to speak. After Leah had read the reply, she felt (Y/n)’s thumb rub against her knuckles and looked up. (Y/n) nodded, her expression serious. She wanted to help Leah with this.

“Thank you, (Y/n)!” Leah sniffled, holding back tears. She launched herself into (Y/n)’s arms and hugged the surprised farmer close. “Thank you so much!”

(Y/n) slowly returned the hug, smoothing one of her hands over Leah’s back in comforting motions. It was a bit of an awkward position with (Y/n) still sitting at the table and Leah hovering over her, but it felt nice.

“Sorry,” Leah chuckled after a moment, leaning back and wiping a stray tear from her eye, “I kind of caught you off guard with that didn’t I?”

(Y/n) shrugged and smiled good naturedly. A look came over her face as if she just remembered something and she stood up to grab her bag from the cottage entryway. She grinned when she found what she was looking for and made her way back to Leah, holding out a brown paper package to her.

“For me?” Leah asked. (Y/n) nodded and gestured for her to take it. Leah carefully unwrapped it and gasped. “(Y/n), is this goat cheese? I love this, how did you know?”

(Y/n) raised her hand, signing the letters ‘E’ ‘L’ ‘L’ ‘I’ ‘O’ ‘T’ ‘T’.

“Elliott hm?” Leah laughed, “I’m glad you two are getting along after the horseradish debacle.”

(Y/n) crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. She wasn’t looking back on the memory fondly.

“Hey, I’m with you on this one. He was being an ass. How could you have known he hated horseradish.”

(Y/n) nodded in agreement, one of her hands reaching out as if to say, ‘exactly’. She then noticed the time on Leah’s clock and signed that she had to go.

“I see.” Leah smiled sadly, trying not to let her disappointment shine through. “Good bye then, and (Y/n),” Leah signed ‘thank you’, very mindful of the position of her hands this time around, “seriously thank you for everything.”

(Y/n) beamed, giving Leah a thumbs up before heading out the door.

***

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Leah kept mumbling to herself while watching her fellow Pelican Townies set up her creations in the town square. There were already some tourists looking around and Leah felt her nerves fraying.

“Hang in there, kid. Everything looks great. Don’t worry so much.” Robin snuck up on Leah, making her jump. “It’s a beautiful summer day, don’t forget to enjoy it.”

“I’m trying, Robin. It’s just so much.” Leah said, nervously playing with her sleeve. Robin noticed Elliott walking up and motioned him to help deal with the artist while she went to help Demetrius move a heavy wooden sculpture.

“Come on now, Leah. Too late to back out now.” Elliott grinned, thumping her back. “(Y/n) seems especially excited by how things are progressing.”

Leah chanced a glance at (Y/n) and Maru putting up paintings between signing each other excitedly. The scene warmed her heart and her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try.”

“Great, now let’s go woo some tourists.” Elliott said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“What? Elliott, no!” Leah shook her head.

“Not like that,” Elliott laughed, “I know your heart belongs to someone else. I just meant,” he looks around before whispering in Leah’s ear, “woo them out of their money.”

Leah laughed and pushed Elliott away. “Alright, you focus on the wooing and I’ll focus on explaining my thought processes.”

“That doesn’t sound as fun, but okay, this is your day.”

As Elliot and Leah made their way across the square, an unwelcome guest watched them from afar. Their blood boiled as they saw Leah pause at the makeshift painting gallery to give the farmer’s hand an affectionate squeeze.

***

“I can’t believe we sold so many!” Leah spoke in ecstatic disbelief as she waved at the last car she and (Y/n) had just loaded a heavy wooden sculpture into before it drove away. “This is crazy!”

(Y/n) wore a smile that matched Leah’s, happy to watch the sculptor bouncing in place. When Leah finally stilled, still giddy, she took both of (Y/n)’s hands in hers. Once again free of the gloves, the hands were pleasantly soft against her own and she relished in the feeling.

“(Y/n) I know it’s kind of late, but I have something I want to give to you. I left it at my house so I’m going to go get it. I’ll meet you at the farm, is that alright?”

(Y/n) stared at Leah, her curiosity piqued. She nodded, easily giving Leah the answer she was hoping for.

“Great! I’ll be there soon!” With one last squeeze of the farmer’s hands, she was off. (Y/n) heard the crack of a twig, but when she turned to investigate, nothing stood out so she made her way back to her farm to wait for Leah.

When Leah came up to the porch, (Y/n) had to do a double take at the big wooden statue she was lugging along. With one last huff of air, Leah placed the statue at the base of the steps and grinned up at (Y/n), wiping a bit of sweat from her brow.

“Thanks for waiting. It was a little more ah, heavy, than I expected.” Leah laughed sheepishly. “Come take a look.”

(Y/n) stepped off the porch and circled the piece, taking in every detail. Leah felt nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach while she watched the farmer scrutinize the work and cleared her throat.

“I started working on it in the spring. I also incorporated some of that driftwood you gave me a few weeks ago. Anyway, I made it with you in mind. It’s called, ‘How I Feel about (Y/n)’ and I’d be honored if you would accept it as a gift for everything you’ve done for me.” Leah stared at her feet as she spoke, too embarrassed to keep her eyes on (Y/n) while she spoke. Then a pair of boots joined, hands came up to clasp her own, pulling the conjoined grasp into her line of vision and coaxing her to look up into (Y/n)’s eyes.

“It’s wonderful.”

At that moment, Leah thought her heart must have been beating so hard that it was affecting her hearing.

“Hh... huh?” Leah asked, rather dumbly.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly, took a deep breath, and whispered, “It’s wonderful, Leah. Thank you.”

Leah looked absolutely awestruck, purple irises shone with excitement and she laughed, pulling (Y/n) into a tight embrace.

“I’m glad you like it.” Leah sniffled, resting her face in (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Leah?” (Y/n) wrapped her arms around the artist, it was only one word, her name, but Leah heard the concern in the farmer’s tone.

“I’m okay. I’m just happy,” Leah sniffled again, “I’m happy you felt comfortable enough with me to speak to me.”

“Me too.” (Y/n) whispered, holding Leah tighter.

The pair found it difficult when they had to part ways for the night, but they were equally excited over how their relationship was developing, looking forward to spending more time together over the summer.

***

“Come on, just a little further...” Leah coached herself. She was reaching for a piece of fruit hanging from a branch just out of her reach.

She had planned a picnic with (Y/n) for this afternoon. She had already set up under the big old tree near the pond and as she waited for (Y/n) to finish up with her crops and animals for the morning, when she spotted the unusual fruit. Now she was jumping and stretching for the fruit just out of reach.

“Almost— Ah!” Leah struggled to balance herself in the air, swiveling her head to peak over her shoulder, she saw (Y/n) looking up at her with a mischievous grin. Leah rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the side of her lips. She turned back to the task at hand and grabbed the fruit, motioning (Y/n) to put her back down.

“Show off.” Leah scoffed, lightly punching (Y/n)’s shoulder. “You wanna try a bite?”

“Yes, please.” (Y/n)’s cheeks heated when Leah pressed the fruit to her lips. She took a bite of the offering, savoring the taste. “It’s so sweet.” She said, amazed.

“Right?” Leah smiled, “It’s rare to get fruit from this tree. Usually all the animals snap it all up as soon as they’re ripe, but it seems they miss some from time to time. How is everything with the farm this morning?”

“All is well,” (Y/n) nodded as the pair made themselves comfortable on the blanket Leah had set up, “I would have been here sooner but the goats kept standing in front of my cheese and mayo machines, the chicken coup too. Made it a little difficult.” (Y/n) disclosed. “Which reminds me,” she rummaged through her bag, “goat cheese salads.”

“Mmm, this looks heavenly. Thank you for making these.” Leah said, eagerly stirring in some vinaigrette into the generous fresh salad.

“No problem. Selling my harvest is nice, but it feels so much more rewarding enjoying it like this.” (Y/n) informed, mixing her own salad.

“I can imagine,” Leah hummed and leaned her back fully against the trunk of the tree, “Ah, it’s such a lovely day for this.”

“Mhmm.”

They ate the rest of their meal in peaceful silence, listening to the birds sing and the fish leap, the breeze rustling the trees and grass around them. It was tranquil, it was perfect.

“Hey, Leah,” (Y/n) spoke, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” Leah asked, turning her gaze away from the sketch pad she had brought out.

“It’s almost Fall you know, we’ve known each other for nearly two whole seasons. Half a year, it’s crazy, right?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long, doesn’t it?” Leah giggled, “What made you think of that?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you something. Don’t feel like you have to answer one way or the other, but...” (Y/n) paused, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Hey, it’s okay (Y/n). You can tell me anything. Sign it out if you want to.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just nervous,” (Y/n) turned to her bag and pulled out a lovely bouquet of flowers, “Leah, would you maybe consider being my girlfriend?“

“Yes!” Leah enveloped (Y/n) in a tackle like hug that sent them both to fully meet the ground, accidentally crushing the flowers between their bodies, “Oops, sorry,” Leah wiggled the flowers out from under her to look at them more closely, “these are lovely, (Y/n). I didn’t know Pierre had these in yet.”

“He didn’t, I planted them.” (Y/n) clarified, smiling up at Leah who still hovered over her, giggling.

“Of course you did, you’re so sweet.”

“I try.”

“Are you kidding me!”

Leah and (Y/n) quickly turned to face the disturbance, scrambling to sit up from their compromising position. Leah felt her stomach twist with discomfort seeing Kel of all people marching up to them, absolutely fuming.

“Seriously, what the hell, Leah?” Kel yelled, their hands clenched into tight fists as they closed in, making yard after yard disappear between them.

“No, more like what the hell, Kel? I broke up with you seasons ago. What are you even doing in Pelican Town?” Leah retorted angrily, as (Y/n) helped her to her feet. Kel watched the motion and ground their teeth.

They were already dangerously close to crossing the threshold of the blanket and that small display was enough to send them stomping over the edge.

“I came for you, obviously! I’ve been slumming it in that dusty old saloon since your art show, waiting to talk to you! Now I find you sucking face with some country bumpkin nobody!” They seethed, stepping even closer into Leah’s personal space until (Y/n) pulled Leah back behind her, making Kel even more incensed. “You stay out of this. I’m talking to Leah!”

(Y/n) held strong, stuck between the harsh obscenities attacking her from the front and the loving affirmations defending her from behind. She held her arm out, willing Kel to stay back as she slowly started to guide Leah back in the direction of town for help. Kel ignored the warning and followed after them.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? You think you’re being some kind of hero right now?” Kel seethed.

(Y/n) stayed silent, she had gone mute again and who would blame her in the face of such a tense situation? She was so very uncomfortable, scared even, but she continued on passed Marnie’s since she knew the woman wasn’t home at this time and she sure wasn’t going to expose Jas to this. Jodi’s house was their next best bet.

“Hey, you obviously want to start something here. You’ve got something to say to me?” Kel continued forward.

“Kel, leave us alone!” Leah commanded, “It’s over, it’s been over, go home!”

“You think you’re too good to talk to me?” Kel yelled, ignoring Leah. “She’s just a whore. She just latched onto the first warm body she could find after her little meltdown. You’re not special.”

(Y/n) froze stiffly in place, Leah felt the muscles on her shoulders tense so she tried to pull on her arm to keep her moving.

“Ignore them, (Y/n). Let’s focus on getting to town, okay?” Leah pleaded. But (Y/n) gently pushed off Leah’s hands and took a step towards Kel with a cold glare. Leah stepped to stand beside (Y/n)’s side, nervous that a more serious confrontation was about to unfold.

“Well?” Kel spat.

(Y/n) crossed her arms, turning her head to look at Leah. The look on her face was all the communication Leah needed to understand. It was definitely a, ‘they better back off or I’m going to knock them off their block’ face. Leah had never known (Y/n) to be particularly violent, but with all the time she spent in the mines, she had no doubt that she could take care of herself.

Leah gasped when Kel suddenly roared, lunging forward. Apparently they had not liked how (Y/n) and Leah had been paying attention to each other rather than themself. Kel had rocketed forward and aimed to punch (Y/n) hard over her cheek, however, at the last moment, Leah pushed her aside and took the blow for her.

(Y/n) inhaled sharply and caught Leah as she stumbled back, noticing how blood immediately began gushing from Leah’s now broken nose.

“Ow- AH!” Leah cried, her hands muffled her voice since she had covered her nose and mouth.

It only took a second for (Y/n) to return the favor to Kel’s stunned face. She punched them fast and hard over their cheek, but Kel was quick to fight back and now it was a full out brawl.

“What’s going on, we heard yelling— holy shit!”

Leah turned away from the fight to see Sam, Seb, and Abigail running up on the scene.

“(Y/n)’s throwing hands!” Abigail yelled, sounding way more excited than worried.

“Leah are you okay? What’s going on?” Sebastian asked, noting the concerning amount of blood running down Leah’s arms and the front of her shirt.

“Don’t worry about me, stop them!” Leah winced, taking one hand away from her face to motion to her ex and her new girlfriend still going at each other.

“Damn, Abi! Go get your dad and Harvey too by the looks of it!” Sam yelled, he seemed to be looking for an opening to push the fighters apart.

“Are you kidding? You get my dad, I’m getting in on this!” Abigail cheered and ran up to jump on Kel’s back like she was at a rodeo while (Y/n) landed a good hit on Kel’s stomach. “Nice punch, (Y/n)!”

“Oh Yoba, Sam, start running.” Seb suggested, trying to help Leah with her nose. He was no Maru, but even he knew how to set a broken nose. Especially within the first couple weeks of Sam taking up skateboarding.

“Right!” Sam ran off back into town screaming. A few tense minutes later and Pierre, Caroline, Robin, Elliott, Maru and Harvey came running behind Sam to break up the fight.

“Abigail, stop!” Pierre huffed, pulling off his daughter and passing her off to his wife, “I taught you what I did to defend yourself, not to lash out like a wild animal!” He grunted, pulling Kel into his grasp and trapping their arms behind their back with Elliott coming up to assist.

“Come on dad, I was helping a friend! What’s the big deal?” Abi groaned, while her mom fretted over her, looking for injuries.

“Easy there kid, it’s over.” Robin coaxed (Y/n), pulling her back. The farmer slumped over in the carpenter’s hold, breathing heavily.

“Is (Y/n) okay? Ah!” Leah hissed as Harvey touched up her nose, giving her a nasal spray before wedging a couple wads of tissue up her nostrils.

“Sorry, Leah.” Harvey sympathized, “Maru is going to check up on her now.”

“What about me?” Kel hissed. Pierre had them resting on their knees. They looked really roughed up. A black eye was already forming and scratches and bruises littered their skin, they were also holding their stomach rather tightly.

“You’ll just have to wait a minute.” Elliott frowned, staring down at the stranger with contempt.

“Don’t you have any police officers in this backwater town? I’ll sue every one of you for withholding care to someone who is obviously hurt!” Kel threatened, grinding their teeth.

“Oh, the police are coming alright!” Caroline spoke indignantly. “You are in no position to be asking for anything right now, bringing violence to our community, you should be ashamed!”

“(Y/n) can you look up for me, please.” Maru asked, carefully tilting (Y/n)’s chin up. (Y/n) sucked in a breath when Maru touched her bruised jaw a tad to hard. “Sorry, Your jaw is bruised pretty badly. Your bottom lip split too. How is your vision?”

(Y/n) shook her head and winced, cradling her head in her hands.

“Okay, possible concussion. We’ll need to observe her at the clinic.” Maru said.

“Alright, come on bruiser,” Robin grunted, heaving (Y/n) to her feet, “Sebbie, help me walk her into town please.”

“Sure mom.” Seb took (Y/n)’s other side.

(Y/n) patted Robin’s arm, motioning her to wait. She slowly turned to Kel and leaned more heavily against Seb as she freed her other arm from Robin to snap her fingers aggressively, looking for Kel’s attention. Once Kel looked up at her, sneering from their spot in the dirt, (Y/n) turned briefly to make sure Leah was watching. When she saw that she was, she smiled as if to say, ‘watch this,’ and turned back to Kel. (Y/n) brought her flat, angled hand below her chin and sent it forward in the direction of Kel’s confused, but no less, pissed face.

“Oh ho! (Y/n) is such a badass!” Abigail laughed.

“Abi, since when do you know sign language?” Sam asked, clearly confused.

“I don’t, but I’ve spent enough time searching curses in different languages to know that was totally a ‘fuck you’. Personally I think a middle finger approach would have been an appropriate classic myself but whatever.” Abigail shrugged.

“Abigail, language!” Caroline scolded.

“Sorry mom.”

“Alright, you’ve had your fun. Clinic, now.” Robin tried to hold in a laugh as she repositioned (Y/n)’s arm over her shoulder. Then she and Seb began walking (Y/n) back into town.

Leah made to follow, but as they were leaving, the police from the the next town over had arrived and they needed her statements as a witness. Never mind that she was covered in her own blood and her girlfriend was being dragged away to the clinic with a concussion. Once the officers were satisfied, they took Kel away with promises to be back for (Y/n)’s statement and to see if any charges would be made. For now they were just going to take Kel back to a hospital in Zuzu City since they may have broken a rib or two in the fight. After that, they were going to be free to go.

Leah wasn’t too worried. She didn’t think Kel would come back after the beating (Y/n) and Abigail gave them. She watched the police car drive out of Cindersaps, taking her disgruntled ex away.

“Leah, I’m sure you want to get to the clinic but you should really clean up first.” Caroline had said patting the younger woman’s back. “(Y/n) will be fine.”

“Yeah, Harvey and Maru got her. Take some time to process.” Elliott smiled.

Leah could only nod tiredly. She trudged over to her cottage to shower and change. She still couldn’t believe how quickly things got out of hand. She looked at her bandaged nose in the mirror, hissing when she gingerly touched the bridge of it. She was wary of Seb setting it himself, but Harvey said he had gone a great job. Once she was physically put back together, Leah quickly made her way to the clinic.

“Where is she?” She asked immediately upon arriving. She sounded a little congested thanks to her clogged nose, but she was easily understood. Robin was still in the waiting room and filled her in.

“Harvey and Maru are talking her through concussion care. She’s okay, but I don’t think she’ll be allowed to work for awhile.”

“Oh no,” Leah sat down, resting her elbows on her knees and covered her eyes with her hands, “This is all my fault.”

“Aw, don’t say that sweetheart. You know that’s not true.” Robin frowned, taking a seat beside her, “(Y/n) would hate to hear you think like that.”

“(Y/n) loves her farm! If she can’t maintain the upkeep...” Leah continued, teary eyed, only to be silenced by Robin.

“I’m going to stop you right there. Nothing is going to happen to the farm. Abi, Sam, and even Seb already told (Y/n) in no uncertain terms that they were going to pitch in while she recovers. Everything is going to be taken care of.” Robin assured.

“Still none of this would have happened if-“

“If you hadn’t broken up with your ex? Moved to Pelican Town? Got a crush? Leah, you can’t punish yourself for moving on with your life. You’re allowed to be happy.” Robin chided gently. “It was hard for me and Sebastian’s father to see eye to eye at the best of times. Now I have Demetrius and although he can be a bit annoying sometimes with his tomato bullshit, not a day goes by that I’m not grateful I took that first step because I love him.” Robin smiled.

Leah’s nose hurt like hell as she tried to carefully wipe the tears from her eyes and Robin rubbed her back affectionately. Once Leah had calmed down, Robin stood and stretched.

“She’s been wondering where you are. The doc is keeping her for overnight observation, but your welcome to stay with her. I on the other hand, am apparently too old for this much excitement and need to go home.”

“Thank you Robin, for talking to me.”

“Anytime,” Robin grinned, “now go get her.”

Leah made her way into the back area of the clinic and nearly ran up to Harvey, Maru, and (Y/n). (Y/n) was signing to Maru while she relayed the information to Harvey as he examined (Y/n)’s well being.

(Y/n) was relieved to see Leah and eagerly motioned her to come sit on the edge of the bed she was sitting in which Leah did happily.

“Leah, how’s the nose?” Harvey asked while he finished up (Y/n)’s chart.

“It’s fine. Just, really sore and tingly.”

“So not fine.” Maru chuckled. “I’ll get you some pain meds.”

“Ah, thanks Maru.” Leah smiled sheepishly.

“Well, Ms. (Y/n),” Harvey sighed, turning his attention back to the farmer, “you and I are in for a long night. I’ll be waking you up every hour to check your pupils to see if your condition changes at all.” Harvey stood and stretched, “Ms. Leah, feel welcome to stay as long as you like. It can’t hurt to keep an extra pair of eyes on her.”

“I could stay overtime, Harvey.” Maru said as she came back with two pills and a glass of water for Leah.

“I seem to recall you talking about a time sensitive experiment this morning.” Harvey recalled, making Maru smack the side of her head. “You’re right! I got to go now! Good night everyone!” Maru called behind her as she rushed out to the waiting room then out of the building.

“I’m going to take the first of my many naps lined up for tonight. I’ll see you ladies in about an hour. Try to get some rest.” Harvey said before leaving to walk up the stairs to his apartment.

Finally Leah and (Y/n) were alone again. (Y/n) sunk down into the covers and sighed deeply. She turned to face Leah, concerning the sculptor by how small she looked.

“You’re not too upset with me, are you?” (Y/n) asked, surprising Leah.

“I’m not upset with you. Why would I be upset with you?”

“I just beat the crap out a person. Sure they are your ex, but you cared about them at some point so it must have been hard to watch. I can’t imagine what you must think of me now.” (Y/n) whispered, she was so quiet Leah had to lean closer and even then she was straining to hear.

“(Y/n), I like you. Nothing that happened today changed how much I like you. It certainly didn’t make me like you any less,” Leah rested her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek, “Kel made their choice when they decided to come to Pelican Town and confront us. I wish it hadn’t gone down the way it did, but that’s not our fault. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too. I was worried.”

“I wish we could start this day all over,” Leah moaned, “First day as official girlfriends and we get into a fist fight.”

(Y/n) laughed lightly, closing her eyes to combat the pain that came from her jostling. “Abigail thought it was a pretty great date activity.”

“She would think that.” Leah rolled her eyes, “she also eats rocks.”

“Well, think about it this way. Until I’m allowed to take up all my farming duties again, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“Whatever I want, hmm?” Leah tapped her lips with her index finger, “would it be to forward if me to ask for a kiss?”

“You may, just be careful with my split lip. I won’t be able to explain what happened to Harvey if you make it worse.” (Y/n) said.

“One gentle kiss, coming right up.” Leah wiggled on the bed’s stiff hospital sheets until she laid face to face with (Y/n). Their lips met in a soft brushing that was almost ghost like, but rather than leaving them with a chill, warmth bloomed between them.

“Wow.” (Y/n) grinned.

“If you thought that was good, wait until I can get more involved with it.”

“So confident. I like it.” (Y/n) squinted, “could you turn the light off? It’s really starting to hurt my eyes.”

“Of course.” Leah got up and switched off the half the lights to keep their side of the room in darkness but allow Harvey to still be able to see when he came back.

“Now come cuddle, please.” (Y/n) asked sleepily reaching her arms out.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Leah kicked off her boots and shimmied under the sheets to join (Y/n) and wrapped her arms around her. Leah let the exhaustion of the day roll over her and she had nearly let sleep claim her before her eyes shot open and she propped herself up on her elbow to lean over (Y/n).

“Did I really sign a ‘fuck you’ when we first met?!” She asked, appalled.

(Y/n)’s response was to laugh sleepily into Leah’s chest.

#stardew valley x reader #stardew valley oneshots #sv leah #stardew valley leah #leah x reader #sv leah x reader #stardew valley leah x reader #stardew valley

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legends-live-in-memories · 3 years

Text

Picture Perfect

AYO! its me back with more content for the second time this week while i ignore my other wips again. this is a lil gift for @queen-o-leen who i promised wholesome content for! I hope you like it!

Timinette/Timari Oneshot 1.9K words (not related to my other timari oneshots)

Summary:

“Tim spends a nice day in a park in Paris and takes a picture of a pretty girl.

He somehow gets an almost date out of it.”

no warnings this time. completely family-friendly. I know i surprise myself with this one too.

without further ado

He would be the last to admit that Jason was right and that time away was what he needed at this point in life but it can’t be ignored that, for the first time in possibly three years, Tim was having a wonderful day. He was having a wonderful week actually. After one too many unsuccessful cold cases and the simmering anxiety of off-world missions, his family, primarily Jason, for some reason, demanded that he take some time off and away from his unusual brand of normal. How that meant being sent across the Atlantic Ocean to Paris of all places, he wasn’t entirely sure. Alfred probably had a hand in that decision given that, as part of his forced vacation, Tim was not allowed to actually plan any of it. Him. Timothy Jackson Drake. The guy who stalked and manoeuvred his way into Batman’s house and team. The guy who tracked and found said man when the universe thought he was dead but was actually drifting through time. Yeah, Tim was not pleased about being led blind on his vacation.

At least Paris was a nice city. And he brought his camera. He figured he could use this time to get back into old hobbies and what better hobby to start up again in the city of love than photography? He’s taken pictures of every tourist attraction worth visiting by his second day and began to take candid shots of people and animals. Would Damian like the animal pictures? Maybe, if they came from someone who wasn’t Tim. Is he going to try and give them to him anyways? Absolutely not. He liked his liver where it is, thank you very much. They would serve as great bribing material however. But that’s a thought for another day.

Right now he was working on capturing what could possibly be described as the stereotypical outing with friends. He’s sitting along some bushes near the entrance of a park and staring at a group of teens his own age hanging around. He spots a brunette with thick curls of hair animatedly speaking with a guy in a vibrant cap. She’s waving a camera herself, and he appreciates her taste in equipment. Her eyes spark with fox-like mischief while the cap guy has a peaceful aura about him; like an old turtle. Next he sees a blonde, her hair is in a ridiculously high ponytail and she’s in a deep conversation with a red head off to the side of the whole group; her words are rushing out of her and she’s a buzzing bee with excitement. Another blond is in the area, but he sits in a broad patch of sun possibly napping with an open book on his chest. Very cat-like Tim supposes. He barely pays them more than a second of thought however. No.

His focus is on the quaint beauty directly in his line of sight. She’s poised up against the giant tree trunk with a sketchbook in her lap and pencils surrounding her. Her hair hangs by her shoulders in twintails and it’s a colour so dark it seems to absorb the shade of the tree. She’s scribbling furiously on the page before her and her tongue is slightly peaking out to the side. Her forehead is creased with stress lines and her shoulders hunch slightly over her frame. She’s the vision of deep concentration and dedication and Tim would be a fool not to capture her. He’s gotten wide shots of her companions but now he wants to focus on her.

Looking through the lens of his camera he zooms in on her profile. When his camera focuses, he spots a constellation of freckles across her cheeks, barely there, almost blending in with her complexion but Tim is nothing if not hypervigilant. He goes to take another photo when a bug flies into view. It’s a ladybug. It lands precariously on the tip of her nose and it’s just the thing that breaks her out of her work-induced trance. Tim is watching her now, long forgetting to click the shutter. Her eyes cross as she stares intently at the black-spotted creature and its presence seems to amuse her. She’s giggling to herself, as if sharing an inside joke with the bug and reaches a slim finger to swipe the insect gently from her nose. She inspects it and smiles a smile so soft that not even a feather could compare. He feels like an intruder. More so than one who takes pictures of cute strangers in public.

Coming back to his senses, he takes another picture, the final picture, and lowers the camera from his face. He looks back at his temporary muse and finds that she is already looking at him. Her head tilts in confusion. Apprehension. Possibly a bit of fear. Which is valid given that Tim was pointing a camera at her from across the public park. What should he do though to quell her fears?

He felt his face lift into a grin; he didn’t need to look at himself to know it was awkward and forced. A shrug of his shoulders and a flimsy wave of the camera in his hand was the only thing he did. Before he could begin to stumble over himself in apology, however, she surprised him. With a cautious hunch, her shoulders brought up to her ears, and an embarrassed smile to match his own, she slowly flips her sketchbook around and he comes face to face with, well, his face. It was a portrait of him. She had drawn a portrait of him. And she was showing him. Feeling embolden, he flips his camera to show her the screen but she’s too far away. He gets up on unsteady legs, cramped from his uncomfortable position, and begins a slow stride towards her. She meets him in the middle.

“Hi.” He barely speaks those words. They’re more like an exhale or a sigh of relief that he hadn’t scared her off.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind the drawing.” Her voice is high and light. Like a spring breeze. She’s daintily waving at him and he sees that her fingers are rough, and calloused. Unexpected but he finds it rather charming. Before he could get another word in, she’s off like an engine. “I just saw you there, and you had your camera so I figured you were taking pictures of us and thought that if you were then you wouldn’t mind me sketching you in kind but I should have asked and I’m sorry for breaching your privacy—”

“Wait, slow down.” He fears that if he hadn’t interrupted her when he did she would run out of oxygen. Did she even breathe during her spiel? A voice in his head, that sounds like Cass, utters a soft ‘pot, kettle’ and okay, he sees a lot of himself in her mile-a-minute style of speaking.

“No need to apologize. I’m flattered, truly. You were right, I was taking pictures of you. And your friends!” he hastily adds that last part. He turns his camera so the display screen faces her and he feels himself hold his breath in anticipation.

A blush rises to her cheeks, red like the ladybug that interrupted her. He quite likes that colour on her. His eyes drift to the sketch and he’s further impressed by her skill. She has an eye for detail. He notices a bird in the background. It’s a robin. That piques his interest and lights a flicker of fear within him.

“May I ask,” he begins slowly, unsure of what that little addition could mean. Did she know? How could she? Was his identity compromised?

“Why did you draw a robin in the background? It’s lovely but I’m curious,” he finishes. He’s going to play dumb until he has more information. She seems taken off guard by the question and raises her shoulders to her ears again in an embarrassed hunch.

“Well,” she starts, but she seems unsure and the words die on her tongue. She tries again.

“I just saw it fly by and then it landed behind you. So I thought ‘why not?’ and drew it. It seemed fitting.” She wasn’t looking him in the eye and now he felt kind of felt like a jerk for baselessly accusing some random girl. Of course it was just a coincidence. This bat-paranoia was going to be the end of him one day. It’s by sheer miracles and luck why it hasn’t already.

“Oh, no worries. It just surprised me because it’s my favourite bird.” Right. Lie to the pretty French girl. But what else could he do? Tell her the truth?

“Then it’s a cool coincidence, huh?” She seems encouraged by that tidbit of information.

“Yeah, pure luck on your part.”

“What?” She seems more startled at that than Tim thinks she should be but before he can think deeper into it she speaks again and he would be a fool to not give her his undivided attention.

“Why did you take a picture of me with the ladybug? If you don’t mind me asking.” That stumps him because, to be honest, he does not know why himself. It just felt right. So he tells her as such.

“Well that would be another coincidence because ladybugs are my favourite insects.” She gives him a full smile alongside that statement and the brilliance of it almost blinds him. He wants to capture that smile for eternity.

The thought strikes him. He doesn’t want this moment to end. He knows by the Friday of next week he’ll be flying back to Gotham where it’s business as usual and Red Robin won’t have time for commitments and puppy love. But right now? Right now Tim Drake is on vacation with a week and half left and all the time in the world to entertain the idea of a spring romance. Making the decision, he goes for it and takes the chance.

“I was getting a bit hungry. Do you know anywhere that’s good to eat at?” It’s an offer, open to interpretation. If she just lists some place, he knows where her interests lay. If she offers to escort him somewhere, then she’s taken the bait for exactly what it is, an invitation for more; whatever more is. He hopes she takes the bait.

“Yes I do actually! My parents own a bakery just outside the park.” Her enthusiasm is uplifting and the offer of a place so personal is a good sign in Tim’s book. “Let me show the way, and I could join you if you would like.”

“Perfect. That’s wonderful. It will be my treat since you’re going out of your way on my account.”

“Nonsense. Like I said, it’s my parents’ bakery. They’ll be more than happy to give some complimentary snacks.” She loops her arm around his and begins to drag him to the park gate. She’s strong and her grip is firm and Tim feels lightheaded at the ease with which she pulls him. He can’t help but be swept up in the tides that is this girl.

“I’m Tim, by the way. Tim Drake.” He offers his name, something he should have done at the beginning.

She looks back at him over her shoulder and he’s caught up in the oceans of her eyes. They’re alight with joy.

“Nice to meet you, Tim. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

They’re almost by the bakery now, he can smell the fresh baked goods from here, and he can’t wait to sit down and get to know this girl better. Maybe get her number by the end of their lunch.

Yeah. Tim was having a wonderful day.

#timari #timinette #maribat #ml x dc #family-friendly content #who would have thought #tumblr dont fucking try me

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nad-zeta · 3 years

Text

A Chance Encounter

Pairings: Vlad x Reader

Words: 1700+

Comments: Eeeeeek and so it continues hehehe! 🥺😳😳🌸//dances around! Cutie Appreciation weekend activates! hehe, hope ya enjoy love! Hehe thanks cutie for always indulging me with all my random spam and never failing to make me smile!😆❤❤❤🥺🥺 hehe sending alllll the sparkles! Hope you are taking care of yourself and taking it easy today! ✨🎉🎁🎂

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ

Amid the springtime season, your life was destined to change forever. To leave in a month but to stay an eternity. Something that you had never anticipated to happen when you had first arrived. Why you chose to remain persists to be a mystery. The door larch released after a month, yet standing before the grand oak door on the day of your supposed departure just felt off, felt wrong, felt almost as if you were going back to a word you did not truly belong in.

You never understood your own impulsive decision. Despite having befriended all the mansion’s residents and making a new home there, you felt lost, almost like a sense of searching, a longing type feeling, like you were still looking for a home—a place you belonged— a place where your heart would feel at peace.

With wistful eyes, you scanned the pages upon pages of poetry, looking for an answer, looking for comfort, but finding none. That is, until you first spotted him, striding past the bookstore window. Gaze catching sight of wisps of white hair dancing in the springtime breeze. Your heart latched forward, eyes following the figures until he was out of sight, yet the memory of him remained with you long after he had disappeared from view.

Eyes focusing back on the book of poems before you, you almost had to laugh at the poem emanating from the pages, it certainly had your hopeless romantic mind running away from you— giving hope for an answer soon to be solved. Regardless you smiled at the little poem leaving a flower bookmark in place to remember.

‘Well, from the moment I first saw you,

there was a spark of peace and mutual energy

that will forever rest inside my brain and in my thoughts.

It was so strong that I constantly think about it

and wonder if that is something

that could be permanent for me rather than a brief moment of interaction,

a brief exchange of hope and energy.

I couldn’t help myself but to be close to you,

someway- somehow.

I believe there are only a handful of people

that come across your path

that can make you feel more than simply human.

You, yes you, you make me feel alive, hopeful, and assured

that there is more out there.'

Weeks had gone by, and still, you had not come across the white-haired stranger again, the memory of him steadily fading from your mind as daily tasks occupied your time. The newest of the errands being to pick up a dozen fresh sunflowers to celebrate the resident angel’s birthday.

With a ring of the bell above the carved mahogany door you entered into the local flower shop—a quaint little shop in the middle of the busy Parisian streets. The storefront perfectly decorated with scatters of seasonal summer flowers, enticing any person passing by to visit the floral boutique. And the inside of the store was every bit as welcoming, with flowers littered on every corner of the store, drawing your eyes about.

“Welcome, can I help you with anything,” the quiet voice came blooming from the front of the shop, drawing your attention away from the delicate blue flowers and deeper into the workshop.

A tiny gasp left your lips when you finally realized that the source of the gentle voice was from the very man who had been plaguing your mind for weeks now.

You took a few clumsy steps towards the front counter, heart hammering in your chest. You felt silly for having a crush on a man you had never even uttered as much as two words to, yet here you were— Legs heavy as led, pulse racing, and sweat dripping down your back.

Your mind swam with a million thoughts, yet your mouth refused to speak. The delicate man raised a brow at you, head tilting curiously to the side as you slowly made your way closer. You trained your gaze down, fingertips nervously playing with the seams of your sleeves as you finally mustered up the courage to stutter out your request, “I-I uh, am here to pick up an o-order.”

Your eyes finally drifted up to catch sight of the slither of a smile ghosting across his lips, and you swore your heart melted then and there. Vlad’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he watched your face flush, ‘cute,’ he thought as he leaned down to grab hold of the order book.

“Ah, let me just find it for you.” He carefully placed the book down on the table before his gaze returned to yours, “your name?” he asked politely.

“Van Gogh,” you practically yelled out, eyes widening— appalled at yourself for the sudden outburst. You gripped your sleeves, knuckles white, wishing the ground would spare you the embarrassment and just swallow you whole.

“I-i mean, the order is under van Gogh, my name isn’t van Gogh” you awkwardly corrected, wanting nothing more than to bang your head against the table in mortification— but then it reached your ears—the sound of his soft melodious laughter slicing through the tension.

His laughter was light and airy, like the gentle summer breeze ringing like the garden chimes. It sparked the memory of a poem you had come across, bringing a whole new meaning into your life.

“Calm the winds as angels sing.

Lovers’ tune and flowers bring

little buds caressed by dew

sending pretty thoughts of you.”

“Sunflowers,” he stated between huffs of delicate laughter, closing the book and making his way to the backroom to retrieve your order.

The moment he was out of sight, your hands shot up to cover your warming cheeks; you felt like a schoolgirl being confronted by her crush. Keep it together, you hissed to yourself, eyes squeezing tightly together as you tried your best to focus your mind on the business at hand.

The sound of his tender voice broke the silence once more as he returned carrying a dozen bright yellow sunflowers in his arms, “adoration, loyalty and longevity.”

“What?” you questioned, eyes bright with curiously as fingers fidgeted with the strands of hair framing your face— in an attempt to calm your restless heart.

“The meaning of the flowers, adoration, loyalty and longevity,” he repeated happily, placing the flowers down on the counter. There was a beat of silence before you came back to your senses, realizing that you needed to pay the man. The soft smile never once left Vlad’s face as he watched you nervously scrabble around for the coins to pay for the order.

Finally, you found the pouch of money Sabastian had given you to pay for the flowers, and thrust it out towards the man, eyes meeting his crimson reds. They were beyond stunning, shining in childlike mischief yet holding an archaic air.

Warm hands gently wrapped their way around your delicate little ones, “It’s on the house,” he spoke, this time a spring-like smile dancing across his features.

Your breath caught in your throat as you struggled for words, “b-but I insist, I can’t just take these for nothing.” Again you pushed your hands forward, leaning closer to emphasize your intent.

“Then,” he paused, contemplating his following words carefully. It had been long since Vlad had opened his heart to another. Yes, he loved the human race, but he had never truly allowed himself to fall in love. However, there was something about you, in the way you talked, the way your every thought fluttered across your gorgeous features that captivated him, that drew him in, like a moth to a flame. “Then how’s about you spend the afternoon with me strolling the botanical garden, and we will call it even?"

The rest of the interaction was like a happy blur. You didn’t even remember how you had gotten home or even what you had done in the time that had passed; all you knew was that you were now excitedly strolling down the cobbles stone path amid the vibrant flowers in the large botanical gardens.

It had been weeks since your first interaction with the man and every day since, you had visited his flower shop, idly chatting away about anything and everything that popped into your mind. After the first date together, you knew you had fallen, hard.

“What are you thinking about?” his gentle smile played across his features, ruby eyes gazing down lovingly at you. You returned his smile with one of your own, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze as you made your way through the gardens to your favourite spot.

“It’s a secret”, came the words, eye twinkling with mischief.

“Oh? You won’t tell me?” The corners of his lips lifted to form an impish smile.

“Nope!”

“Well, then I have no other choice!” His eyes shone with affection as he gently lifted your hand and started to twirl you around.

Your laughter filled the serene area causing a few raised brows from all who passed by. Not that you had a care in the world, especially being beside the love of your life.

Just then, he stopped, pulling you closer to fall against his chest, only, he had lost his footing and went tumbling backwards with you to fall straight on top of him with an ‘oooof’.

With widened eyes, you gazed down at him, an apology on your tongue, stopped only by the boyish chuckle that escaped him.

His hand came up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and fingers tenderly brushed over your cheeks. Time stood still between the two of you, each gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes before you broke the silence, “a secret for a secret,” you blurted out.

Immediately following it up with a confession of your own to prompt the man to spill the beans. “I love you with all my heart,” the secret left your lips as you beamed down at the man, dusting of pink blooming across your face.

“And I, you,” Vlad returned in a soft hum.

He reached over and plucked a delicate blue flower from the nearby bush. He twirled it between his fingertips for a few moments before securing it between the strands of your soft hair.

“Forget me not,” he said, his face softened with pure love for you.

Your silly grin continued to widen, and with a brush of your nose against his, the response left your lips, “not even for a moment.”

Your eyes soon fluttered closed as the affected words were whispered against his lips before they were sealed in a feather-light promising kiss.

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ

poems: There you are, Painting Love With Words

#And with appreciation week continuing on #i continue to butcher our beloved cutie vlad #sorry cutie #not my fault cybird hasn't released your route in eng yet #hehehe although i could have asked mama to check these #gaaaaaah although i took a page outta neemos book and didn't proof read #just post hehehe #you can thank my thesis for that #lolol #anyways done rambling in the tags #Vald #ikemen vampire vlad #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp vlad x reader #vlad x reader #vlad

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nalu-love-4-life · 3 years

Text

Dragon Swan Song

Author’s Note:

It’s been a very long time since I wrote a drabble on Tumblr for NaLu. But I have had an itch lately to write something for them, because I haven’t written anything passionately in a very long time, and what could be more fun to jump back into writing than to write about my OTP?

I hope you all enjoy this short NaLu drabble where Natsu is a knight assigned to protect the princess, Lucy!

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The skirt of my dress flowed freely around my ankles as I paced back and forth from the end of my bed to the chamber doors. A feeling of impending dread was steadily building in my stomach and each time I stopped to take a breath the anxious knots only seemed to pull tighter. The late morning sunlight streaming in from the balcony created patches of heat on the cool stone floor. While the warmth on my skin brought brief comfort, my thoughts were still troubled and they swirled in my head, going ‘round and around, making me dizzy. My pacing stopped only when I heard a low rapping on the doors behind me.

“Excuse me, Princess. I’m coming in,” a husky voice called.

I swiveled around and straightened my back, and hastily tucked a couple loose strands of hair - which had fallen over my face - behind my ear. After clasping my hands together with a firm grip, I answered, “C-come in!” There was a momentary pause before the doors opened and a familiar mess of pink hair peaked into view.

Natsu, I thought with a soft sigh. I could already feel my worries sliding off from my shoulders. As he stepped into the room, I could see his firm build. He stood almost a foot taller than me and his skin was tanned from spending long days training in the sun.

“Princess Lucy, is everything alright?” He asked. “I could hear your footsteps from the other side of the doors. Is there something on your mind?” His voice was deep and sincere, but the formality of his speech felt strange.

“Y-yes! Everything is fine, really. No need to worry. I’m just overthinking some plans that my father had proposed to me this past evening.” I did my best to brush his concern away with a smile and a curt wave of my hand, but the crease between his eyebrows remained and his lips did not move from the slight frown they were set in.

“Hmm,” he hummed aloud. “Well, though I believe you’re telling me the truth, I cannot take your words at mere face value.”

“Huh?” I questioned.

“You don’t look like you’re in full health, Princess. So I will do my own inspection to make sure you are feeling well,” he said in a raised voice while peering down the long hallway. I waited with anticipation as Natsu quietly shut the wooden doors. He paused, and I watched his shoulders rise and fall as he slowly breathed in and out. When he turned around and looked at me I could see the glimmer of mischief dancing in his onyx eyes.

“Natsu,” I said. “What are you doing? It’s the middle of the day. We could be caught!”

He smirked, briefly flashing his sharp canines. A jolt rippled down my spine and my heart beat faster in my chest.

“We’ll be fine, Luce,” he said. Natsu took a couple steps closer to me. He had a confident air about him. “Anyone who was around thinks I’m simply checking on the princess to make sure she’s feeling well. Nothing wrong with that, right?” He raised his eyebrows and the devilish flare grew in his eyes. My knees wobbled underneath the intensity of his stare. As he entered further into the room, the sunlight illuminated the details of his face. I couldn’t help myself from studying him.

The old scar that ran down his right cheek stopped at his jawline, and another stretched across the right side of his neck. The rough skin healed a bit darker than his normal shade, which only made them appear more prominent. His cheeks were dusted a soft rose giving him a healthy and youthful likeness. Light freckles speckled the bridge of his nose and under his eyes, but if you weren’t looking close enough you wouldn’t think he had any at all. There was a bit of dirt on his forehead and his hair was in mild disarray, so he had probably been training in the courtyard or tending to the horses in the stables earlier. My eyes continued to scan over his face. I didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Like what you see?”

“Huh?!” Startled, my concentration broke and our eyes locked.

Natsu chuckled and closed the little distance that was left between us. His smile was warm. “You’re cute when you get lost in thought,” he muttered bringing his right hand to rest on my cheek. It was as if there was fire in his fingertips. His touch was gentle, but every one set my skin ablaze. I could feel the rough callouses on his palm that had formed from years of hard work wielding his sword and perfecting his skills.

“Don’t tease me like that,” I pouted. My hair fell loose around my shoulders as I turned my head to the side.

“Aw, come on, Luce. I was being serious,” he whined, but the slight twitch at the corners of his mouth gave away his amusement. A gasp escaped my lips as I felt two strong arms circle around my waist and pull me forward. Our bodies pressed together and the palms of my hands rested on his chest. All I could think about was how firm and strong it felt.

“Natsu th-this is embarrassi-!”

“You really are beautiful, Princess,” he murmured. His voice was low and tender and every word sounded so sincere. I really admired that about him. Though sometimes he could be honest to a fault, it was just another one of his many charms.

He used his hand that was on my cheek to brush the hair from my face and place it back behind my ear. “There they are,” he said. “Hey, Doe Eyes.” A quiet chuckle rumbled in his throat.

“Hi,” I whispered almost breathless. Natsu smelled like warm linen and earth, with a hint of something sweet, like honey or vanilla. I wished that I could bottle that scent so I could revisit it whenever, but did my best to focus so I could at least commit it to memory. His dark eyes held me as a willing captive and I couldn’t tear myself away. As frustrating as his teasing could be at times, I was never more at ease than when I was enveloped in his embrace. Whenever it seemed like everything was turning upside down and I felt as if I could float away at any given moment, I could always count on him to tether me and bring me safely back to solid ground.

His face relaxed as he scanned over me. “Now,” Natsu said clearing his throat. “Are you gonna tell me why you were pacing so much? Your footsteps were so loud, I bet everyone in the castle thought an ogre was stomping around in here.” Natsu’s eyebrows lifted and his lips puckered ever-so slightly. I could tell he was holding in laughter.

“How dare you!” I huffed and pushed against his chest so that he would relinquish his hold on me. “And just when I thought you were being genuinely sweet for once.” I crossed my arms over my chest and marched onto the balcony.

There was a cool spring breeze and the sky was bright blue with thin white clouds floating lazily overhead. I positioned myself so that my arms rested against the thick metal railing that overlooked the castle garden. All of the flowers were in full bloom and their many scents mixed in a harmonious melody which filled the air and swirled around me. I took a deep breath in to fully appreciate the wonderful aroma. As my muscles began to relax the sound of heavy boots came closer to my turned back.

Natsu stood quietly beside me with his back leaned against the railing. He craned his neck to the side and looked across the castle grounds. “You always did enjoy the garden, didn’t you?” He asked, although it seemed like it was more of a statement to himself. “Even when we were kids, if you were ever upset you’d always go someplace where you could see the flowers.”

I glanced at him from the side. “Of course I like the garden,” I sighed. “The flowers are pretty, it’s always quiet, and I can lose myself walking around in it. I can pretend like I don’t have a care in the world—like I can do whatever I want—be whoever I want—love whoever I-” I stopped myself and turned to look at Natsu. He was smiling at me, but it was small and there was sadness underneath. Natsu shifted his eyes away from me and turned around so that he faced the garden. His broad shoulders slumped forward and his weight pressed down on his forearms that he’d rested on the railing.

“Do you remember that day?” He asked. “When we met?” I ran my eyes over his face, trying to discern what he might be thinking. “You were picking daisies in the far corner of the garden to make a makeshift crown, and I was running from Makorov ‘cuz I accidentally tore a hole right through his trousers with my sword.”

“As I recall, you caused that tear because you were sparring with Gray again over who was going to get to eat the last slice of Miss Mira’s strawberry shortcake that she’d baked earlier that day,” I mocked. “But then Erza knocked your heads together, claimed it for herself, and ate it right in front of you! So neither you nor Gray got any cake and you were both punished for fighting—no sweets for a whole month!” I raised my hand to cover my mouth as I laughed.

“Y-yeah… Erza’s scary,” Natsu muttered.

I stood with my hands on my hips and gave a disapproving stare. “I haven’t forgotten how you ran straight into me and crushed all of my daisies before I could make that crown, by the way,” I said. “And you caused me to fall face first into the dirt and ruin the new dress Father had gotten for me, too,” I huffed. Natsu grimaced and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his hair.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” he said. “I remember getting an earful about that too.”

I scoffed in mild amusement. “It’s fine. To be quite honest, Father always ordered the most stuffy dresses back then, anyway, and the one you ruined was particularly stifling to wear,” I said. “Especially when I was out in the garden.”

“Well, I wish you had said something back then before Erza chewed me out for that in between mouthfuls of cake,” Natsu laughed.

“Why would I when it’s so amusing to see how you and Gray shake like puppies when she scolds you?” He pretended to pout at my taunting which only made me laugh more. “Miss Erza’s not so terrible, you know,” I said gaining my composure.

“You only think that because you’ve never had to fight her. After one training session I can barely move for days whenever she’s put in charge of combat practice. She’s merciless!” He whined.

I giggled and Natsu turned his head so he could look at me. His eyes were serious when they met mine. Something about his steady gaze threw my stomach for a whirl. “W-what is it?” I asked.

Natsu shifted his weight and stood tall. His stature blocked the sun and cast a shadow over me. To someone else, he might seem scary using his full height to his advantage like this. But to me, he was no more threatening than a dragonfly.

“Lucy,” he said. His voice came off stern but his eyes were almost pleading. “Tell me why you’ve been so stressed lately. I won’t continue to pretend like I haven’t noticed.” Natsu took my hand in his. I could feel his thumb tracing gentle circles over the tops of my fingers. Unlike before, he kept a respectable distance between us and was careful to hide our clasped hands behind the railing.

We couldn’t risk the groundskeepers or any other castle attendant seeing us, and the balcony was a very public spot. Any affectionate display witnessed by the wrong person was sure to circulate through the castle grapevine, and there would surely be repercussions to face. I knew this, of course, but I still felt my heart longing.

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Author’s End Note:

I hope you all enjoyed this first installation of this NaLu drabble as much as I enjoyed writing it! Sorry to leave you all on a bit of a cliffhanger there but it was getting much longer than originally intended haha Should I continue it and make it a real story? If you want more please like, comment, and/or DM me and let me know what you think! And make sure to follow me on here on tumblr for any updates on this story and so you don’t miss any other Fairy Tail NaLu drabbles or fanfic posts/art or story reblogs!

❤️ nalu-love-4-life

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blissfulparker · 4 years

Text

In between the lines→Professor!Tom

Parings→professor!tom x reader

Summary→Your toms favorite student and wants to make you his TA. But what if the both of you also want a little more?

Warnings→CONTAINS SMUT!! so if you don't feel comfortable do not read. Teacher/student relationship, all characters are over 18!

A/n→ hi! so this is my first professor!tom fic, let me know how you guys like it! this is also one of my first fics where I go into detail with smut but not too much so like I said if you don't feel comfortable don't read! Let me know how you like it! also im extremely close to 8k thank you guys so much!!!!!

(Not my gif!!)

The desk creaked under you. You shifted for what felt like the millionth time in your seat as you listened to your professor speak. You typed the notes on the board as you listened to the british accent that faded in and out with your day dreams. Mr. Holland wasn't like other professors you had, he was young, probably the youngest professor you've ever seen.

You remember on the first day of school how he asked the class to ask him questions to get to know him. A few girls who thought they were cute for asking, asked about his age and if he had a girlfriend. He only laughed along-but was most likely uncomfortable-and told the class how he didn't have a girlfriend but his age was a secret. How he could be 25 or could be 56. Everyone knew though knew he was extremely young, some even thought that he had to have some sort of affair with a teacher to get a job here at such a young age.

“(Y/n) are you still with us?” His fingers snapped and you came out of your daydream. About forty kids between the age of 18-23 were staring at you. Some girls in the back snickered as he referred to you as your first name, something he rarely did.

“Yes.” You choke out feeling too embarrassed.

“Good, started to worry I was boring you too death.” He jokes pacing back and forth. The students chuckle and you hide deeper in your chair. “I’d like at least one of my students to excel.” He comments with a playful smirk. Some still laugh the others stare at you in envy knowing your intelligence.

He continued with the lesson until the end of the class. Looking at the clock as if he too needed somewhere to be.

“Do we have any questions?” he asked the class, his hands clasped together as he looks around the room and even locks eyes with you at one point. His eyes were soft, gentle but slightly sexy. “No? I guess i'll see everyone on thursday then.” he smiled and everyone was quick to pack their bags and either go home, work, or to their next class. “Essays will be in by friday, if you have questions my inbox for emails is open!” although no one cared enough to listen to his words, even though it was important, everyone was far too focused on their weekend plans.

“Mrs.(y/l/n) if I can see you for a second please?” He pushed himself away from his desk and walked around it. Waiting until all the students left to speak to you. He watches as the door slammed shut from the last student.

“I-I’m sorry for zoning out.” If he was going to call you out for your little daydream then why hadn’t he called out anyone else? You could name the people who had zoned out during his lesson. You could name all the times too.

He chuckles before picking up his pen and flicking through his papers to find yours. Your essay you submitted two weeks ago. A day early because you always feared something would glitch. It was emailed twice which Tom thought was cute. You had carried an extra copy in your bag Incase he’d lost the one you’d given him. You always came prepared.

The one that caught his eye, you were gorgeous of course. To him at least. You were beautiful. But you also had a Artistic way of writing that spoke to him. Yeah he’s had students here and there where he’s looked at their work and thought how incredible they’ll be in the future but he knew you were already going to be something else.

“That’s not why you’re here.” He licks his fingers as he grabs your paper from the stack. “But thank you for calling yourself out.” His eyes flick to yours and then back to the paper.

“Then why am I here?” You adjusted your strap. It was the first day of spring, the weather was blissful and so you wore a pencil skirt and a cardigan, one only half buttoned up and didn’t leave much to the imagination. He couldn’t—he didn’t want to imagine all the boys who’ve touched you. Promised to love you and failed. Kissed you like they were starving but nothing more.

“This essay is the hardest essay for me to assign besides the spring final.” He explains and you fiddle with your fingers out of nerves. “I hardly ever have anyone get a B. I’ll be honest I feel terrible for assigning it but I have to do it. I always tell my students that all of them tried hard and the grade they got isn’t a reflection on how good or bad they write. And I grade honestly, I do, I don’t cheat students out or anything. Three years ago I got a boy who got a 82%.” He taps on your essay and you’re still confused as to why he’s having you stand here. “You got a 94%.” He places your paper in front of you. You’re proud of yourself, yes, but you’re still confused as to what he wants, a celebration? You to thank him? What did he want?

“You had a spelling error that marked you two points, you had a few sentences that repeated themselves, and capitalization got messy at the end.” He watches you as you look over your paper. Looking at the notes he’s left and the marks. There wasn’t a lot, not a lot at all. Just eight pages filled with tiny notes in sloppy red pen and a few marks at the end.

“Thank you?” You told him. Proud of yourself on the inside, you didn’t know how to express it on the out.

“How did you do it?” He asked to get up and come around the front. Taking the paper back from you he looked for answers.

“What do you mean-“ you started and he cut you off.

“How did you get the A? How did you write your paper? You’re smart, extremely smart. So what is such a smart girl doing in my class?” He asked and you felt yourself heat up.

“Just wanted something easy I guess.” You swallow hard as he comes over to the front again and stands in front of you.

“Easy?” He chuckles. “My class is easy for you?” He takes it as a joke but you don’t see much of what’s funny.

“I guess.” You shrug. You signed up for his class fearing it would be the hardest and it was, you just worked really hard to get the grade you desired.

“Do you know what grade you have in this class?” he asked you and you balance yourself on his desk, his scent was strong. Ocean breeze mixed with something else. Maybe you just now understood why girls fell so hard for him. You now had the front row view of him and could see the pool of honey that made up his eyes, the freckles that danced across his face, how his bottom lip pouted out more when he spoke. How when he gripped the desk a vein popped out of his arm.

“A-a 89%.” you swallow hard and he hums. He was all too intimidating. He was all too much.

“You're my best student you know,” he spoke in a lower voice. “I wanna offer you to be my TA next semester. You'll need practice on your writing more and brush up your analyzing skills but nothing I can't teach you, nothing you don't already know.” his hand too close to yours on the desk. He almost caresses it, almost lets your fingers touch yours. but that makes him creepy, if you didn't want it like he did then that makes him disgusting.

“A TA position?” you asked shocked and he presses his lips together and nods. He has your knees weak, you're melting and he knows it. He knows what he's doing and you can't tell if he wants you as much as you want him.

“Yes,” he moves his hand away slowly from yours as he drags himself back to his chair. He looks up at you and you can see deep behind his soft honey eyes there is something more he wants than you to be his TA. “think about it. Let me know your thoughts and if you have any questions feel free to ask. My office and email are opened all the time so let me know.” he looks at the essay in your hand that you stole back from him and you drop it knowing you cannot keep it.

“Thank you.” you swallow hard once again and hopes he doesn't notice your shaking hands and nervous body. You know you're going to take it, spending more time with the hottest professor and making yourself look good for your future was an obvious yes. You just didn't want to say it immediately in front of him, you wanted to tease him like he did you.

It was 7pm. Mr. Holland had no class right now and his words of his office being open at any time ran through your head. You wore the same outfit as you did earlier in his class, you didn't know how much it drove him crazy but it did. Finding his office was easy, but having to knock on the door and speak to him was the hardest part. You press your ear against the door to hear typing. He was in there so that was promising, you could see a faint light through the glass and a blurry outline of his face as he wore his glasses and looked up at his computer.

Two knocks was all it took, your fist hitting the door twice was all it took to hear the gentle sound of his voice telling you to come in. your fingers wrapped around the golden door knob and let yourself in. the sound of his quick typing stopped as he looked up to see you. So shy and innocent looking at the frame of his door.

“(Y/N), its lovely to see you again.” he sat up more and you cleared your throat as you shut the door behind you.

“I wanna take your offer. A-About the TA position.”you told him strongly but that confidence faded at the end. he has a little smirk forming on his face as he lowers his laptop to give yoy his full attention.

“That was quick.” he pushes his seat out and stands up. “But im glad.” he adjusted the watch on his wrist as he leaned against the front part of his desk. He crossed his feet and the two of you just stared at each other across the room, not knowing what to say or do next. You set your bag at his door assuming you'd be here a little while longer.

“Guess you can help me grade a few essays, get your practice in now.” he moves back over to the other side of his desk and pulls his chair out for you. You walk carefully over to it and take a seat, feeling the leather sink as you sit and the feeling of being in his chair is empowering, the feeling of him standing behind you makes you feel somethings stronger.

“I want you to pick up that pen and mark mistakes you see. Leave notes in the margin if you must but if you're not comfortable with that leave it to me.” he takes a deep breath in and you do as you are told. He still stands behind you as you read the essay. There were spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes here and there, poorly written but you only could assume that the poor kid who wrote it was doing it last minute at midnight. Probably didn’t even have time to edit. His breath hoever is so close to your neck as he hovers over you, you can almost taste the mint gum he chewed.

“He repeated a sentence twice.” you trip over your own words. You turn to look at him and he's staring hard at you. His eyes burn onto your shoulder as it's exposed.

“Then mark it.” he instructs and you blink a few times and he reaches over you to grab the pen but for some reason you grab his forearm to stop him. He’s a lot stronger than you think, alot. He snaps his eyes to you and stops chewing the gum he's been chewing on since the moment you got here.

His jaw clenches and your brain is screaming to let go of his arm, but you can't. You simply cannot let go of his arm and part of you thinks he doesn't want you to let go. He inches closer to your face, feeling the air of your breath as he moves closer to your lips.

“Let go.” he fixates on your lips, how dewy they are from the gloss you wore and how he wanted to press his against yours. You looked down at his arm and felt yourself burn in his chair.

��Mr. Holland-'' you start but his lips crash into yours, he moves his hand to your waist and you let go finally. They're soft, he knows what he's doing as he moves against your lips. He goes to move both hands to your waist and gets you on the desk. Pushing the messy papers to the side he places you on the desk now holding your face as he kisses you harder, like he's trying to take in every moment of this, trying to remember all of this.

He pushes your legs apart which gives him easy access up your skirt. His hands rub up and down your thighs as he gets closer and closer to your core. Already feeling the heat that radiates off.

You however, you work on his tie. Trying to pull it undone and he chuckles as he feels you struggling. how smart yet clueless you can be about some things

“Like this darling.” just like that he pulls it off and leaves it on the floor going back to kiss you again. Your hands starts on his hair, tugging the perfect curls loose from its gel hold. Although he finds your sweet spot, kissing your neck just below your ear. Hearing your soft moans make him tighten in his pants even more. He wants to rub himself but you are the focus, he wants to watch you cum for him, you melt in front of him. He wants to ruin you for any other boy that tries to do the same.

He hikes up your skirt, having it bunch around at your waist and seeing what you wore underneath only turns him on more. Baby Blue lace underwear that hugged your body just perfectly. His eyes wide in shock as you didn't wear any shorts under, no spandex, nothing. You walked around all day wearing the lacy blue thong and could have exposed yourself at any moment but you didn't. He thought about all the times you wore a skirt to his class, all the different color underwear you could have worn and all the times you've sat there so innocently.

But right now he didn't want to stare, he wanted to take you all in and make you feel good.

“Mr. H-” you start to address but he shakes his head.

“Just Tom, darling.” he kissed the corner of your mouth and proceeded to undo his pants to feel you around him. He starts to pull himself out when he realizes he doesn't have a condom or anything on him. It truly wasn't like him to be like this at work anyways.

“I’m on the pill,” you breathe out, so desperate, so needy. your heavy breath against Tom's shoulder made him shudder. You were begging to have him inside you, begging for his touch. “Just, just try and pull out.” You moved back to look at him and he nodded.

He slid in slowly, throwing his head back as your nails dug into his back. Resting your head against his shoulder as he gently kissed your head.

When the two of you were comfortable enough he started going faster, making you only need him more, trying not to be too loud because you didn’t know who was around. Trying to not think of how wrong it was to be fucking your professor. Was this why he wanted you as a TA? Why he addressed you by your name in class? Made eye contact with you in lessons? All this for now? Built up tension and being so touched starved for one another. Maybe it had been awhile since someone good came around, someone who knew what they were doing. He was good, better than good, he made you want more, you’d almost be upset if there wasn’t going to be more.

His sweet, soft, yet so dirty words helped push you to your own orgasm. Calling you ‘baby’ and reminding you how right you are as he thrusted into you. Rough but sweet. Maybe he would be more sweet in the future, but you wanted him to tear you apart.

“Tell me you're close.” He grunted into your ear, lifting up your face to kiss you. Your eyes hooded in euphoria and you can barely find the words to respond.

“I-I’m close.” You cry. “I’m so close!”

He felt so good you almost had tears running down your cheeks. You hold onto his waist, knowing you’re going to leave scratch marks and maybe a bit of the blue nail polish you wore that chipped away against his skin.

His hand went to your clit, helping you to your orgasm making you moan loud, as you loudly as you could into him. Making sure you were still somewhat quiet though, he shut you up with his lips. Muffled your moan with his hungry kisses.

He pulled out after you, jerking himself onto your thigh, you wanted to help but your body was too weak to respond, something so simple completely destroyed you. Maybe it was only fifteen minutes but he made it feel like an eternity.

Grabbing a tissue from his desk he cleaned you up. Helped you get down and get back dressed, Moving some of the baby hairs from the thin layer of sweat your forehead had.

He dressed had dressed himself back up too, placing back on his tie and running his fingers through his hair to calm some of the curls you tugged on too hard.

He notices you’re still in a daze and comes over to kiss you softly on the corner of your mouth. He was caring, really caring and you could see it. You could see a lot more of him now.

“You alright?” His breathing is still hard as he asks you. His eyes go to the water bottle on his desk and offers it to you. You take it and drink as if you’ve been in the hot summer sun for too long. He chuckles as he adjusts his tie back up seeing how thirsty you were.

“I’m go-great.” You tell him nodding your head. He raises his eyebrows and nods as well, moving papers back into their order reminding himself to clean the desk tomorrow.

“Good.” He gives a lazy smirk as he stops his fiddling and comes over to fix the sleeve on your shirt. “So you’ll be in class tomorrow, we’ll do a simple review and then start taking a look on the final exam-“ he was cut off by your kiss, so egear and soft he tries so hard not to smile into it.

“Easy there, Princess.” He pets your cheek before dropping his hand.

“Don’t talk to me about class when we just fucked on your desk.” You told him and he smirked and kissed again. But he knew it was getting late and a student being in a teachers office for too long would make people suspicious already. He wanted to keep what he had with you, only if you wanted that too.

“Didn’t want to make things awkward.” He told you and you scoffed.

“If I wanted things awkward I would’ve stopped you after our first kiss, not our first orgasm.” You told him and he grew a smirk.

“Oh so it was real.” He’s cocky and you hit his shoulder. He looks over at the clock and sees it’s nearly 8. “You should get going, it’s a little strange when a student is walking out of a teacher’s office late.” He warns you and you nod knowing it’s best. You could only imagine what would happen if you two got caught.

“Right.” You flatten out your skirt and walk over to the front to pick up your bag. He watches your every move, watches as you bend to pick up the bag, watches as you adjust the necklace on your neck. He watches every movement.

“Hey,” he stops you and you turn around. Part of you wants to stay and another part wants to go home and think about what the fuck just happened. “Don’t say anything about this. Not to anyone. Not to your roommates, best friends, no one. If we want to continue your position as a TA we’ll have to keep this quiet.” He told you with almost worry in his eyes and you bite down on your lip and nod.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” You asked and he tapped his fingers on the desk. Nodding as he once again went to try and fix the hair that was messy.

“Of course.” He winks and you heat up again. “If you would like to meet in my office earlier to discuss the position for real then my doors are open.” He reminds you and you almost laugh in his face. That’s what you were supposed to do now but clearly things had a different path.

“I will keep that in mind, Tom.” You use his real name instead of professor. He’s the one that’s blushing under your words.

You open the door very small. Not giving much room to leave but once you’re out you quickly shut the door. Hearing it click and lock automatically as you left. The black paint of professor Holland stared back at you as once again you could see the faint light inside and him sitting at his desk. You turn on your heels, seeing how no one else is in the hall you make your way out. Making your way out was the easy part. But you didn’t know if seeing him again would be all as easy as you hoped.

☆Tagging some people!!! Lemme know if you wanna be tagged!!:

@thollandss @spectacularlyspidey @angelic-holland @tomsrebeleyebrow @joshuaparkers @quitetommy @quackeroos @amsterdam-parker @stealthspideys @honeymoonparker @screamholland

#professor!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fan fic #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #imagine tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland blurb #tom holland

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yungidreamer · 4 years

Text

Arrival

Summary: Yungi and their girl arrive in New York City for spring break! After a visit to central park they decide to have an evening in at their B&B, planning for the rest of the trip and relaxing. When their girl turns in early, the boys expend some energy together in the shower

Wordcount: 6.6k

Content warnings: a little discussion of insecurites, orals sex, face fucking, anal sex, shower sex, and lots of love as always.

“New York, New York!” Mingi sang as they stepped off the subway at the stop closest to their bed and breakfast. Yunho gave a snicker and she laughed, hugging him around the hips. “What?”

“You’re just cute, love,” she told him with a bright smile. “I love that you do stuff like that.” Mingi grinned, turning a little pink. Yunho took one of Mingi’s hands and she hooked a finger into one of his belt loops as they headed out of the subway station and out onto the streets of the city. They paused as Yunho checked the directions on his phone, opening the map to get their bearing and gestured in the direction they needed to head. Dragging their bags the short block and a half, they found themselves in front of the iron and glass door that was their bed and breakfast. Mingi dropped Yunho’s hand and pulled the door open, holding it open for the other two to enter before following with his own bag into the small reception area.

With no one currently at the desk, they put their bags to the side near the wood paneled desk and poked their heads around the corners of the small lobby area with a couch, an armchair, a coffee table, and a little vanity that had been repurposed to hold a few welcoming decorative items. It was nice and cozy looking, a little like a living room at someones house. Mingi scootched up behind her, petting her head and touching gently along her neck. Yunho threw his arms around Mingi from behind, lifting him up off the floor and bouncing him as they all giggled.

“Uh, can I help you?” A voice came from behind the desk.

“Yeah we are here to check in, sorry,” she said coming over towards the desk. Pulling out a piece of paper and her ID.

“Are you here with your parents?” Asked the guy behind the desk as he took the papers.

“Nope just us,” Yunho replied, hanging on Mingi’s shoulder from behind him still.

“Alright, let’s see,” he said, typing into the computer behind the counter. “Hmmm, I think there might have been a mistake in your reservation.”

“Hmm?” She said, standing on her tiptoes to try and see over the counter as if it would let her see what they were looking at.

“Well it looks like you have a room with only one bed,” his mouth pressed into a line. “We do have another room with two beds or we can also send up a cot, but that would be a little extra.”

“One bed is fine, it’s a king sized right?” She followed up.

“Yes…” he blinked at them for a second before going on with the check-in for them. “Well, here is your key. You guys are up on the third floor, room 304 towards the end of the hall.”

“Thank you,” she smiled as she took the key from him and turned to grab the handle of her bag. “Come on loves, let’s go see the room.” Yunho and Mingi followed her to the stairwell, and they walked together up the couple of flights to the third floor. They found their room at the end of the hallway to the right. She slid the plastic key into the reader and swung the door open and stepped inside. The room was a lovely space filled with a pleasing combination of bright blue and crisp white. The room wasn’t large and the space was mostly filled with the bed, but given the price and the location, it was still a very good deal. They had a window that looked out on the small side street with the entrance to the B&B, a bright tiled bathroom, an armchair, and a little desk under the TV mounted to the wall. The bed was actually a little smaller than theirs back home, but it would be fine for the days they were here over break.

Not wanting to waste time, they put their suitcases in the corner, put the key in Yunho’s wallet, and headed back downstairs. They walked out the front door and turned left to make their way down the three and a half blocks to the edge of the park. Checking Yunho’s map again, they decided to head down a block to a small entrance into the massive park. They decided to start with the area behind the Metropolitan Museum, in part because there was a chance the cherry trees might be blooming already since spring had been warm and the place called Cherry Hill seemed like a good destination for that.

They set off along the maze of paths further into the park. At first they followed the path along the back of the museum, seeing the massive extended structures that seemed to stretch so far along the edge of the park.

“Do you think we’ll be able to see everything in there in a day when we go?” Mingi asked as they walked along the modern feeling structure of glass and steel that reached into the park.

“Maybe not but I bet we can see a lot,” she commented with a smile, catching his attention by taking his hand again. He looked back at her and gave her a big smile. Yunho took her other hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Did you see that over there?” He asked, gesturing at something that seemed to be pointing up into the sky behind the line of trees across the street that was running alongside the path they were on.

“What is it?” Mingi asked, squinting at it as they continued walking.

“It looks like an obelisk,” she stated. “Want to go see what it is?” Both of the boys nodded and they started off, first crossing the road and path and sneaking onto the broad grassy lawn. The old trees there were just starting to put out their leaves making it surprisingly easy to see further into the park as they walked. The obelisk was a large object of brown stone that seemed to be just a little out of place, rising out of nowhere in the middle of a park in the city. When they got close, they could see that it seemed to actually be an ancient object that had been installed in the park, likely related to the museum nearby.

“That’s neat,” she declared, circling the base and looking up at the hieroglyphic carvings. “I really wonder what it says.”

“Maybe something like ‘Pharaoh Ramses was here, he was cool and liked pointy things,’” Yunho jokingly suggested.

“You know,” she admitted with a grin. “There is every chance you really aren’t that far off.”

After a couple more minutes they headed down off the area that held the obelisk onto another path that circled around the broad open lawn at the center of that portion of the park, slowly making their way towards a place called the Turtle Pond. They passed a cool faux medieval bridge and a statue to some Polish king. Across from the statue was a natural looking rock outcrop that provided an amazing view over the water with some of the very tallest buildings at the south side of the park poking up to remind you that you were in one of the biggest cities in the world.

“I wonder if anyone ever swims in that,” Mingi wondered, dipping the toe of his shoe into the water where it was lapping at the edge of the rock.

“Given the color of the water,” she said, giving a little bit of a frown. “I am hoping not. I would bet there are way nicer places to swim or get wet even in the park.”

“Yeah probably,” he nodded. “The view just kind of makes it a tempting place, I think.”

“You like the idea of swimming with a view?” Yunho chuckled.

“Isn’t everything more fun with a nice setting?” Mingi shrugged.

“Yes, yes it is,” she agreed. “But I’d prefer my swimming water to have a little less algae in it.”

“Me, too,” Mingi admitted.

“Okay, so where are we going from here,” She asked, coming up beside Yunho as he pulled out his phone at her question. They set a vague path towards through the forestry ramble and along the inner side of The Lake. The sheer scale of the park was enough to make you feel small. It was odd how, when you stepped out of the forest and could suddenly see the sky scrapers again it suddenly made the park seem both huge and closed in at the same time.

As they exited the ramble, they found themselves on a beautiful gently curving bridge that crossed over a thin stretch between the two sides of the lake. She paused midway, leaning on the decorative cement railing to take in the view of the park and the city. Along the side of the park to the west skyscrapers added texture to the skyline, so contrastingly symmetrical and industrial. A testament to industry and innovation.

In the park, the sparse branches of the trees reached towards the sky, yet still dwarfed by the buildings unless you were under them. In the park on the other side of the lake, fruit trees were blooming in pink and white, heralding the beginning of spring. People passed, the water sparkled, and a light breeze stirred the blooms and the branches.

“Want to get a picture here?” Yunho asked when she paused there, looking out at the view.

“Sure,” she nodded. “Isn’t it such a gorgeous place? The trees and the lake and everything… just how it all makes you feel so small.”

“It’s beautiful,” Yunho agreed. “But I never feel small when I’m with you.”

“Is… is that a joke about my height?” She laughed, narrowing her eyes at him.

“No, no,” he burst into laughter, realizing that it did sound like that when he thought about it. “I meant you both make me feel important.”

“Okay, that was sweet,” she chuckled, guiding his face down for a kiss. “Mingi babe, come here, let’s get a picture here together.” Mingi happily bound over, joining them where they leaned against the concrete rail of the bridge. The boys leaned down to her level so they would all fit in the frame and smiled into the camera as she hit the button.

“One more,” Yunho urged as she started to put the camera away. She nodded and brought the camera back up for another picture. Both boys turned their faces, pressing a kiss to her cheeks from either side. A grin spread over her face as she took another couple of pictures of the three of them. This would be a moment she would want to remember for a very long time.

Before the boys could stop her, she dashed off towards Cherry Hill, going to look at the cherry blossoms fluttering in the breeze. They chased after her, laughing as they quickly caught up with her on the paved path that curved around the slight hill where many of the pink crowned trees were dotted. At a break in the benches that lined the path she guided them off the path and onto the grass to get closer to the trees.

“Isn’t it just a little amazing that they bloom even before the leaves come out?” Mingi noted as he looked at the pink blossoms against the blue of the sky. Petals fluttered off the tree and onto the grass around them, dancing like snowflakes in the air as they fell.

“They are so beautiful,” Yunho agreed. “Maybe someday we can have a cherry tree at our house.”

“Someday, when we have a house that is ours,” she nodded. “The flowers are awesome, but can you imagine if we actually got edible cherries too. I could make pies.”

“My mom used to can peaches from my grandparent’s yard back when I was a kid,” Yunho recalled. “Maybe she can teach us how to do that, then we can save them.”

“I think it’s going to be awhile before we can do that,” she said with a sigh.

“Doesn’t hurt to plan ahead,” Mingi grinned.

“Of course not,” she admitted. “It’s just…”

“What?” Yunho asked, when her pause seemed to draw out.

“Sometimes it feels so far away it doesn’t feel real,” she shrugged, deliberately looking at the trees around them.

“You mean the future?” Mingi questioned, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “A future where we have our house and our trees. Sometimes I don’t really want to think about it since it doesn’t really feel like it’s going to be real. What we have now, I’m just happy to have what we do at least.”

“When we graduate,” Yunho declared with complete confidence. “We’ll buy a house together, get a dog, just, you know, make a real home for ourselves.”

“How are we going to explain that to our parents?” She half laughed, half sighed.

“Who says we have to explain anything at that point?” Mingi declared, longing for the day when he could really not care about what his father thought.

“I don’t know,” she allowed. “I guess I sort of hope someday mom and dad will understand, you know. Come over for holidays and birthdays. I want them to be happy for me.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever have that,” Mingi said ruefully. “But I’d be so happy if you got that. Your parents have always been amazing to me even if your dad can be a little prickly sometimes. They love you, I think maybe, if they see you… or I mean us happy, I think they will come around.”

“It’s sort of funny,” Yunho sighed, putting his hand over Mingi’s where it was resting on her shoulder. “I think my mom will be relieved that we are all together. She is always so worried about me being left out; being left alone. When we tell her we are all together, I actually think it will make her happy.”

“Well, on the upside,” she said, giving Mingi a bright smile. “When we tell your dad, we will never have to see him again.”

“That is a bonus,” Mingi readily agreed. “Can… can we call him now?”

“Let’s get a couple more years of tuition out of him,” Yunho suggested.

They got back to the B&B around sunset tired and hungry from their wandering in the park. On their way home they had picked up some Thai food and donuts to eat so they would be able to stay in and relax for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow would be a full day of touristing, so they decided a little relaxation and maybe even an early night, would be ideal.

Bags of food in hand, they slipped back upstairs to their room. She was already yawning by the time they were back in their room, tired from running around and keeping up with the boys as they toured the park. They had seen quite a few cherry trees, gotten selfies in some of the more iconic spots in the park, like Belvedere Castle and Strawberry Fields. Although they had grabbed a couple of sandwiches from a convenience store at some point, they were starving by the time they actually got back. Passing around the containers of food, they each took their fill while they planned what exactly they were going to do the next day.

“Can we do the big museum tomorrow,” Mingi asked, taking a bite of a maple bacon donut. “I want to see what’s in there, and it’s pretty close.”

“Yeah of course,” she nodded, opening her mouth to accept a bite Yunho was offering her. “We can see what we can get in during a visit tomorrow. Was there something specific you wanted to see there?”

“I don’t know,” Mingi shrugged. “I just like history and it looks like it could be fun.”

“We’ll do that first then,” she nodded. “I’d kind of like to maybe see the Natural History Museum, too.”

“What about the botanical gardens?” Yunho suggested.

“Sure we can do that the day after,” she agreed. “I want to save Thursday for shopping. I wanted to get a dress and maybe some makeup for our anniversary dinner on Friday. Do you boys want to get anything done?”

“I already have a suit but I was thinking I might like a change of hair color if you guys were okay with it.” Yunho mentioned, trying to read their faces.

“You know I’d love any look you pick,” she assured him, patting his knee.

“Yeah, of course, what were you thinking of?” Mingi asked with an excited grin.

“What about something wild,” Yunho tested. “Like a green or blue?”

“Ooooo,” Mingi responded, giving him finger guns. “I like it.”

“Do you mind if I take my shower now?” She asked, stifling another yawn. “We don’t have to go to bed quite yet but I am tired.”

“That’s okay,” Yunho nodded. “Go ahead. It’s not like we are going to go out again anyway. Take your shower, love.”

“Thanks, I won’t be long, “ she promised, kissing each of them on the cheek as she got up. They watched her head into the bathroom, relaxing against the headboard as they finished up the last of the food.

“Do you think she’ll let us pay for her dress and stuff for the dinner?” Mingi asked.

“Mmmmm, probably not willingly, but maybe we can sort of do it sneakily,” Yunho suggested.

“I’m listening,” Mingi turned his head to look at the other boy with a grin.

“It’s pretty simple,” Yunho shrugged. “When she has picked it all out, we divide and conquer. So you take the stuff and I’ll distract her by taking her to look at something else while you slip off and pay.”

“Deal,” Mingi stuck out his hand and sealed the deal with a firm shake of their hands. They settled on watching an episode of something while they waited for her to come back out. Before too long she came out damp and wrapped in a fluffy towel. She fished out an old AC/DC t-shirt that sort of belonged to Yunho but had largely been adopted by her as a night shirt, slipping it on before she tiredly flopped onto the foot of the bed.

“Tired, baby?” Mingi asked, leaning forward and patting her head.

“‘m fine,” she said as she yawned. “Maybe a little.”

“Honey, just lie down,” Yunho looked at her and laughed, pulling her higher up into the bed. “After this episode we’ll go shower and we can just go to sleep.”

“You don’ hafta,” she muttered, cuddling down into the space between them. “I don’t want to rain on the fun we should be having.”

“It’s not a bad idea to sleep a little early today,” Yunho gave her forehead a quick kiss. “Then we can get an early start tomorrow on the actual fun we have planned.”

“Sorry I’m being no fun today,” she huffed.

“Babe, don’t be silly,” Mingi hugged her from behind, nuzzling into her damp hair. “I’m a little tired too, it would be smart to sleep early. Just get under the covers and close your eyes.”

“Fiiiiiiine,” she grumbled but let Mingi tuck her in under the blankets. As she settled down in the pile of pillows at the top of the bed Yunho motioned at Mingi that they should go ahead and go into the shower. Mingi nodded and slid off the bed to follow him into the bathroom. They stripped off their clothes near the suitcases, piling all their dirty clothes together in a heap, then headed into the bright tiled bathroom. Yunho closed the door behind them and pressed Mingi back against it, leaning in for a playful kiss. Mingi grinned against the other boy's lips as his arms snaked around his neck.

“Not feeling tired yet, huh?” Mingi teased in a quiet voice, trying to keep it from carrying into the other room.

“I kinda want you,” Yunho chuckled, bringing his hands to Mingi’s narrow hips.

“Wait, one sec,” Mingi pulled away and cracked the door open, he quietly snuck back to their bags and pulled out the bottle of lube he had packed, casting a look back to the bed where she seemed to be nearly asleep already. The sight made him smile as he quietly slipped back into the bathroom.

“Let’s see if I can’t tire you out a little.” Mingi teased, putting the bottle on the counter as he backed Yunho against it.

“Yes please,” Yunho grinned. Mingi’s lips found the soft Cupid’s bow curve of Yunho’s, enjoying the sweet softness of them pressed against his own. His tongue darted out, tasting the pink softness of Yunho’s lower lip, making him moan slightly.

“I wanted to kiss you all day,” Mingi admitted, pressing his forehead against him.

“Why didn’t you,” Yunho asked, putting his hands on the other boy’s biceps.

“I don’t know,” Mingi shrugged, shaking his head slightly. “What if someone says something? What if someone wants to start something?”

“They won’t,” Yunho soothed, running his hands up and down Mingi’s arms. “And what do I care if they did. I’m proud that I love you. I want everyone to know that you’re my boy.”

“Yeah?” Mingi gave a chuckle.

“My handsome,” Yunho kissed his cheekbone. “Sweet,” he kissed the little mole lower down near his jaw line. “Funny,” he moved to the side of his neck. “Wonderful,” his lips brushed his collarbone. “Sexy,” he smiled, looking up to meet Mingi’s eyes as he reached between them to wrap his fingers around his growing erection. “Boyfriend.”

“You wouldn’t mind if I kissed you sometimes when we were out?” Mingi questioned, feeling a blush rise on his chest and face. “You wouldn’t pull away?”

“Any time that I would be okay with getting a kiss from our girl, I would be just as happy to get a kiss from you,” Yunho promised. “I’m so happy to have you, that you love me, too.” Yunho pushed him slightly further into the bathroom and went to his knees in front of him. “I haven’t kissed you because I’m afraid, but not of what others think.” Yunho told him as he kissed the tip of his erection. “I’m afraid you’ll pull away and I don’t want to hurt you.” He took the head in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

“Ahhh,” Mingi groaned, gripping the towel rack with one hand and the edge of the counter with the other. “I want to say I wouldn’t but… sometimes I get scared of what people will think or how they will react.”

“I know,” Yunho nodded, working his hand up and down the length in his hand. “I want to kiss you and I want you to like it. I want it to be something you hope for, not something you fear happening. I love you too much for that.”

“I’m sorry,” Mingi said guiltily.

“It’s okay,” Yunho licked up his length. “Someday you’ll get there, and I’ll wait for you and for that day.” Taking Mingi into his mouth, he threw himself into driving him to distraction. Mingi looked down, taking in the view of Yunho bobbing as he took as much of his length in his mouth. He loved watching himself disappear in Yunho’s lips and feeling the wet cavern of his mouth move over him.

Yunho loved tasting Mingi. He loved the flavor of his skin and how he reacted to his touch. Usually it was the three of them, and he loved every moment they had together. But sometimes he thought that it made Mingi feel like he was less. That perhaps he wasn’t loved for himself, he was a secondary piece, a less important part of a whole. At the very least, less secure in how important he was and how much he was loved for himself.

Yunho licked him like he was candy, holding onto Mingi’s hips to hold them both steady. Mingi felt weak as he watched Yunho’s mouth move over him eagerly. Part of him wanted to tell him he didn’t have to do this, but he loved this feeling and seeing Yunho on him so he bit his tongue. The way his hands held his hips and his eyes looked up at him, a sparkling glow in his deep brown eyes, made his stomach tight. Catching him looking, Yunho made a show of taking as much of Mingi as he could into his mouth until he brushed the back of his throat and made his eyes water slightly.

“You—you don’t have to,” Mingi finally panted.

“But I want to,” Yunho replied, licking the saliva that was moistening his lower lip. “Do you want to come in my mouth or do you want to take me in the shower?”

“Both,” Mingi joked. “Either, as long as it’s inside you.”

“As you wish,” Yunho let one hand go to stroke himself as he took Mingi in his mouth again.

“Wait,” Mingi stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Yunho sat back on his heels and let his hands drop from the other boy with a twinge of disappointment in his eyes. “No no, I just,” he cleared his throat as a pink blush rose on his cheeks. “Can I taste you too?”

“Do you really want to?” Yunho asked, coming to his feet to look Mingi in the face.

“I don’t have to,” Mingi shrugged, averting his eyes.

“That isn’t what I asked,” Yunho moved into his vision. “Do you want to suck my dick?”

Mingi’s eyes snapped to Yunho’s at the crude language. “Yeah,” he replied a little defiantly.

“Then do it,” Yunho prompted, pressing lightly on Mingi’s shoulders to bring him to his knees.

“Sit for me?” Mingi guided Yunho back to sit on the lid of the closed toilet. Yunho acquiesced, taking a seat on it and letting Mingi kneel down in front of him. Reaching out, Yunho ran his fingers through Mingi’s hair as he drew closer. Mingi put his hands on the thick thighs of the other boy, adjusting his position on the floor, then leaned in to lick a line up the underside of Yunho’s erection. Yunho let out a tight sigh at the feel. Mingi took the tip in his mouth sucking it and swirling his tongue around it like a lollipop.

“Ahhh, Mingi, you’re such a tease,” Yunho praised, running his fingers through his hair. Mingi hummed around him, flattening his tongue as he slid more of him into his mouth. Yunho quivered, his hand fisting lightly in the other boy’s hair as he fought the urge to guide him further down.

“Show me what you like,” Mingi said when he pulled off, putting both of Yunho’s hands on his head as he moved his mouth back on him. With a smile, Yunho gently used his hands to move the other boy along his length until he felt his tip touch the back of his throat and held him there for a few seconds before pulling him back up.

“Is that okay,” Yunho asked, keeping his grip but making it light enough to allow Mingi to pull away if he wanted. Mingi gave a light shake to his head without taking his mouth off Yunho’s length. Guiding his head down again, Yunho watched as Mingi closed his eyes, giving the other boy almost complete control of him. With slow deliberate moves Yunho moved Mingi’s mouth up and down his length as he kept his jaw slack. At the end of each slow stroke Yunho felt himself brush the softness of the back of Mingi’s throat before he pulled the other boy back.

“Love, you feel like fucking heaven,” Yunho moaned. “If we keep going much longer I’m going to come.”

“Come in my mouth, please,” Mingi said, having pulled back enough to speak as he wiped a little bit of moisture that had spilled onto his chin.

“Okay,” Yunho nodded, running his thumbs over Mingi’s cheeks as he pulled him back.

“And, please be a little more rough,” Mingi’s eyes flicked up to Yunho’s then dropped nervously.

Yunho nodded again, “Just tap out if you need to, okay?” Yunho guided Mingi’s mouth down onto him again pulling him down faster and bumping the back of his throat harder. Mingi gagged slightly, his little snaggle-tooth scraping along Yunho’s length for a second before he caught himself.

“You okay?” Yunho gritted out, enjoying the sensations. Mingi nodded, keeping his eyes closed and concentrating on keeping his jaw slack. Trusting the other boy, Yunho pulled his mouth up and down the length of him faster and going deeper. The soft, slick feel of Mingi’s mouth around him felt fantastic and the way he just trusted him and let him control the movement made it feel different. Yunho could feel his orgasm building and increased the speed at which he moved.

“Fuck, Mingi, you feel so good,” Yunho groaned. “Can you take more of me?” Mingi didn’t answer, instead he pushed himself down his length, past the point where he hit the back of his throat taking more of him until he gagged and his eyes watered. Yunho’s breath caught and he wiped away the tears from the corners of Mingi’s eyes. Following Mingi’s guide, Yunho kept him moving, hitting that depth over and over again as his pleasure built.

A moment later his orgasm burst over him and he held Mingi’s head down against him as he felt himself twitch in his throat. He felt Mingi swallow around him, the muscles in his throat working on him. Letting go of his head, Yunho let Mingi pull away. Mingi drew in a deep breath, having been holding his breath as Yunho invaded his throat. He wiped his chin and looked up at a dazed and pleased Yunho still sitting before him, leg spread wide and his head thrown back.

“Mingi, I love you,” Yunho panted, leaning forward to pull him into a kiss. “God you are so good to me.”

“Was that good?” Mingi asked, a happy sparkle in his eyes.

“So good,” Yunho praised. “You made me feel so good. Now how about you fuck me senseless in the shower. What do you think?”

“You still want to?” Mingi smiled up at him.

“Please,” Yunho urged, standing up and pulling Mingi towards the shower, palming the lube as he moved. Mingi followed him, stepping in as Yunho started the water running. Mingi pushed them both under the stream of hot water, tucking his head against Yunho’s shoulder. Yunho wrapped his arms around the other boy, holding him close.

“I love you, too,” Mingi said softly. They stood in the water, letting it flow over then until their skin was pink and warm from the heat. Yunho reached for the bar of soap the hotel had provided, lathering it in his hands before reaching out to Mingi to start washing him. Mingi helped him, guiding his hands as they washed along his chest and abdomen and lower. Yunho had to kneel to reach his legs, taking the chance to place a soapy kiss to Mingi’s hip.

Having gotten all of Mingi clean, they switched places and Mingi returned the favor, giving the boy he loved a sunny grin as he washed him. He loved touching and looking at Yunho’s lean body. It was so perfectly proportioned, soft and hard in all the right places. He pushed the slightly taller boy back under the water to rinse him before reaching for the shampoo and drizzling a little into his palm. He ran his fingers through the other boys hair until it was satisfactorily sudsy and clean. Mingi helped him lean his head back under the water and rinse it clean before Yunho did the same for him.

“You ready?” Mingi asked, running his hands over Yunho’s droplet covered body. Yunho nodded, giving him a quick kiss before he turned around, giving Mingi his back. Mingi reached for the bottle of lube where it had been left on the little shower shelf. Clicking open the top as the water from the shower beat lightly against his back, he dribbled a liberal amount of it into his hand. He slid it over himself and along the damp crevice of Yunho’s ass. He couldn’t help but admire the lovely bubbly shape of it, rinsing his hand slightly before reaching out to give the muscles a light squeeze.

Yunho gave a low chuckle, sticking his ass out invitingly to the other boy. Mingi kissed the back of his neck and down over his shoulder blades. He ran the tip of his length between Yunho’s cheeks, testing the resistance of his body. Finding it still too tight, Mingi slipped a hand between them making slow circles around Yunho’s tight ring of muscles.

“Let me in, love,” Mingi said gently as he slid a finger inside. “I want to make love to you.”

“Yes please, I want you,” Yunho whined. Mingi worked him wider for another moment before bringing his erection back, slipping the tip of his head inside. He added more lube again, having lost some to the dribbles of water that had come over his hands and the front of his body from the shower. With gentle thrusts and withdrawals, he slipped himself inside up to the hilt.

“You feel so good,” Mingi groaned, his hands coming around to hold Yunho around the chest and splaying over his lower stomach. He pressed his lips to his shoulder as he pulled out and slid back in. They both sighed at the sensation.

“Is it good for you,” Mingi asked, looking at what he could see of Yunho’s face as he leaned against the tile wall, pressing his forehead against it. Yunho nodded, only giving a breathy moan in response besides that. “Can you come again tonight?” Mingi asked, his lower hand wandering down to touch Yunho’s half hard length.

“Dunno, but we can try,” Yunho turned his face to the side and offered the other boy a smile.

“If it’s too much just say, okay?” Mingi urged as he fondled the slightly squishy length. Yunho nodded, relaxing with one cheek pressed against the cool tile. Yunho shivered slightly at the feeling of over stimulation. He liked it but it skated on the edge of discomfort. Mingi kept touching him, keeping his movements light and gentle as he touched him and keeping the pace the same as his thrusts. Mingi buried his face in Yunho’s shoulder as he moved, taking in the scent of his clean skin and listening to his panting breaths as he brushed over his prostate from the inside.

“Faster,” Yunho breathed, eyes closed and features slack with pleasure. Mingi obliged both thrusting faster and holding him tighter. Yunho’s dick was almost hard in Mingi’s hand but still slightly soft. He could feel the pulse of blood below the skin as he touched it. He seemed to be getting close and Mingi concentrated his touch on the head, only occasionally sliding his hand down the full length.

“Can you come for me?” Mingi breathed against the shell of his ear. “Come for me one more time.” Yunho whimpered, his face scrunching as he came closer to his second orgasm. “That’s it. You look so good when you come. Let me see it.” Yunho panted, his jaw falling slack as the sensations built against whatever dam he had inside, beating against it until it broke. His orgasm shuttered through him and he stiffened in Mingi’s arms. Mingi whispered praises to him as he felt the slight dribble of cum bubble out onto his hand as he gently held him in his hand. It wasn’t much since he had already come a half an hour before, but Mingi gloried in the feel. He thrust into him, looking to follow soon after. Yunho groaned, interlacing his fingers with Mingi’s where he still held him in his hand.

“Harder,” Yunho demanded. “Fuck me, Mingi.” Mingi moved his hands to Yunho’s hips, thrusting into him to the hilt and withdrawing nearly all the way. Yunho angled his hips to help him move, propping himself up against the wall with his forearms. Mingi could feel his orgasm there, so close. With just a few more thrusts he came, his length deep inside Yunho as he threw his head back and his hands grabbed Yunho’s hips harshly.

“So good,” Mingi groaned. “You make me feel so good.” Yunho pushed away from the wall, bringing them both back under the water. Water dribbled down over their faces as Mingi finally pulled himself out, making both of them moan. Mingi smiled against the back of Yunho’s neck as his hand went between them to use the water to rinse both of them clean again. His hand reached for the soap, taking a little on his hand, and washed them both gently.

“Ready to get out and join our girl in bed?” Mingi asked with a smile.

“Yeah,” Yunho agreed with a giggle. “I think I’m gonna sleep really well now. Thanks for helping wear me out. Are you ready for bed?”

“Mm-hmm,” Mingi nodded, turning off the water behind him as he drew Yunho into a kiss. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that you love me.”

“I’ll try to remember to tell you more,” Yunho held Mingi’s hand against his cheek. “I’ll try to never let you forget how much I love you. Just you, for who you are.”

“Me too,” Mingi grinned shyly. “I’m sorry I’m such an idiot sometimes.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Yunho pushed his shoulder playfully. “You just need to hear it more and sometimes I forget that. Just remember, I’m always happy to get a kiss from you or hug you or hold your hand. I know you don’t always want to, and I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for the day when you reach for me.”

“Thank you,” Mingi pulled him into a hug as they stood in the tub together, dripping in the cooling air of the bathroom. When he pulled away, Yunho grabbed a towel off the rack and rubbed himself mostly dry before stepping out of the shower and rubbing Mingi down with the same towel. They both ran the towel over their heads, drying their hair. Yunho wiped a clear area in the mirror and looked at both their faces together in the reflection.

“What would you think of me with black black hair?” Yunho asked, still looking at both of them. “Like a sort of goth look? And…” he paused, his cheeks going a little pink. “Would you be embarrassed if I tried a little make up?”

“Sounds kind of hot to me,” Mingi waggled his eyebrows at him in the mirror. “Maybe we could all share makeup. Our girl could probably help us learn to do some.”

“She’d like it too, wouldn’t she?” Yunho said with just a hint of doubt in his voice.

“I’m sure she would,” Mingi shrugged. “But we can talk to her about it in the morning. Ready to sleep?”

“Yeah,” Yunho gave Mingi a quick kiss on his cheek. “I think I’m just gonna sleep like this. Did you want to put on a shirt or anything?”

“Nah, let’s just hop into bed,” Mingi agreed, grabbing Yunho around the waist and turning them both towards the door and waddling out. They both snickered quietly as they slipped into the bed from either side, cuddling up against their girl. She huffed and half opened her eyes as they joined her and they both shushed her, urging her to relax and close her eyes. They all entwined their limbs in the dim room, only lit by the vast city outside their window.

Masterlist

#ateez smut #song mingi #jeong yunho #mingi smut #yunho smut #ateez imagines #kpop smut #kpop imagines #mingi x reader #yunho x reader #yunho #mingi #romance #poly smut #polyamory

156 notes · View notes

hope-remnant · 3 years

Text

The Practice Run Killing Game

Content Warnings: guns, violence, murder, manipulation, ableism, blood, weapons, bullying mention, and Dangan Ronpa, which is probably it’s own warning. This is literally 85% murder. 6.5K words.

My talentswap AU now has its own fanfic! for a full list of my talentswapped characters click [here]

Hifumi never thought school life could be so great. He grinned to himself in his dorm, pushing off the floor with socked feet to spin his desk chair back and forth. The pale blue light of his computer’s screen reflected on his glasses, which he pushed up with one finger and a smirk before typing out a last message to his friend’s stream chat.

JusticeHammer: I’ll be back in a few hours!! Have fun Hina!! <3

In his headphones the stream audio played, ambient underwater sounds from the game itself and the excited voice of his friend, the Ultimate Gamer.

“Bye Justice! You other mods better be on your best behavior now that the boss man is gone, okay?” Hina grinned up at the webcam from her side of the screen, waving with one tanned hand before returning to her game, talking about the strange atmosphere of an alien world.

The chat scrolled by as well, people from all over the world typing out goodbyes to him. Thousands of strangers, but dozens of friends as well, fellow moderators who helped wrangle the random people into order, who would play video games with Hifumi, who would message him and call him.

It was a far cry from where Hifumi had been in middle school, and he couldn’t help but grin again, shaking out his hands as if to shake out an excitement that clung to his bones, that stayed in his heart when he remembered he had friends.

His phone dinged with a soft chime, and he couldn’t help the quiet huff of amusement as he flipped open his phone and typed quickly.

Sakura: Where are you going Hifumi? Do you need assistance?

Hifumi: school council meeting! a weird late night one, no emergencies, dont worry sakura!

Hifumi: see you tomorrow, love you!!!!! :)

Hifumi stashed the phone in the pocket of his blazer- he was unsure what to wear to this sudden late night meeting, when before they had all been just after classes let out. He decided to play it safe and wear his school uniform.

Standing up from his chair, he made sure to plug in his laptop, the stream still running on it, and turned to leave his room. He had seen the interior of the main course’s dorms, they were triple the size, with their own ensuite and everything.

His own dorm was small, the wall space barely enough to fit his multitude of posters. There was a complimentary cork board as well, full of fanart people had made of his little sona, a kirby with a hammer and glasses, which he printed out and posted up on his wall as big as he could get them.

He pulled once on the lapels of his blazer, making the fabric settle properly on his shoulders and snatched his binder of notes he used in student council meetings. He made sure to lock his dorm on the way out, still smiling softly to himself. He toyed with the small ring of keys in his hand, dorm room key swinging as well as a number of soft cute keychains that Hina or Sakura sent him in their years as online friends.

He entered the cold night air, pocketing his keys and rubbing his hands together. Winter had clung harder than he had ever seen it, or Spring was simply apathetic even in April, biding its time. In the dusky light he could see the timid, barely blooming sakura trees that dotted the expansive main campus of Hope’s Peak Academy as he approached. There was no security on duty, the gates locked at the late hour.

Headmaster Kirigiri had given him a pass once he sent an anxious email talking about how the head of security, Sakakura, had been harassing him whenever he tried to go on campus. Even though reserve course students were barred from entering the main campus, Hifumi had privileges as the liaison between the reserve and main courses, and as a member of the student council.

Hina and Sakura had theorized it was because Sakakura was the Ex-Ultimate Student Council Leader, and was now one of the club’s supporting staff members, even if he had only worked at the school for a few years. The man was resentful of having a reserve course student on the council, a first in the school’s history, even though the reserve course was a relatively recent development.

Hifumi was used to people disliking him for seemingly no reason, it was only a problem that he took to the headmaster when it made him late to council meetings.

He glanced at his phone as he passed through the side gate intended for just security. He would likely be a minute or two late, but it wouldn’t make him stand out any more than usual. In his black and white suit he was a dark stain in the middle of any crowd of bright ultimates, who were able to wear anything pertaining to their talent and flaunt the rules.

Sakura wearing scrubs some days, Hina wearing garish merchandise for a game and smirking as the Ultimate Hall Monitor from class 77B could do nothing about it. They had told Hifumi about some of their classmates testing the rules, Enoshima in a sporty tank top, the Ultimate Team Manager getting away with it even in December. Fukawa, who didn’t even notice the rules apparently, and wore oil stained jumpsuits to class, no one able to deter the Ultimate Engineer and Ultimate Mechanic.

Yet here he was, in an ill-tailored suit. When he had been accepted into the reserve program and sent a uniform, his older sister had insisted he try it on, and cooed over him looking all grown up, as if she weren’t just a year older than him. She utilized some of her cosplay skills to try and modify the suit to fit him- they seemed to be made for exclusively skinny kids, then just sized up without concerns for body shape. Unfortunately Fujiko typically worked with skirts and dresses, which were more forgiving of hands more used to drawing and the bad eyesight all Yamadas seemed to have.

Hifumi had to stop for a moment, the breeze rustling past as he stared up at the few stars that began to twinkle in the night sky, faded and choked by light pollution, blurry even with his glasses. Some were simply blocked by the giant building before him, gleaming glass reflecting the lights of the city’s nightlife, aside from one classroom on the second floor, lit up bright white with silhouettes moving across the room.

He held the binder full of notes to his chest and walked into Hope’s Peak Academy, unaware that someone in the school’s entrance hall was hiding in the shadows, watching with eyes of deep scarlet that reflected light like a cat’s would in the low light.

Hifumi hurried up the stairs and down the hallway to the classroom they held meetings in. He saw Kamii and Kurosaki, two ultimates on the council who were dating, walk into the meeting room, Kamii practically clinging to her boyfriend. It was unsettling to see as he approached, considering Kamii thought PDA was impolite during meetings, and usually sat with someone between her and Kurosaki to avoid it. Maybe she was upset by something, but Hifumi wasn’t about to ask her, considering he was acquaintances at best with the council.

He followed them into the room, the last to arrive. The fluorescent lights were glaring and bright as night settled fully outside of their meeting. Everyone was seated aside from their Ultimate Student Council President, Umesawa, who stood at the podium in front of the blackboard, knuckles white as her blunt nails dug into the wood, her white armband standing out against the bright yellow of her hoodie.

After Hifumi sat down, leaving his notes on the desk, he noticed just how unhappy everyone seemed. Some were fidgeting, others talking but not saying much at all, their tone hurried and frightened, and others sat there and stared at the polished wood of their desk as if the world was ending around them.

“Now that we’re all here- you have some explaining to do Umesawa.” Ikuta, a girl with a famously short temper among the upperclassmen ultimates, had her hands on her desk as she stood slightly, her red hair swaying and catching the eyes of anyone who hadn’t been startled by her shout.

“Yeah, Aiko, your emails were really panicked.” Kashiki smiled softly at her friend, but she seemed to be trembling.

Umesawa tugged on one of the bright yellow ears sitting atop the hood of her sweatshirt, pulling down the hood and raising her head to look up at the council. Her eyes seemed to draw people in, one blue and one green, both full of an earnestness that made her a good Ultimate School Council President. Now, though, they were rimmed with red, and usually perfect wavy bob was a bird’s nest, brown strands out of place in any way they could be.

“I called you all here because it was best to be as discreet as possible.” Umesawa said.

Ichino snorted, not even bothering to hide his disrespect, too busy carding his hand through his already messy red hair. “Discreet. Yeah.”

Just when Hifumi was going to ask them all to explain, because these ultimates always acted as if everyone just knows what’s going on instead of learning things like normal people- the door creaked open and someone Hifumi had never seen before stepped inside.

The first thing Hifumi noticed were the gloves. One a perfect, unstained white, carrying a large duffle bag. The other a black that blended into her sleeve. The rest of her outfit was just as puzzling, a bright red tie and a white button up, but with a black cropped leather jacket over it. A black miniskirt and red knee high boots as well completed the outfit. But even then, it was almost at odds with pale violet eyes and long lavender hair, only a small portion of that hair in a braid that she toyed with in her black gloved hand.

“Good evening class.” She said, her voice even and her eyes narrowed.

Umesawa backed away from the podium, staring at the girl. “Who are y-?”

The girl waved off the question, her black gloved hand slashing through the air, making the council president back away further. “Goodness, and they say you’re one of the brightest in the school?” She takes a step closer, heeled boots heavy on the floor. “Pathetic.” She says, a light scolding, a chiming thing that seemed more like a schoolyard taunt than a threat.

But Hifumi could tell this girl was a threat. Maybe she had a dangerous ultimate talent- he knew for a fact that even if an ultimate skill was illegal they could be admitted and given essentially some form of diplomatic immunity while they attended the school.

“Why the hell are you here lady?!” Ikuta snapped, standing fully with her hands on her hips.

The girl put both her hands in the air, as if surrendering, but she was smiling, amusement sparkling in those eyes that seemed to dig into anything she laid them on, ferreting out as much information as she could. “I just want to play a game with my fellow ultimates.” She said, placating and condescending.

Hifumi, who was tired, confused, and could be watching his friend play video games right now, finally spoke up. “Can any of you ultimates ever explain anything, or is being cryptic part of the main course syllabus?”

The girl turned to him and glared, and Hifumi couldn’t help the small squeak of fear that slipped from his mouth when her face twisted into a sneer. It was a dramatic expression, he had seen it in games and shows, but no one had ever looked at him like that, no matter how many bullies he had faced. Like he was less than nothing, his very existence something to be loathed.

“A. Game. That shouldn’t be so hard for a simple reserve course student to understand, right? After all, you don’t spend your time doing anything worthwhile, if you can’t even manage to get into the main course.” The girl’s voice dripped with malice, and she quickly took over at the podium.

Umesawa backed up even more, now close to the window opposite of the door to the classroom, hands tugging her hood back up so she could pull at the fake rabbit ears in nervousness.

“I will keep it simple.” The girl shot Hifumi another look. “Last man standing wins. Go.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense.” Ikuta stepped out into the aisle between desks, pointing a finger at the girl as she demanded answers. “Just who the fuck do you think you are, demanding shit from us? Are you some reserve course kid? We’ve had enough from Yamada-”

Everyone’s eyes had been on Kotomi Ikuta, they hadn’t noticed the threatening girl at the front moving at all, assuming she had been just as stunned by the rant, until Ikuta was cut off by a gunshot.

Hifumi had heard guns before, in games, in animes, in movies. There were different patterns to them depending on the type, and when he and Hina became really invested in a game he would bother to tell them apart, the distinct rapid pulses, the blasts and thunderous booms from all different kinds of weaponry. He had never heard one in real life, had never been in the same room as a real gun, even though he knew there was a shooting range up on the fifth floor for those whose talents needed such things.

It was louder than he expected, and the noise was what made him freeze. In the middle of the classroom, Ikuta fell to her knees, then slumped forward. Shrill screams and rumbling expletives filled the room.

It took a moment, to properly process all of the information and connect the dots. When he did Hifumi couldn’t stop the sharp gasp, even though all it did was make him notice the sharp sulfuric stench of gunpowder, as well as the metallic tang of fresh blood. Things he had never experienced before.

An ultimate had died right before his eyes, by something as simple as the handgun that rested like it was molded to be in the strange threatening girl’s black gloved hand. The girl’s eyes were alight with something Hifumi couldn’t understand as she huffed through her nose in what might have been amusement.

She dropped the duffle bag in her other hand, the thing spilling open to reveal an assortment of weapons from knives to swords, hammers and screwdrivers, guns of all shapes and sizes. They were real, the flash of silvery metal, the dull gleam of tools with a new use branded onto them right before their eyes.

“If that’s not enough for you, I’ve got more.” The girl smirked, and waved to the still open door. A cart came rolling in, it’s top shelf littered with larger weapons. A chainsaw, a mace, a sledgehammer, all on top of it, all perfectly clean as if even they didn’t know what a dark omen they were, as if they didn’t know their capacity to do harm in the right hands.

At the bottom of the cart there was a large case which the girl pulled onto the floor with ease after sliding her handgun into a previously unseen holster high up on her thigh. She kicked the case with her boot, walking around it and towards the door. “That holds all the motivation you’ll need.”

“Everyone stay calm!” Umesawa ordered, straightening up from where she had been cowering. “No one touch those weapons- someone could get hurt!” Her voice was as sweet as ever, even with the urgency, she took out her phone and flipped it open, only for her face to fall.

Yokō stood up from his place at the back of the room, turning his flip phone around as if to show it off. “No connection.”

Kubo stood up, gesturing broadly to the class. “She can’t stop all of us, just listen to Umesawa!”

But everyone seemed to be getting up, fourteen students all in one room, some paralyzed by fear, others covering their fear with anger. Hifumi stayed seated, staring, unable to process it all at once, afraid.

A student who had been at Ikuta’s side the instant she fell, trying to help her even after a gunshot wound to the forehead, lunged forward and grabbed one of the spilled weapons at random. He ran towards the terrifying girl who had orchestrated Ikuta’s death. The boy, Someya, was holding a shotgun that was almost too big for him to handle. The little plushies on keychains at his belt jingled slightly, at odds with the cold metal in his hands. Before he could aim, someone grabbed at him.

Ichino tried to grapple the weapon away from Someya, but the small boy clung to the instrument of death with a desperation no one in the room had seen before now in a human being. Someya was frantic, eyes glassy with tears, his distinctive blue bowlcut in disarray as he shook his head, saying how she needed to pay for killing Ikuta.

In the chaos Hifumi finally stood, moving to the wall the door was on, his back hitting the wall quickly as he tried to look around. Umesawa still was at the podium, pleading for order. Gōryoku was shielding some of the others who had broken down into tears with his large muscular body, and some other students had approached the front of the classroom.

Someya was facing the door, facing the girl who had her gun in one hand but was toying with her braid as well, as if bored. She hummed an uneven tune, as if bored, as if waiting for a show to start.

“Please!” Someya cried, tears falling as the shotgun was wrenched out of his hands, the gun making a sharp cracking sound as it hit the floor.

Then the katana entered his chest from behind, skewering him. As the weapon was pulled out with a wet sucking sound Hifumi wished he could never have heard, the girl holding the weapon sobbed. “My mother- they have my mother- I’m so s-sorry, I can’t-!”

With a sob that devolved into a scream, Kisaragi kicked away the file of photographs she had taken from the case, the motive set out for them. It showed a middle aged woman bound to a chair, screaming into a gag.

“Karen! Please, listen-!” Umesawa implored, a hand outstretched. “Put down the-!” She let out a small scream when Kirasagi lurched forward, slashing the katana.

The sword embedded itself into the podium. Most of the class either hung back or scattered to grab the motives, and then the weapons.

Hifumi could only focus on one thing at a time, the sounds. The wet thunk of metal sinking into flesh, into the soft organs of the human body, so fragile even if the person had been deemed ultimate. Gunshots, sobbing, deranged laughter, screams and death rattles.

Hifumi staggered under the onslaught of sensory information overloading his mind with no way to filter it, no way to stop it. All he could do was try to get away.

Blood splattered onto his blazer, up his neck and onto his face as another student died. With a short, faltering yell, he pushed someone out of the way of the door and began to run.

The moonlight streaming into the hallways washed them in a pale ghostly glow, as if illuminating perfection, as if a spotlight was needed. Hifumi didn’t know it, but he looked similar to when he spoke to his friends in late night chats, his lights off in his room and illuminated only by the pale glow of a computer screen, tired and giggling.

Pink marred the walls and floors. In the classroom Hifumi abandoned, a boy he had spoken to, someone in a committee with him, was brutally beaten to death with a chair. A girl he knew was stabbed. Another was strangled. The events tumbled together into one big massacre, one big game, one big show, and the girl who pulled the strings to watch this all happen couldn’t help the grin on her usually passive face as she left the scene into her own lair.

Someone stood at her side now, shorter than her, but even more intimidating. A person in a pristine suit and long black hair, almost ridiculous in its length. Their red eyes seemed to gleam as they watched, but their pointed features never twitched from an expressionless mask of disinterest.

“Satisfied, Izuru?” Kirigiri asked once she reached her control room, one of her lackeys nodding to her reverentially and giving her the seat. Another approached her other side, giggling.

“...” Izuru’s eyes slid to the side, towards where the lackey who had been in the chair now cowered, too horrified to watch what he assisted in causing, pathetic. The girl laughing into her hand was small, and with Izuru’s keen sight and ultimate knowledge, Izuru knew that the girl was thirteen at best, too young, yet still an ultimate. She was enthralled by the gore on screen, delighted by it, just as much as she was enthralled by Kirigiri, who put a hand on the young girl’s shoulder, speaking words but never telling her anything.

With a small huff through their nose, Izuru turned and left to see the scene for himself.

Hifumi didn’t know when someone had got him with a blade. They evidently had, from the wound on his arm pouring blood, pink staining his nice uniform, running through his fingers even when he tried his best to stop the bleeding.

He continued to stumble on, mind overloaded with information, with fear, and he couldn’t help but just blank out on all of it. There was too much to process, too much to bear acknowledging. With a ragged huff, he leaned against a wall of lockers, the cool metal a relief from everything, another nothingness to sink into.

The wall of windows allowed in so much moonlight, for a moment Hifumi thought it was day, that any moment so many of the best students in the country would come pouring out of their classrooms. Maybe his friends would be among them, Hina tapping on her phone or the newest handheld console, Sakura making sure they didn’t bump into anyone.

They would see him, and Sakura would hold him. She was so strong, so steady. She could carry Hifumi to the infirmary, could bandage him up and offer him a lollipop with that slight smile she got when she talked to him or Hina. She would fret over him any time she saw him until the bandage was finally gone, she would insist on carrying his bag or his notes for student council-

Hifumi swallowed down a sob, pushing himself onward. Screams echoed down hallways made to carry the voices of the best, the last cries of those who were dead the moment that girl walked into their meeting. It hurt, to keep moving, to keep acting as if just running away would save him, but everything would hurt no matter what choice he made.

All he wanted was to hang out in Hina’s dorm, his best friends at his side as they all rested on Hina’s bright pink bed, Sakura studying late into the night as he and Hina fell asleep against her.

He wanted so much, and he was never going to get it, not now. Hifumi knew he was going to die here, he just knew it. Was this something other people felt, like a blanket of fresh snow, cold and melting deep into his bones as he realized death was coming for him, an unstoppable force? Was this something that had always been there waiting for him, and he only noticed it now when his head swam and pink dripped from his fingers?

In every game, every anime, every manga, the hero managed to get up and keep going. Whether to escape only to save the day later, or to defeat whatever stood in their way. No one expected that of Hifumi. Maybe they would think an ultimate was capable of it, and there were thirteen ultimates he had left behind to tear each other apart.

He heard a high pitched, screaming cackle and the revving of a chainsaw, the cut off screams of a victim, far enough away that he wasn’t in danger.

Hifumi wouldn’t find any heroes here. All he could do was try his best.

The ones who cared for him, his friends, that’s all they had ever asked of him. To try his best, to keep going, to rely on them if he needed to. Hifumi needed them more than ever, Hina’s endless energy and excitement, Sakura’s quiet strength and support. Hina would be in her dorm, headphones on as she kept talking and talking, playing video games for thousands to see. Sakura was studying a new medical journal, sitting on Hina’s bed, out of view of the webcam.

They were so close but so far, and they were all he could think of. Would they send worried texts when he never messaged them goodnight? Would they wait until tomorrow morning, thinking he had been tired from the meeting? Would they use the extra key to his dorm he gave them, and find his room as he left it, as if nothing was amiss? Would he become another muttered rumor, like the supposed death of a girl in the computer lab of the reserve course?

Would anyone aside from Hina and Sakura notice him gone from campus? He was invisible to the other reserve course students. Maybe they would wonder why there was an extra desk in their classroom, and dismiss it just as quickly as a mistake, never remembering him.

Tears welled up in his eyes. It was all too much, the noises, the things he had seen. Hifumi had never seen someone die before. He had never seen someone kill before. He had never seen carnage, or gore, or death. He wanted nothing more than to calm his racing thoughts, but they all piled up and screamed until he reached nothing, slumped against some lockers. His left hand was in his mouth, and he bit down harshly on the joint of his thumb, his right hand clutching where he had been injured.

He screamed silently, throat hurting, tears finally spilling. He was so tired and scared and lost and he just wanted- he didn’t know what he wanted, he didn’t know what to do, it all was piling up, it was washing over him, a tsunami of panic and blood, bright pink and towering over him, until it finally fell and consumed him without even noticing.

Hifumi continued to dig his teeth into his hand, it was something solid, letting him know that he was here. He brought his knees up to his chest, his legs squishing into his stomach. He let go of his wound, his right hand coming up to pull at his short curly hair as he keened. The wet sticky feeling of blood on his hand, in his hair, was so bad but the grounding pull of pain in his scalp was something that kept him from trying to slam his head into the wall or something equally damaging, because he needed anything to stop his mind from screaming, to stop himself from screaming. He began to rock back and forth, crying.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. The moon watched on, impassive in its pale glow. Was time really passing, or had the world ended the moment that girl shot Ikuta? Was the planet still spinning? Would the moon ever set?

“Get up Yamada.”

Chills swept down Hifumi’s spine, he swore someone was talking, but all he could hear were distant gunshots and screams.

“Yamada! Get up!” A polished shoe kicked him in the shin, and Hifumi finally looked up.

Murasame stood before him, leaning on a pitchfork. The dark grey tines were splattered with blood already, dripping down onto the floor. Hifumi stared at the blood, mind numb, lungs and throat pained by the sobs that had wracked his body.

“I can’t kill a guy who’s crying like a baby. Are you a man or not, Yamada? I know you’re just a stupid reserve course, but c’mon. Get up, die with a little bit of dignity.” Murasame rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. He bent down to look at Hifumi like he was nothing more than a bug on the ground, disgusting. His brown hair shifted to cover his face as he leaned, before snorting wryly and standing up straight again, rolling his eyes.

Hifumi choked on another sob, trying to just breathe. He used both of his hands to brace against the lockers behind him, trying to stand. He didn’t know why he bothered, but it was something to do. Maybe Murasame was joking? Maybe he would help Hifumi?

The moment Hifumi was steady on his feet Murasame backed up, swinging his pitchfork up, an arc of pink that glowed in the moonlight following it.

Hifumi ran again. He turned a corner down the hall, still between a wall of lockers and windows, still in a cold empty husk of a school, and he didn’t stop.

He bumped into something- someone, and stumbled back, looking at them. A short person with long black hair and pointed features, deep red eyes that stared at him with nothing behind them. “Sorry!” He shrieked, the habit converging against his fear as he quickly stepped around the person and kept running.

Izuru raised an eyebrow and deftly hid between the lockers as another ultimate passed, this one full of bloodlust, hunting the boy who ran into them. It was different, interesting, but Izuru kept moving. They had more to see than this.

Every breath seared from Hifumi’s lungs, his body ached as he did his best to keep moving. But he didn’t even make it all the way down the hallway. Hacking into his bloodied hands, he ended up falling against one of the massive windows that made up the outside wall of the school. His injured arm burned with pain against the cold glass.

Hifumi whimpered, turning to keep his back to the glass as he heard sprinting footsteps slow and reach him.

“Everyone hated you, Yamada.” Murasame huffed, both hands holding the pitchfork as if it was a staff.

“What?” Hifumi wheezed out, more confused than frightened.

“You waltz in, a useless reserve course, and start telling us what to do. We had a betting pool going on whether you were just that oblivious that you didn’t notice how annoying you were, or if you really were just that annoying.” Murasame sneered.

“Wh-What?!”

Murasame let go of his pitchfork with one of his hands to point at Hifumi accusingly, the tines of the weapon scraping against the floor loudly, making Hifumi flinch away.

“That. Is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re so annoying and don’t even fucking know, do you? Handing out orders, trying to get us to help a bunch of teenagers who convinced their parents to blow their money just to attend Hope’s Peak- it’s a wonder no one offed you before now.” Murasame swung the pitchfork back up, both hands on the weapon as he pointed it at Hifumi.

“No- please-!” Hifumi begged, trying to dive out of the way.

The sound of cracking glass echoed around the hall as Murasame chuckled. “Really?”

Hifumi wanted to back away, wanted to run again, but fear paralyzed him.

Murasame just shook his head, pulling back his pitchfork and causing the window to fully shatter. “Get up Yamada. I’m not killing you while you cower. Unlike you, I’m better than that.”

Hifumi made another noise, a whimpered plea even he couldn’t understand, and stood up. He trembled and breathed in the cold night air that rushed through the broken window.

Murasame wacked Hifumi in the head with the side of the pitchfork, toying with him.

Hifumi stumbled to the side, now fully in front of the empty window frame, shards of glass still clinging to the sides. Part of him wondered if he should say something cool. Last words were supposed to be cool, right? That was for heroes, and he had always wanted to be one. He had always wanted too much.

Murasame bared his teeth and stabbed forward, the tines of his pitchfork sinking into Hifumi’s abdomen. For a moment all Hifumi could feel was the force of it, like a gut punch, something he hadn’t been a stranger to back in his middle school days. But sharp pain quickly followed, spreading, and he staggered back, the heel of his shoe hitting open air. He grabbed at the long handle of the pitchfork reflexively, unable to do anything about it.

Murasame lunged forward, trying to grab the handle of his weapon, but he missed. The revving of a chainsaw grew steadily closer, as well the unhinged laughter of an ultimate pushed to the edge. Hifumi’s killer didn’t bother watching him fall, instead running in search of a new weapon.

Hifumi gasped raggedly as he tipped out of the window, the world swinging away until all he saw was the sky. The black of night was endless, the faded stars twinkled, the moon still shined. They wouldn’t change with one boy’s death. They wouldn’t care.

As he fell, all he regretted was not giving Hina and Sakura a better goodbye. He felt the slight scrape of leaves and then his body slammed into the ground, rendering him unconscious.

He wouldn’t wake for days. When the school’s security would find him during their sweep of the grounds, it would be an hour after they already found the unresponsive, unconscious body of Aiko Umesawa, her yellow rabbit hoodie stained pink. She would be taken to a nearby hospital, and she would be silenced before she had a chance to wake.

Hifumi was found later, a pitchfork still stuck in his stomach, and that was for the best, as it staved off the worst of the bleeding as it stayed in the wound. He had sustained a head injury and a cut to his arm, but it was better than the twelve dead students littering the second floor of Hope’s Peak Academy. A dozen bright, beautiful students all dead, their lives destroyed before they could truly live.

The school board of Hope’s Peak knew another factor to the puzzling killing game. Their pet project, Izuru Kamakura, was missing. The Ultimate Hope, the Ultimate Ultimate, was gone and most of the staff who attended to the project were dead or had been enjoying a day off in the peace of their own home, unknowing that their colleagues were being slaughtered like animals.

It had to have been Izuru Kamakura that unleashed this bloodshed. The project ensured that the Ultimate Hope had every talent and skill ever recorded, the school board knew how easily their little project could kill, could hide bodies. They assumed it was a vengeful sign to the board, thinking themselves worth the carnage. The school board thought too highly of themselves. They underestimated just how easy it was to bring an ultimate to a breaking point.

An entire life that culminated in a title, and ultimate, until that was all they were known for. They had to constantly one-up themselves, to constantly prove to others, and to themself, that they were the best. Years of effort, years of blood, sweat, and tears. Everything relied on their ultimate. Their world revolved around it, until they became the embodiment of their ultimate, until their ultimate became them.

When tasked with murder, with letting go of any inhibition and just committing violence, just causing harm, something any human being was capable of, they took to the task with an almost inhuman speed. Some would need a push, but even then, their calculating mind would whir and they would frame everything to their advantage. They would come out on top, they had to. They were an ultimate after all.

But the school board only saw the brightest of their students, children. The blame was placed on Izuru Kamakura, and they quickly moved to cover up any signs of the incident.

Hifumi Yamada would have been placed in the same hospital as his student council president, and would have been silenced just the same, two birds with one stone, but that didn’t happen. The Ultimate Nurse Sakura Oogami demanded the school fly her best friend to her clan’s clinic. She would take care of any medical need, or else she and her girlfriend, the Ultimate Gamer, would drop out of Hope’s Peak permanently, and Asahina would use her global fame to ensure that the reputation of their former school was dragged through the mud.

The school board didn’t care much if the reserve course student died, but it was best if the kid died out of their responsibility, so they used the school’s helicopter to fly Hifumi, Sakura, and Hina all to the Oogami clan’s isolated compound.

Days passed where Sakura tended to her best friend’s wounds, and he awoke. His shifting had roused Hina, who had been sleeping at his bedside, and she ran to get Sakura.

Hifumi couldn’t help but cry in Sakura’s arms, crying himself to sleep within minutes of waking, but this sleep was far more restful. He knew he was safe. He knew he would be cared for. He knew he’d never have to go through something so bad like that ever again.

Two weeks would pass from this incident, and Hifumi would find himself locked in Hope’s Peak Academy, working with the 78th class to bolt over any window and make sure they could never, ever escape. He would agree to lock himself into the building where the worst thing to ever happen to him occurred. He agreed because Hina and Sakura would be at his side. He agreed because he knew they would be safe, together.

Hifumi’s memories of the School Council Killing Game were unclear. He would wake from nightmares gasping for air, never fully remembering the faces of his fellow students who died, only remembering the indifferent moonlight and the gleam of deranged eyes.

When Hifumi would ask Kyoko Kirigiri if they had ever met before, the Ultimate Lucky Student would smile awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders and saying that he must be thinking of someone else, and he would believe her, unknowing of the deep, undying loathing she carried in her heart towards him. Unknowing that she had sworn to kill him with her own hands one day.

#my talentswap #writing #Hifumi Yamada #Aoi Asahina #Sakura Oogami #Kyoko Kirigiri #danganronpa talentswap

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celestialpearls · 4 years

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➱ love in seasons

➱ Yoon Jeonghan x reader

➱ slice of life, fluff

➱ 2288 words

➱ Love is reminiscent of the four seasons. It blooms in spring. It shines bright under the hot sun. It offers comfort in the winter. It is nurtured in shades of yellow and orange.

➱ Happy birthday to the 🍓 strawberry🍓 lover! Hanniehae to all of you! 💗

Fondness covers its earnest arms around you, with growth and various colours making their welcomed appearance. Surrounded by blooming plants in many colours and shapes, it should be a given for visitors to have their sights trained on teeming nature. It is partly true in your case at least, as your boyfriend is incomparable to these things. You couldn’t stop thinking about the childlike glow in his gaze regarding the botanical garden, hand rubbing his neck.

“Let’s see it together,” his voice was soft, uttered on a still afternoon at your shared apartment. And how could you say no?

His legs are clad in navy blue, a loose beige shirt floating delicately on him. His hair has grown quickly and the onyx strands are in slight waves. Your thumb swipes across the photos you’ve taken of him and you place your phone inside your handbag. The sun’s rays wash the garden in butter yellow, enhancing the allure of your boyfriend.

You wrap your arm around his waist as you put your cheek on his back. He rubs circles on the skin of your hand and gently pulls it apart so he could have you in front of him. He takes you into his arms, your ear pressed against his chest as he kisses your forehead. Jeonghan pulls away for a moment, an eyebrow raised, “where were you?”

“Was taking photos of flowers while you were preoccupied here,” you respond.

“So, your phone is filled with photos of me then?” Jeonghan cups his face, and your full laugh causes his heart to stutter. Causes his heart to cartwheel in utter joy. He loves seeing you like this and being one of the reasons for your tinkling laughter. As much as he wants you close to him, he opts to intertwine your fingers together. But you don’t budge as you only tighten your embrace. Another kiss is placed on your forehead.

“Let’s go, angel. We have more to see,” he plucks the eyelash under your eye.

Your mouth forms an ‘o,’ eyes brightening at the sight behind him. He turns his head, a pebble-grey waterfall standing proud in the middle. It is surrounded by seaweed-green bushes trimmed to a circle, bundles of snowdrop flowers lining the bottom of the bushes. Behind the waterfall displays a floral wall, flowers in its variety spelling out ‘ROYAL’ and butterflies residing on petals. A circular, umber bench is placed a meter away from the waterfall, as he asks, “you want to take a photo?”

You nod eagerly, “of us.”

A grin paints his lips at your apparent enthusiasm and he takes out his phone from his front pocket. Jeonghan reluctantly approaches a couple to take your pictures, to which they agree with. He guides you to stand in front of him as he dangles his arms loosely from your neck, your fingers filling the gaps flawlessly between his own. Unaware, the couple with Jeonghan’s phone share a smile at your interactions as one of them counts down to take the photo. They know that the finished product can only capture a part of the genuine and tender love that is clear between both of you. But at least these photos will serve as a cherished memory formed during the season of bloom.

“3, 2, 1. Smile!”

You snort at the nth exhale of impatience that came from Jeonghan as you walk out of the bedroom.

“Y/N, I’ll literally freeze without you!”

“I’ll be quick!”

You chuckle and reprimand yourself to get everything that’s needed so you don’t have to go back out. Just as he was about to press play on the TV remote, you had shot out from bed because you forgot the hot chocolate. Disbelief had carved itself on his face as you wiggled away from his embrace. You add the marshmallows for the finishing touches and make your way back to the bedroom. Jeonghan is cocooned under the thick, olive green duvet and the sleeves of his hoodie are pulled to his fingertips. Your heart is close to imploding from how effortlessly handsome your boyfriend is.

The soft thud of your footsteps makes him look up, forgoing his phone as finally - well hopefully - you won’t be getting up from the bed any time soon. You give him his mug as he places it on his bedside table and he opens his arms, kissing his cheek as you cuddle up to him. The heater is on but the shared body heat does wonders to satiate the cold settling on your figure. Jeonghan taps your nose, mirth lacing his tone, “you’re not going to shoot out of bed again, are you?”

He takes a sip of the hot beverage and it takes you a while to answer for him for two reasons. Firstly, the sunrise orange that is emitted from the standing lamp next to him gives him a delicate glow. It highlights his eyes, swirls of gold and soil that catch your attention. Secondly, he was just too attractive for your own good in his most casual clothing.

Jeonghan notes your silence, a soft grin pulling at his lips at your gentle gaze. He sits up and leans close, his gaze trailing from your eyes and down to your lips. His tone is low and soft, “can I kiss you?” And you don’t need to be told twice, the duvet falling away as you sit up, your hand cupping the underside of his jaw. He tasted slightly of the warm beverage, all sweet and warm as he gently lifts you on to his lap. You pull away, albeit hesitantly as you peck his upper lip, foreheads pressed together.

He kisses your cheek and ushers you back on to your side of the bed. He lifts up his arm as you lean your head on to his chest. Before Jeonghan could press play, your lips softly touch his again and the love in his heart spills as you giggle at his surprised expression. He chuckles at your actions and presses play at your urge that both of you should finish the drama soon. Winter brings the both of you closer, and it does nothing to tamper the warmth you both share.

“Hurry up, angel! Cheol already saved a bench.”

You huff as you check that the power outlets are off, feet about to take you into the kitchen only to recall Jeonghan has already placed the stuff for the picnic in his car. Jeonghan looks up from his phone when the door lock clicks into place and smiles at how you look cute in your outfit. You scrunch your nose when he places his red snapback on top of your head, the brim facing backwards. He puts his arm around your shoulder and adjusts his hat on you, “ready to go?”

You take the elevator, aware of the time and the food that was prepared. The car ride to Serenity Park was smooth and the conversation would lapse into comfortable silences. Jeonghan would occasionally take your hand while driving only for you to reprimand him to concentrate on the road. But of course he doesn’t listen, and instead says holding your hand makes him feel good. And whenever Jeonghan says anything of the sort, you can’t really deny him of anything so you intertwine your fingers together.

He parks the car and you open the boot to grab the picnic blanket plus the woven basket of food. Jeonghan takes the basket in one hand and goes to grasp your hand, but he feels a slight wind when you run.

“Soonyoung!”

He sees Soonyoung stagger back in surprise, but the latter returns your hug. Nina waves at Jeonghan with Seungcheol, Seokmin and Chan shouting his name.

“There they go again,” Seungcheol sighs.

Jeonghan follows his best friend’s gaze directed at you and Soonyoung. The blue frisbee flies through the air and into your hands clumsily as Soonyoung teases you. Your laughter is clear and joyful, the sun giving you a vibrant glow.

“Whipped,” Seungcheol mutters.

“Maybe if you confessed to Nina…” Jeonghan trails off, a yelp escaping him when his best friend slaps his arm.

Seokmin calls you and Soonyoung over to eat, with Jeonghan scooting over on the bench to make room for you. You feel your boyfriend’s arm snake around your waist and though you’re sure you won’t fall backwards, his gesture still makes your heart flutter. Jokes and laughter fill up your conversations, and it was fun despite the day slowly starting to heat up. You and Jeonghan exchange glances as Seungcheol fills up Nina’s plate first before his.

After everyone eats, you’re left on the navy blue picnic blanket laid out on the grass. The other five start a game of frisbee while you scroll on your phone, very content with just laying down. The smidge of sunlight that was protected by your sunglasses is completely blocked by Jeonghan. You lift up your glasses and raise your eyebrow, “can I lay on your lap?”

You grab the pink towel and place it on your lap, tapping it so he can lay down. “Tired already?”

He makes a sound in assent and guides your hand to his chestnut brown hair. Your eyes look pretty, eye makeup enhanced by the sun. You look at him with so much gentleness, then and now, and his heart can’t help but quicken. Jeonghan brings your other hand above his heart, where it beats just for you. Your fingers brushing his strands cause his eyes to droop and he feels you poke his cheek.

“Sleep,” you state. You kiss his forehead and continue to brush his hair back. The slightly cool breeze makes up for the golden star, her rays making your boyfriend more enchanting. He kisses the inside of your wrist, “like it when you brush my hair. Keep doing it, please.”

Summer keeps the love between the both of you bright, alive and tinged with light.

“Y/N!”

You’re met with soft, chestnut brown hair against your cheek as Jeonghan’s younger sister hugs you. He pokes his sister’s forehead, “excuse me. I’m your brother, remember?”

You and her share an eye roll but your heart warms up when she kisses his cheek. You hang up your black coat on the stand near the door, Jeonghan holding you steady as you take off your shoes. She loops her arm through yours, making her way to the dining area where Jeonghan’s parents are. His mum lights up seeing the both of you, taking the bag of food from you and ushering you to take a seat.

“Are you sure you don’t need help, Mrs. Yoon?”

“I told you to call me mum, sweetheart,” she corrects you and waves you away, her smile cheeky.

You hug his dad, his eyes crinkling at the sides and he excuses himself in case his wife needs help. Jeonghan calls your name, dragging out the syllables and you find him in the living room. He pulls you to sit next to him on the couch, your arm around his waist and his as a pillow for your neck.

“My sister is forgetting that she has a brother now because of you,” he rubs circles on your hands.

“She likes me more than you,” you tease.

You really should be used to his unexpected, yet sweet remarks by now. After all, you’ve been together for three years. But to no avail because your heart flutters away from you. He smiles softly and the look in his eyes is loving, “impossible. I like you more.”

The door opens again and Jeonghan squeezes your hand before he stands up to greet your parents. You do too and you grin instantly with the way your parents treat your boyfriend. Your dad pats Jeonghan’s back while your mum cups his face in her hands. Your mum’s gesture is identical to what you do when he’s sulking and he notes the similarity fondly.

You hug both of your parents and they go straight to the kitchen to greet the hosts. Jeonghan places his chin on your shoulder, arms around your waist as he sways the both of you.

“You and your mum do the same thing with me,” he says.

You turn in his hold, putting your arms around his neck as you raise an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“You both like cupping my face.”

You mirror your mum’s action and reassure him, “that we do. It’s because my mum and I are fond of you.”

The smile that paints his lips is beautiful, radiant; the light in his eyes from your comment radiant. You being one of the most important people in his life telling him that your family likes him makes him feel inexplicably joyful. He strokes your cheek, “I’m glad that that’s the case.”

Mrs. Yoon’s voice is clear when she calls the both of you for dinner. Everyone catches up and his younger sister makes you promise that you both should go out soon. Just you and her, she emphasised to Jeonghan who overheard your conversation. Conversation is easy and smooth, with Mr and Mrs. Yoon being amazing hosts. The gathering wasn’t planned for anything grand, both families had wanted to catch up, hence here you are.

Jeonghan feels incredibly lucky that his family loves you. Just like him, it was only a matter of time before they warmed up to you and he was over the moon. You were charming, kind and easygoing - it’s not hard for anyone to fall for you. Falling for you was was as natural as the attraction of butterflies to colourful petals.

Autumn colours your love in honey yellow and bronze; it’s refreshing and thrives in growth.

#svt #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan imagines #seventeen imagines #jeonghan drabble #seventeen drabble #jeonghan fic #seventeen fic #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #jeonghan x reader

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mega-bastard · 3 years

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i was kidnapped by shiratorizawa ?!?!?!?!

this was painful to write, but like a masochist I did it anyway. this is my part of the the first Whorehouse Collab, located here. Finally getting back into writing fanfics since like 2015, this was oddly therapeutic.

I wrote this under the influence of magic grass after binging several wattpad fics, enjoy at your own risk-- by which I mean laugh alongside me LMAO

The ending is sososo rushed, in true wattpad fashion <3 this was 1.3K words of nonsense

When I woke up today, I didn’t think I’d end up in such a bind— bindings to be more specific. I’m just your average little miss no one, another everyday student easily lost in the in the crowd. Wearing glasses and being like super shy does that to u, yknow?

Now, blindfolded and tied up, I can’t help but wonder just how someone so unnoticeable had gotten snatched up so suddenly— perhaps that was had why you were taken (insert Liam neeson voice: I will find you, and I will kill you hehe >:3). Now, with the full throb in my head beginning to subside— I started to recount what had bringed me into such s predicament

~ rewind to earlier in the day ~

I’d only just waked up when I received a text from my best friend mina (bnha wink wonk) gushing about or schools volleyball match— to say she was crazy in love aoba Joshuas volleyball team would be selling it crazily underwhelmed. Especially their captain, oikawa tooru ! Most of our school did, but I was really observant of the people around me— he gives me weird vibes, like he puts on an act or something. But still, I keep that thoght to myself so no one comes for me. Seriously, he’s got fans like a Kpop star (a/n haha stan bts for clear skin uwu)

Either way, her dragging me to a volleyball game is nothing new— and as she’s blowing my messages up like the world is ending I know what to expect this coming afternoon. What a pain, I had planned on watching naruto when I got home today :(

There was no telling Mina no, so when we enviably met to walk to school I was well aware I’d be attending the volleyball match today. Boring, but I’d manage— I don’t care much for sports but sweaty and muscley men are finer than fine, I’d at least have spank bank material hehe (a/n not to whore on main buuuuuut ;3).

The day flew by and suddenly I found my self seated on the stands, waiting for the game to begin. Mina was chatting away, so when the urge to go to the bathroom came I simply got up and left— I wouldn’t get a word in edgewise, everyone always runs at the mouth and I can never get a word in as a result.

Not paying attention on my way to the bathroom, I suddenly shivered— feeling watched. I looked up from staring at the floor and was brought face to face with...the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Team ?!?! At the head was the tank of a captain, japans number one ace Ushijima Wakayoshi (a/n a whole snack yumyum) was indomitable and a scary man to be faced with. Ushijima was still as fierce as ever; I say that because we’d gone to middle school together— we never spoke or anything like that but we’d been in the same classes. He scrutinized my small form with impassive olive eyes, I felt rooted in place at such a state.

I shook myself from my little reverie and quickly scurried off, heart beating a mile a minute. “ just find the bathroom and head back to Mina “ I murmured to myself, finally finding the bathroom after rounding a corner. The feeling of being watched finally lifting.

After using the bathroom and began to head back, I could hear someone...singing something? I began to head towards it out of curiosity, peeking around a corner to see a tall red haired guy and a grey haired guy— they were wearing the same uniform so they must also be a part of the team as well! Lost in my thoughts, I was only briefly able to dick away before the red haired guy turned around to where I was peeking.

Ok seriously, let’s head back ‘ I thought before scurrying back to Mina— who grilled me on my absence before becoming entranced in the starting game. I stayed on my phone for the most part, reading one direction fanfic— with the phone screen down waaay low (a/n who else has done this before ???). Id peek every now and again to watch, at one point catching the eye of the tall red head— a chill ran down my spin at his impish smile that I looked away immediately.

He was...cute. In a scary way.

A sudden hush flew across the crowd and I looked up in time to see oikawas serve hit clean across the net, received by some guy with brown hair before being set by some twat with shitty hair (a/n shirabus a twat, their I said it >:/) before the ball was spiked back with a force unmatched.

That was Match point. Shiratorizawa wins.

The air is oppressive, oikawas fan girls— mina included, are wailing. That’s my cue to exit, bidding a mina goodbye I began my way down the hail, the rush of the court fading into background.

Then suddenly, rushing feet and the crack of something hard against my skull.

Darkness consumed me.

~ back to the present ~

Now back to the hear and now, I hear murmerings-- voices I don’t recognize. I try to listen, try to focus in on their voices but I can’t as the throbbing in my skull takes my focus away. A whimper escapes me, and a silence sweeps across wherever I am like a breeze-- it’s scary.

“haha, is she awake?” it’s the sing=songy voice from before-- the red head probably then? I know I needed to say something, anything, but I was still to disoriented. The sound of shoes nearing me immeadiatly set me off, beginning to wiggle and move before I was held still vision suddenly assaulted with brightness as my blindfold is redmoved.

Standing before, me in all their glory, is the Shiratorizawa volleyball team??

It looks like I’m being held in...an empty dorm room? I’m trying to gather my bearings and cannot figure what to possibly ay before being yanked up harshly from a laying position. It’s the red head holding me up, wicked smile and everything as he crouches in front of me before opening his mouth.

“ You belong to us now, got it~” his voice is too cheery given the words he’s just said to me (a/n tendou owns my heart and soul <3333 ), and only now does my voice find me. “ B-but w-why m-m-me ? You c-can’t j-just do t-that, please just let me g-g-g-g-g-g-go !” by the time I finish blubbering, theres tears streaming down my cheeks like rushing rivers. Through my lashes, I look pitifully around at everyone-- landing on an umcomfortble looking kid with a bowl cut, but he looks away as soon as i stare up at him.

no, no ,no nononono no ones going to help me. the tears fall puddle on the floor, only growing in speed when ushijima speaks. “ You’ll be transfering here, become our manager, and be staying in this dorm room-- it’s already been settled” (a/n idk I’d be p happy to be shiratorizawa’s manager uwu) his voice is deep and leaves no room for any back talk, but my stomach drops at his next sentence “Semi, put it on her’ my head whips up, starring doe eyed at the grey haired guy from before as he approaches with...IS THAT A COLLAR AND LEASH??? (a/n insert debby ryan face)

my face heats up, embarrassed and ashamed at the idea of being collared like an animal. I try to wiggle away, annoying Semi, “Tendou hold her still damnit!” at that Tendou-- the red head, grips my face with one hand to keep me still, gripping it hard enough that hes smushing my cheeks (a/n tendou, t e n d o u, loml, how I cherish thee) . He mutters a quiet cute, so faint I think I’m hearing things, before the tightening of the collar breaks me from that train of thought. With that done, I’m released, falling to my hands and knees staring up at the entire team now gathered before me.

A tug on the leash tugs me forward without much effort, and the tears spring up once more at the humiliation.

“This is gonna be fun~”

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

ok so I hoped you guys loved it <3 I’ll try my best to get out weekly updates, next chap I’m thinking I either focus on how ushijima and reader-chan actually do know eachother, shirabu and semi fiighting of reader-chans attention, or maybe tendou and reader-chan getting into trouble while draggin goshiki into it! SOund off in the comments and let me know what you think ?? anyway love you guys sm <33333

#SHBNIOKSM?S #I feel ill after this #but in the best way <3 #I feel so wrong writing them this way LOL #Is ok #crackfic #kidnapped by haikyuu #miki mouse whorehouse collab #shiratorizawa x reader

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dreamiesdotcom · 4 years

Text

of inked pages and adventures | n.jm

Summary: Jaemin plays rock-paper-scissors, loses, ends up being dared to spend one boring hour every day in a boring library, and finds love in a person who's spent more time behind a book than under the Sun.

Word Count: 1975

a/n: so I tried to give y'all a fic with a happy ending bc some people yelled at me after slow akshdjdj

Of course, as to most of Jaemin's life-changing decisions, it starts with losing rock-paper-scissors, a dare, and Lee Donghyuck.

The second rule to life is to never listen to Donghyuck sober. Renjun kinds of disagrees with that, but in his defense, listening to sober Hyuck got him a boyfriend, after all — but in Jaemin's case, it's only given him headaches and careless adrenaline. Jaemin stands true to his words: the second rule to life is to never listen to Donghyuck sober. The first rule is to never listen to him drunk.

Everybody knows how terrible some people are at following such rules, and unfortunately, Jaemin is one of those people. Right now, he momentarily hates that.

It's nothing wild, per se, just strange — normally, the dares are either risking your life, reputation, or morals. Today, they've chosen for him to suffer; "Go and read books for at least an hour in the library. You can't fall asleep."

So here he is, standing in this dimly lit room full of books. He takes one of them blindly, dragging himself to a table in the farthest corner, and doesn't realize it yet that someone is already sitting there. You looked at him with an exhausted gaze, but as your eyes catch at the book's cover, they quickly brim with life.

"Psychology? Interesting."

"What?" he says, pouting a little, used to talking to people. Normally, it would make most people melt — your still expression doesn't change, so he tries a joke. "A handsome guy can't read psychology now?"

It doesn't work, but the barest hints of a smirk tugs at the sides of your lips, and you shake your head as if to say no.

"It's not everyday a cute boy reads the same books as I do."

Red stains his cheeks and in his panic, he keeps his eyes on his book. He feels distracted, kind of heady, a little lost; butterflies seem to soar in his stomach, a feeling he's only ever caused, not experienced. It sucks for him that he doesn't know what to do about it — because what do you do when you've met someone for the first time, and they told you such things like that, and your stupid heart won't calm the fuck down?

What kind of first meeting, right?

The first week was nothing compared to the first day. He learned to stay comfortable with this kind of silence, the type that's somber and kind of lonely; the one that makes whispers reverberate inside the room, almost haunted. He's grown familiar with some books, be it the ones that smell like fresh paper and ink or the musky ones with sweet undertones, both scents lingering around the room.

He learned how to exist in silence. For days, surely, he missed the noise even if the loss was just for an hour, being used to Donghyuck chattering the time away and Renjun calling him out on it. The quarrels were always there, and as much as back then, all he wanted was for it to stop, right now he wants nothing but for someone to speak.

But as days pass by, he starts to see its charm. He starts to grow fond of the small talks. More specifically, he starts to get used to the way all the words that needed to be said are laid out like exposed cards, no guessing of intentions or games. They're just words that mean exactly as they should, and that's all that Jaemin needs. Certainty. Assurance. Truth.

He looks up from his books, scanning the cover of yours. "You got a classic now?"

"Exams," you say, shoulders rising slightly. Your eyes don't lift from the sentences, but he's certain you've stopped reading. Only then does he notice the heaviness in your eyes, the invisible wall you've put up around yourself against everybody else.

"Shouldn't you be reviewing by this time?"

"No."

Amusement fills his gut, and he shakes his head a little. You go back to reading and he tries to do the same as well, but for a reason or two, he couldn't focus — under the warm library lights and beside the strange person he's shared counted words with, he flourishes like a rose in a full-blown spring.

To be true, Jaemin no longer has to spend an hour in the library. It was a silly dare, and it's over, and he can go back to going to parties or hanging out with his best friends. He doesn't even really like reading; to be fair, they're interesting. He just doesn't feel them as hard as people like Renjun does.

He can go back to his old ways now, to the lively nights and tiring thrills. In fact, he could've done so weeks ago — but these days, as if a habit, his feet take him back to the street he spent a month getting to know, walking to a place he spent hours trying to understand. There was a dull something about the library that makes him breathe.

It's not the books. It was never the books — he's heard of these magical things, the way they bring you to different places and timelines, each time a different person with a different story. He's heard of the spark they have and the addicting scent of ink on paper. He's heard it all, and that's pretty much it — he never got to experience the entertainment they seemed to hold for a special kind of people. He's seen a glimpse of it, though, in the reflection of your eyes; the way they gloom when something bad happens, the way they shine when something good does. He finds bits of magic there, alongside the wanderlust glittering behind your lids.

And if the books couldn't take him to an adventure, your eyes do.

"Why're you staring?"

Why was he staring?

"Poetry, huh?" he hides his nervousness with a grin. He rests his chin on his palms, staring at you as if he was in a reverie because he is. "Cute."

You run your fingers at the spine of the book, tracing the delicate covers with equally as delicate fingers, a heavy sigh hanging on your lips. "They're mostly free verses about world tragedies."

He couldn't help but grimace, "Oh, damn. That's hardcore."

Something in the proud smirk on your smile screams rebelliously regal, and he somewhat struggles to look away.

The first time you two meet outside the library, it's at a convenience store and you were pretty much half-awake. Jaemin points an accusing finger at you, "What're you doing here?"

"Buying coffee."

"At 4am?"

"Dude, you're doing the same thing?" you ask, amused. "Just let me pass."

And just like everything with Jaemin, it begins with a straightforward question: "Wanna walk together?" You can't really pinpoint who asked first, just that you both wanted it, and that you both spent minutes walking in circles until you decided on going to the park. It's a silent trip, something he's not used to, but either way, it's something he liked. The emptiness of the streets, the gloaming of midnight.

By the time you've reached the park, it's already five a.m and what's left to the darkness is the lingering scent of nighttime, fleeting around the breeze and cold touches. The shiver this phantom gives you is shortlived, the sun starting to make itself known through first warm rays. The foggy image of the street ahead stains golden, and to watch the town rouse awake stirs in your gut something oddly specific yet unnamed.

You let out a dreamy sigh.

"I just want melodrama, is that too much to ask?" you kick at a rock. "Can't a person just run in an empty hallway looking fancy as hell? Can't a person just scream angrily at the world as they hold their dying lover in their arms?"

Jaemin momentarily chokes on his coffee, eyes widening in horror. "Can't a person just what?!"

You laugh, a pleasant sound comparable to tinkling bells you'd probably hear when you enter a fantasy land. It's not a delicate laugh, nor is it a careless one; it's just a laugh, beautiful even if it's obvious that you didn't let your guards down. His heart swells in adoration.

###

Jaemin doesn't go to the library after that morning.

He's heard of the different ways some people fall in love; his friends didn't do it much, but whenever they do, it had been interesting. Donghyuck only experienced it once before he declares he's given up on it; it was young love, the kind of love that's what you knew it to be at the moment. Jaemin calls it the first kind of love, the one that's hard to forget.

Renjun's was a difficult kind. It longed for people who didn't want to love anymore, hearts that had been closed to the world after it tried to break it. Jaemin understood it as the kind that waits — through the pain, after most everything.

Jeno's was the most simple. He didn't understand a single bit of what he tried to say, but Jaemin called it the most simple because it's the hardest to understand; the in denial kind, the complicated kind, the thing most people feel.

This one, he hasn't heard of. He hasn't been warned about it, either; it came without notice, no alarms. It came blindly, and it looked nothing like what he thought love should look like. Every wall he's built crumbles down, and he ignores the fact that you've known each other for short months and barely even knew each other's names. This one, he calls a tunnel. To him who's quite confused, it's as if a deep, dark, and chilly tunnel; maybe a museum of realizations and you come out of it feeling like something's not quite right of yourself.

Once he accepts it, he finds himself here again, in that same table. After his long absence, he expected some anger, he expected coldness. Instead what he gets is softness, an empty seat directly in front of yours, and a very emotional string of words: "It's been lonely without you."

Jaemin doesn't think much before he speaks and it's one of the flaws that he didn't really mind because all he's said are nice words. He kind of rethinks that thought as he lays both arms on the table, resting his cheek on one and them dreamily staring at you; "You're gonna be the death of me."

There's no books this time. Instead, papers scatter uselessly, notebooks opened and pens of different colors rest wherever. Somewhere inside his brain, he almost hears Renjun scoff at how he's blatantly not studying despite having everything he needs to review, but he doesn't mind that. He sets his eyes on you, focused on jotting down important terms and their meanings. Under a trick of the light, he sees angel wings spread behind you.

Your stare shifts to him, and he basks in the sunshine it never fails to make him feel. You glow like fantasy and the admiration surges straight to his head, skipping his logic and rushing for his feelings; he thinks of you as a person who was never meant to be human — such etherealness simply couldn't be meant to be mortal.

"Huh?"

"I kind of fell in love with you and I just won't stop falling," he mutters, eyes closed. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"Are you trying to ask me out on a date?" you laugh, and he shoots up, sitting straight. Red flushes his cheeks again, much like the first day, but this time he couldn't look away — your hand rests atop of his, warm against each other. "If so, then yes."

"What?"

"Take me on a date first." you say, slower this time. "and then hopefully, many more."

#nct dream #na jaemin #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream blurbs #nct dream timestamps #nct dream drabbles #nct dream scenarios #nct dream reactions #jaemin drabble #jaemin fluff #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #nct dream fluff #jaemin timestamps #bc i did him dirty with that angst on his bday

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timelordthirteen · 3 years

Text

In All Things 28/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)

Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.

Chapter Summary: Belle goes on her ride, has a bit of a revelation, and later Gold has one of his own. ;)

Notes: Takes place immediately after the previous chapter. Continue to enjoy the fluffy cuteness before I start drop angst bombs on things.

[AO3]

Belle waited until she was out of sight of Thornhill to bunch up her skirts and sling her leg over the saddle.

After a moment of adjustment, she settled the fabric and made certain her cloak covered her legs to the tops of her boots. Then she nudged Philippe into a canter, and let out a delighted laugh as the rush of air blew her hood back. The thick braid she’d used to constrain her hair flopped against her shoulder in rhythm with her horse’s hooves, loosening some of the strands on the sides of her head so that they blew against her cheeks as they rounded the corner of the road.

There was a gap in the line of trees, and she slowed Philippe back to a jog, directing him through it and onto the path that would take her around the eastern edge of the estate. It seemed to be a well traveled lane, but free of ruts from wagon wheels, unlike the main roads. She followed it into the trees, heading north along the far side of the property, marveling as she looked around at the snowy landscape. Patches of bold green and deep browns broke through here and there, and she could see open spots among the trees where in the spring there might be flowers or other plants. The edge of the path was littered with dead leaves and branches, but it was easy to imagine the thick growth that would narrow it come summer. There hadn’t been time to truly explore Thornhill and all its grounds, and while she knew the break in the weather wouldn’t hold for long, she looked forward to getting to know these woods and hills as well as she did the ones around Avonlea.

Philippe slowed to a walk, picking his way over the remains of a fallen tree, and Belle breathed deeply, drawing in the cold, crisp air, reveling in the calm and beauty of nature around her. There was a sharp crack to her left, and she held fast to the reins, keeping her horse steady as she looked in between the uneven rows of pines to spy a large stag. She pulled up and stopped Philippe, wanting to watch what the deer would do, and also wanting to make sure there was no one out hunting that she needed to worry about.

The deer dipped his head, rummaging along the ground for something, bulky antlers clipping against a few low branches. When he raised up again, he seemed to be looking straight at her, and Belle felt as though she could see, hear, and feel everything. She took a slow breath as she watched the animal look one way and then the other, catching the scent of wet earth and pine. A light breeze crept up the large sleeves of her cloak, raising goosebumps on her arms, as somewhere nearby a creek bubbled and rolled along.

The stag looked at her again, holding for a long moment, until he suddenly flinched and bounded off through the brush, disappearing into the shadowed depths of the trees. She let out the breath she’d been holding, and smiled widely as she leaned over Philippe’s neck, patting him gently for staying so still and calm. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she shook her head.

This was what it must feel like to be free, she thought.

She would have never had this with Gaston, nor if she had stayed in Avonlea, but here she did. She was making friends, and had people she cared about, Bae, Jefferson, Grace, and Cameron. She had a sense of purpose and a future where she would be in control of an estate and her life.

That was what her marriage had given her.

Feeling that if she dwelled on it too much, she might be overwhelmed, she nudged Philippe onward. A little further ahead the path split, with one track continuing north through the woods and the other cutting back west towards the house. Not knowing how much time had passed, but seeing that the sun was lower and the horizon was alight with an array of pink and orange, she chose to head back towards the house.

It curved up a slow sloping hill, giving a glimpse of a valley beyond the next line of trees. She wondered if it was the valley in which the village of Lamton sat, and smiled as she thought about riding Philippe there to visit everyone who had been at the solstice ball. It would be so nice to spend the long summer afternoons in the company of friends, and to see what little shops and markets the area had to offer.

Soon they came out of the woods onto a wider path covered with the same fine gravel as the front lane of Thornhill. In the distance she could see a small building set back from the lane, and, curious, she tugged Philippe in that direction. The building became a cottage as they drew closer, with a fence that ran around the front and one side, marking off what looked like a garden of some kind, though one plot was all tall, bare trees instead of the remains of winter vegetables.

“Hello there?” came a loud, gruff voice.

“Hello!” Belle called back.

She stopped on the path at the spot where a dirt walkway from the cottage door met the gravel. A short, stocky man came over from the side of the house where a large stump was set next to a wood pile.

“No one ever comes down here to visit me.”

“Leroy?” she asked, shielding her eyes from the setting sun with her hand.

“Lady Gold,” he gasped, halting midway down the walkway to give her an awkward bow. He was holding an axe off to one side. “Forgive me, I didn’t know it was you.”

Belle shifted on the saddle until her right leg was pulled up and she was sitting properly again. “No need to be sorry. I hadn’t planned on interrupting your wood chopping.”

He shrugged and came closer. “I could use the break anyway, m’lady.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Please, call me Belle.”

Leroy gave her a small, crooked grin. “Then good afternoon, Belle.”

“Good afternoon,” she echoed. “Though not for much longer I’m afraid.”

He nodded. “Indeed. What are you doing out this way?”

“Oh, I just went for a little ride on my friend, Philippe.”

“Hello, Philippe.”

The horse whinnied and Belle laughed. “Do you live here, Leroy?’

“Yes, ma’am. This was the original farm house before the estate was built. When I started tending the gardens, Ms. Potts was always hollering at me for tracking mud and leaves into the house.”

Belle smiled. “That sounds like her.”

“Gold got tired of it, so now I live here.” She frowned, and it was Leroy’s turn to laugh. “It was my idea, actually. I told Ms. Potts that I couldn’t track mud on her floors if I didn’t walk on them.”

“Everyone’s happy then,” she replied., ginning. “And is that your garden?”

He beamed at her. “Yes ma’am. You should come see it in the summer. I have some apple trees that should finally be old enough to produce something this year.”

Her eyes went wide. “An orchard?”

“Hardly enough to call an orchard now,” he said. “But maybe someday.”

She smiled again, somewhat wistful for the rows of trees back in Avonlea. “I will definitely return, now that I know where you find you.”

“M’Lady.” He gave her another smile and a half bow. “Would you - could you tell your maid Astrid that I, um, send my regards?”

Belle bit her lip in amusement and nodded. “I certainly will. Good day, Leroy.”

He waved as she rode off, pushing Philippe back into a quick trot. The sun was nearly set, with only a dark pink glow to light the way, and she was anxious to be back at the house before it was completely gone. Fortunately, it took only a few minutes to see the wall of the gardens and Thornhill beyond it. A warm yellow light shone from the windows, and she smiled as Philippe made his way along the gravel path.

Having left Philippe in the stables, with promises to see him tomorrow and bring carrots, Belle entered the house through the front door. She left her cloak on the round table in the foyer along with her gloves, and headed straight upstairs to her room where Astrid was waiting.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re back,” said Astrid, hurrying over to Belle’s side. “It kept getting darker and darker outside, and I was afraid you’d gotten lost.”

Belle waved a hand. “I am perfectly fine, and now I know my way around one of the trails. The woods are so beautiful here, so many pine trees, and I think there’s a little river not too far off.”

Astrid could hear the pleasure in Belle’s voice and smiled. “I’m glad you were with Philippe at least.”

Belle let out a happy sigh as she sat down on the bench at the end of her bed. “Yes. I’m so glad to have him here. I’ve missed riding.”

Astrid knelt down to help her take off her riding boots. “Well, I have everything ready for you to wash up and change before supper. I laid out your favorite blue dress.”

“Oh,” she said, looking towards the bedroom door, “um, just help me get these boots off so I can put my slippers on. I have something to do before I change.”

Astrid tugged the first boot off, falling back on her heels, and then looked up at Belle. “Oh, alright.”

Together they got the second boot off as well, and then Belle wiggled her feet into a pair of soft leather slippers. She usually wore them around her rooms in the evening after her bath, but she only needed a few minutes to find her husband.

Gold was in his study, a room which she had never been in before, and she hesitated before knocking, unsure if he would be annoyed at having his work interrupted. He called out a second later, and she pushed open the door.

“Belle.”

She smiled at the soft surprise in his voice. “Were you expecting someone else?”

Gold shook his head and pushed back from his desk. “No. Jefferson and Bae are usually the only ones who disturb me here.”

“Oh,” she said, stepping back into the doorway. “I can come back later if -”

He had already covered half the distance between them when he reached towards her. “No, no, come in, please. You are always welcome.”

“Even if I’m interrupting your work?”

He waved his hand. “Of course, nothing that can’t wait. How was your ride?”

Belle smiled widely. “It was wonderful!” She came towards him, and then took hold of his hand, raising it to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it as had become their habit. “Thank you, so much.”

He gave her fingers a squeeze and shook his head again. “You have already thanked me.”

Then she took both of his hands in hers, bringing them against her chest. “Then you must allow me to do it again.”

Gold chuckled. “As my lady wishes.”

Her eyes met his and held for a long moment before she pushed up on her toes and touched her lips to his cheek. It was brief and impulsive, she knew that, but she felt she could take the liberty as she tried to convey all that she had come to understand on her ride and all that she was grateful for.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her nose brushing his jaw as she dropped back on her heels.

He swallowed hard and freed one of his hands, reaching up to brush a few strands of loose hair back from her forehead. “You’re, um, you’re very welcome. I should have done it sooner.”

Belle gave him another smile. “You did it at just the right time, I think.”

His lips curved crookedly, the little lines at the corners of his eyes showing more prominently, and she felt - something. It was a contentment, perhaps, with her situation in life, and despite what was coming for them in the next week, there was a lightness as well.

She stepped back and let go of his hand, brushing her palms over her skirts. “I need to wash up before dinner,” she said. “I’ll see you later?”

He gave her a small bow, still smiling. “Of course.”

As she turned to go, she spied something odd in the corner to the left of the fireplace. She moved closer to it, and then looked back over her shoulder at her husband. “Is that - is that a spinning wheel?”

Gold’s face shifted into an expression she couldn’t place, and he nodded. “Yes.”

Belle bit her lip and looked back at the wheel. It was a dark wood with a horizontal brass flyer and bobbin, that was at least a quarter full, and a brass plate on the treadle. On the floor next to it was a woven basket of carded wool.

“Do you - spin?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” came Gold’s soft reply. “Sometimes. It - it helps me think.”

There was something about the machine that intrigued her. It was obviously well cared for and used, and kept in a place where few would see it, as everyone seemed to know not to bother the lord of the estate when he was in his study. Everyone except those who were closest to him. Did that include her now too, she wondered?

There were questions on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them down. “I, um, I’ll leave you be,” she managed, pulling herself away from the curiosity of the spinning wheel and towards the door. She looked back at him one last time to find him standing near the wheel, in a spot that would have been just behind her, his eyes fixed on it. It seemed she hadn’t noticed him coming closer. “Thank you again.”

Gold met her gaze and nodded. “It’s no matter.”

Belle put the spinning wheel out of her mind as she cleaned up and dressed for dinner, by delivering Leroy’s greeting to Astrid.

Astrid blushed furiously and couldn’t meet her eyes for fully five minutes, which amused Belle to no end. She had suspected at the ball, that Astrid and Leroy had established some sort of friendship, and that there might be more to it than either of them was letting on. Now she had evidence of it, and was delighted.

“So,” Belle said as she sat down on the stool at her vanity, “do you - like - Leroy?”

Astrid paused, hairpin hovering over the back of Belle’s head, and met her eyes in the mirror, pink faced and wide eyed. “I, um, I - I might, yes.”

Belle smiled at her. “He seems to like you.”

Another fierce blush made her wonder if her maid was going to turn completely red by the end of the evening.

“Yes, he - he does,” Astrid replied, slipping the pin into Belle’s hair and busying herself with combing out the curls beneath it. “But I - I’m not sure how much I - I like him yet.”

“I think it’s very sweet,” Belle offered, fighting to hold back the almost manic grin that wanted to break out on her face.

Astrid finding love would please her greatly. She wanted nothing but happiness for the person who had been her closest friend for so many years, who had seen her through the worst moments, and into what she hoped would be some of the best.

“Do - do you...like Lord Gold?” Astrid asked, setting the comb aside to reach for another pin.

Belle looked up and caught Astrid’s earnest gaze in the mirror. “Well, I - I suppose I do, but...it’s not -” She took a breath and turned on the stool to face Astrid. “It’s not the way you like Leroy.”

Astrid stopped, the hairpin dangling between her fingers, and gave Belle an odd look. “How are they different?”

Belle frowned.

“Forgive me,” Astrid continued, “I know you said that the two of you have an arrangement, and that it’s - it’s not perhaps a traditional marriage, but -”

She stopped and clamped her mouth shut, and Belle stood. She plucked the hairpin from Astrid’s hand and set it on the vanity before taking her friend’s hands in hers. “You know you must always say what you feel, Astrid. To me.”

Astrid worried her lip for a moment and then sighed. “I’m just - I’m confused because I - I can see how you are with each other - how Lord Gold respects you and - and how you sometimes hold hands, and today you hugged him in front of everyone and -and, well, it seems like the kind of arrangement I might want for myself.”

“I see. Thank you for being honest with me.”

Belle pondered Astrid’s words as they went about dressing her in her favorite blue dress. She hadn’t considered how it must look to others to see these interactions between her and her husband, how what was simply amiable sweetness between two friends could be viewed in another light by those who didn’t know the real reasons why they were married. It didn’t concern her so much what others felt about her relationship with Cameron, but what she might feel about it. There was a genuine fondness there when she thought of him, and a kind of quiet pleasure in the time they spent together, but there was something else as well, something that she wasn’t sure she understood yet. It wasn’t love; she was not so young and naïve as to conflate her feelings in that way, but it unsettled her that she couldn’t name it.

Perhaps it would resolve when they had faced their mutual enemies and returned from the palace. Perhaps it was nothing more than her nerves getting the better of her again. With a sigh, she thanked Astrid, and headed downstairs for dinner.

The fire snapped sharply, its glow the only light in the room.

Gold’s foot moved steadily, the loud crack from the hearth failing to make the gentle whir of the wheel falter even the slightest. He didn’t need much light for spinning, not after so many years. His good leg could still keep the pace for hours if needed, and the slip of the wool through his fingers told him whether it needed more or less tension easier than seeing the fiber it produced.

He hadn’t been prepared for Belle asking if he could spin. It was the only part of his past that he had held on to, and that made it special, even sacred in a way. No one who hadn’t lived part of it with him knew, and he worried that in telling her about it he might damage the happy companionship they had built in some way, that it might alter her good opinion of him.

There were other things, however, that would ruin the peace he had finally found for himself far more than telling his wife how he came to spin.

Sighing, he leaned over and picked up another clump of roving, twisting and feeding it into the strand that was already forming, keeping the wheel turning all the while. The muscle memory was something he never seemed to lose, so long as he didn’t think too hard about it. His body remembered the long nights, the cold of the tiny cottage, the winds that blew so hard they whooshed down the chimney and threatened to snuff out every bit of warmth and comfort.

Gold shivered and let his eyes drift to the fire, still going strong and in no danger of being blown out. The golden glow reminded him of how the dining hall had looked on the solstice, how it reflected off of the decorations, and made Belle’s dress shimmer as though it were made of magic.

His mind wandered easily back to that moment when she put her hand in his, when he led her out in front of everyone, and they danced around the room. Though he was nervous to attempt spinning her, her laughter had been the most delightful sound he’d ever heard, and it had the desired effect of bringing her out of her head and back into the moment. From there it had been relaxed and easy, as if they did this very often, as if holding her in his arms was a common occurrence.

You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.

He heard her breath catch at his words, and felt the slight shift in her body. She seemed on the verge of a reply, when the music ended, the horns softly fading as the last notes were played out on the violin. They stopped in nearly the same spot as they started, and the second her eyes met his he had the most ridiculous impulse. She let him do it, let him lean her back just a little, her back arching slightly against his arm, pressing her chest forward. He held her firmly, and sensed that she trusted he wouldn’t let her fall.

It was no more than a second, a blink, a crack of the fire that he held her, but he couldn’t breathe as he pulled her upright again. Her hand was still holding his, the other on his arm to steady herself, but the motion had pulled her close, almost against his body. She looked up, her eyes wide and bright and the most brilliant blue, and his mouth started to gape open. Her expression was soft but surprised, and he could feel a strange dizziness wash over him as though they were still twirling around the room. She blinked, and then her gaze darted down to his mouth. He raised their joined hands, nudging the edge of her chin until her eyes were looking into his again, and then he caught it - the slight shift, the light gasp, the tensing of her hand against his arm as if she were trying to pull him closer.

Her breath ghosted over his lips a second before he pressed them firmly to hers, and -

The fire popped and Gold’s hand jerked, yanking on the end of the wool and pulling it too thin. The strand of yarn snapped, whipping passed the wheel as its rhythm stuttered. The treadle under his foot squeaked as he released the pressure too quickly, and the yarn went flipping round and round over the bobbin, unraveling on the other side as it slowed.

He huffed and shook his head, startled by the direction his little reminiscence had taken. Tugging the frayed end back towards him, he held it between his fingers and glared at it before dropping it to the floor. The small clock on the mantle chimed, and he looked up to see it was well passed when he should have been asleep.

With another shake of his head, he pushed to his feet and moved over to the fireplace. A small bit of glowing ash lay on the edge of the hearth which he stamped out with the toe of his boot. After replacing the screen, and throwing one last glower at the wheel, he shuffled off to bed.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #belle x mr. gold #arranged marriage au #in all things #my rumbelle fic #fic

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lorelylantana · 3 years

Text

Savageries of the Heart Chapter 5: Homecoming

First-Previous-Next

Ao3

Chapter rating: T Overall Rating: E

“How did this happen?” she asked, setting the slate down to look at her husband. He looked sheepish.

“It didn’t happen overnight,” Link explained, “After the Sheikah were banished from the Kingdom of Hyrule they came to us for protection after their own military forces were lost, and the other races opted for their own independence. That much is true, and it was for centuries after. The Sheikah don’t really have a desire for leading outside of their own people, so as long as the Zonai reinforced their borders and funded their research they were content to share the fruits of their knowledge.

“We’ve always believed in extending a hand in aid where we could, so on the occasions that the other races reached out for help, we’ve been the first to respond. We built the dam in Zora’s domain and we killed the Lynels haunting the Rito snowfields. When the Gerudo canyon collapsed we’re the ones that cleared the rubble to let them travel safely once again. Bit by bit the other races began to see the benefits of being a unified nation again, so we expanded the railways, the Sheikah streamlined communications, new Wardens were named, and we came whole again.”

“Not completely,” Zelda interjected, oddly defensive. She felt Noodle’s nose bump into her chin, perhaps in response to her racing pulse.

“Not completely,” Link agreed, “But it was a king on Hylia’s throne that fractured the continent in the first place, and the Sheikah have long memories. Even with the countless records locked away, they knew it wasn’t the first time they had been made to vacate Hyrule, so they advised us to keep the royal family in the dark and wait.”

“For what?” Zelda asked. He looked in her eyes.

“For the right Queen.”

Fat chance of that one, considering her uncle sat on the throne and she was the Hollow Daughter of Hylia.

“Tell me more about the Wardens,” Zelda said, uncomfortable at the implied expectation.

Link scooted over, taking the slate in his hand he fiddled with the map settings until Zelda watched the borders she was familiar with reappear. Noodle uncoiled from her spot on Zelda’s wrist to sniff at the screen, her snout tapping on the small region north of Mount Lanayru, if that was indeed it’s name and not another lie told to her people. A box appeared with white text.

The Wellspring

Warden: Dorephan [Contact]

Rising Warden: Mipha [Contact]

“Each region is governed by a Warden,” Link explained, his breath tickling her ear and his arm slipping around her waist, “Dorephan is the current Warden of the Wellspring, but he gave his notice of retirement last year, so Mipha, his daughter is carrying out the majority of his duties until she slays a great beast and takes over his position completely.”

Zelda tapped the harbor their icon was inching towards, highlighting the region that Zelda originally thought to be the entire Zonai nation.

Dragonlands

Warden: Link

Rising Mother: Zelda Lana Hyrule [Contact]

Zelda noticed that the word ‘contact’ was written in green. Curious, she tapped it, expecting the screen to change. Instead there was a chiming from her headdress. Zelda tensed up. Link gave a little chuckle before pinching her translator between his fingers for a moment.

“What was that?” Zelda asked, but he only held up his finger again, shooting her a wink as he got up and left the the observation deck

“Can you hear me?”

Zelda flinched, startled. Her husband’s voice had replaced the mechanical words from her translator.

“Yes,” she responded, walking to the window to see her husband walking into view below. In her ear she could hear the sea breeze until his voice returned.

“A secondary function, though a recent one,” Link said, waving up at her.

Zelda looked at the slate again.

“Why can’t I call you?” she asked, noting the option to contact didn’t appear next to her husband’s name.

“That’s my personal slate, it would be like writing a letter to myself.”

He began walking up the stairs, and she could hear his footsteps, which was a bit disorienting without a stair in sight. They spent the rest of the trip eating their lunch while Link explained the basic functions of a Sheikah Slate. Zelda pressed an icon with a small blue circle, and a glowing blue orb appeared in her hands. Link mumbled something in Zonai that the Zelda’s translator interpreted as a string of curse words that had her ears burning. Link took the orb from her hands, chucked it through a window he’d opened before pressing the ‘cancel’ button right next to the one labeled ‘detonate’.

“That was an explosive,” he said by way of explanation. Zelda’s eyes widened.

“Does everyone else on the continent have access to explosives?” she asked, alarmed. Link shook his head with a laugh.

“Farore above, no. The slates given to Wardens and have greater capabilities than most citizens’. Standard issue slates are much more limited. Identification, communications, and finances only.”

“What does it mean by ‘Rising Mother?” Zelda asked, now holding the slate at arm’s length.

“Being my wife makes you the Mother of the Dragonlands, but since you haven’t officially accepted the title you’re listed as ‘Rising’.”

“How do I accept it?” she asked, Link smiled, bright and relieved.

“I’ll show you when we get home.”

She liked that sentence because of the assumption. There was a warm undertone to the flippant reminder that she had a home here. She was in a foreign country that wasn’t at all like she imagined, but she had a place set aside for her. It was enough to banish the dissatisfaction of her question going unanswered and allowed her to walk hand in hand with her husband with a spring in her step. As they descended onto the dock, she couldn’t help but notice that it was pretty deserted, though she did see a large building at the top of a large cliff. Link led them down into the sand. They came across a strange platform on the ground before Link placed his palm on a screen covered pedestal. After fiddling with the screen Link took out a vial of simmering red liquid she recognized as an elixir and pressed it into her hand. She drank it, savoring the kick that she recognized as a spicy elixir. Link watched as she swallowed it.

“How did I do?” he asked, brow raised. She took another sip.

“It’s a tad overdone,” she admitted, “but effective,”

He nodded, satisfied with her answer. She shook out her limbs, the heat spreading to her fingers and toes like a fever.

“It’s a little warm for a spicy elixir, isn’t it?” she asked, quizzical. He winked at her, resting a palm against the blank screen. After a blue line ran up and down the pedestal chimed and the world faded away.

The world returned in slices, descending bit by bit to create a small alcove tucked in the corner of a much larger room filled with plush chairs and couches facing a strange black rectangle set upon a table. Despite the questions burning through her mind, she found herself transfixed by the opposite wall. Rather than the intricate stonework that made up the majority of the room, the wall they walked along had an almost translucent, iridescent quality to it, orange light shining through that mimicked the sunset outside. She pressed a hand to it and dragged her palm along its smooth, chilled surface, her breath coming out in clouds in front of her. Link showed her a large glass box filled with vegetation and a lamp which, in a notable departure from the standard blue light fixtures around the room, shone with a warm yellow light.

“For Noodle,” Link said by way of explanation, opening the box.

Zelda beamed from ear to ear, reaching into the terrarium to let the serpent climb onto one of the winding branches. She could have sworn she saw some of the blue scales glow, but it was probably a trick of the light.

“Say Noodle again,” she said, tucking her hand into his elbow.

“Why?”

“Because it sounds cute in your accent,” she admitted, cheeks flushing slightly.

He gave her a quizzical look but nonetheless obliged her, “Noodle.”

She giggled, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder as they walked down the hall to a larger, yet somehow more intimate room.

Zelda stepped forward and turned to examine their bedroom. The walls were carved in hundreds of illustrations of plant and animal life alike, each shape crafted with a myriad of stones that must have been gathered from all corners of Hyrule. A fox made from the rich Eldin rock, wolves shaped from the cool blue of Upland Zora, and pigeons carved from Necluda stone. The lush scenes of the wild were dominated by sprawling depictions of dragons lording over it all. She recognized the serpent she glimpsed on their wedding day coiled protectively over their bed which, while lower to the floor than her own, was far wider than any bed she’d ever scene and stacked with silks and cushions.

After the stress of the day, Zelda was ready to lie down, but her husband had other ideas, taking her hand and pulling her to the corner on her left, where another dragon curled around a bath that looked far too big for just the two of them. Nevertheless, Zelda followed him gratefully, glad that at least one of her preconceived notions of the Zonai held true.

Owlan had told her the Zonai viewed baths an intimate affair, which she had understood. The difference lay in that married couples were supposed to bathe together, and often. This practice was apparently so common that newlyweds were not considered fully united until they blessed their marital home with a bath. Thus, when Link’s hands began to unravel the cloth around her chest, she made no comment, only moving to undo his belt.

When they were both stripped down they stepped over the lip of the massive tub. Link took the lead as the welcoming spouse, turning her around so he could run his hands down her back. Despite the spicy elixir having a good deal of time before it wore off, the water felt cool. Not enough to feel uncomfortable, but impossible to ignore. If her elixir couldn’t hold off the chill, she wondered how frigid it must be. Zelda was dissuaded from asking questions by Link’s touch, warm and steady as they started to rub soap into her back. She sighed and felt her head roll to one side. Zelda let her gaze rest on the luminescent stone of the second dragon. Unlike Farosh, the horn of this creature almost resembled a crown, spikes pointing away from the creature’s face.

“I saw Farosh on our wedding day,” Zelda said idly, her shoulders easing under his touch. He hummed and started to work on her arms.

“The gods approve of our marriage.”

This intimacy in the water was softer than what they shared in their honeymoon, but no less potent. Perhaps this gentle caress was one of the unsung sides of love, often overlooked for that wildfire lust that overtook them so many times. And yet, as Zelda grew warmer under his ministrations a deep sense of peace took root, easing away the emotional strain of the day’s revelations. For all the deceit revealed to her, his growing affection for her felt genuine.

Link pulled her to rest against his chest so he could reach around to her stomach. When she relaxed and let her arms rest back in the water it became clear that the heat wasn’t just from his embrace but from the bath, once so cold it broke through her elixir’s protection.

“What happened to the water?” she asked, dragging a hand through the bathwater. It was heated as a hot spring. “Zonai leaders have always drawn strength from the land, wielding magic both consciously and instinctively.” he explained, washing and rinsing her hair, “This flow is strongest in the springs and other sacred sights, giving us enough protection to render even the harshest weather mild.”

Link turned her around to look her in the eyes as he took her leg into his lap, “We swore to each other before our people,” he explained, massaging her calf as he spoke, “we’ve proven this union to one another in our bed. But only here, alone in holy water atop a sacred mountain, do we verify our marriage before the gods. You are Mother of the Dragonlands, and now all the spirits watching over us recognize you as such, and give their power freely.”

Zelda smiled, security pulsing steady in her chest. The feeling was compounded by small, swirling clusters of energy she could now feel brushing against her skin and shielding her from the unrelenting cold of her new home. After pressing a quick kiss to his lips she urged him to turn around. Relishing in the heated water, she took the cloth from the lip of the tub and lathered it in soap so she could start to scrub his back and arms. She traced some of the paint on his bicep before wiping it off.

“What do the markings mean?” she asked. She had watched him apply the paint several times since their wedding, though never as much as he did the night itself.

“It’s less about design and more about location,” he answered, “The paint makes us stronger. We use it to stimulate the muscles we use most in battle.”

She rubbed his other arm clean before moving on to his chest. He smiled lazily, resting his hands on her hips, his thumbs circling idly.

“How’s it made?”

“I’ll send you the recipe.”

Zelda raised a brow, “Just one?”

“The only one that works.”

Now that was an intriguing prospect. Alas, it would have to wait for another day, as Zelda started to yawn when washing his legs and feet and her eyes had started to close on their own accord when they dried off on the steps leading up to the tub. She heard Link give a low chuckle as he pulled the towel from her hands and began to rub the moisture out of her hair, massaging her scalp in the process. His touch put her at so much ease that she ended up dozing off with her face resting against his thigh. Zelda only stirred when he did, sliding off the lip of the tub to take her in his arms. She didn’t open her eyes when she was rocked in his arms as he crossed the room. She felt the cool, smooth sheet covering the bed before it dipped to accommodate her husband’s weight. Zelda reached for him blindly and was rewarded by his arms wrapping behind her back, pressing their bare chests together. She felt Link’s lips on her forehead.

“Goodnight,” he whispered into her hair. She nuzzled his shoulder and kissed what felt like his collarbone.

“Goodnight.”

#zonai link #zonai zelink #zelink #botw zelink #arranged marriage au #botw link #botw zelda

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silverfootstepswrites · 3 years

Text

Eden: BLEACH [2]

ZERO / BLEACH (here) / TWIST / REVERSE / DYE / RED

++++

One lives in the hope of becoming a memory. - Antonio Porchia

++++

There was a knock on the open door. Sakura scowled before she even looked up.

“Go away.”

“You sound more and more like him with every day.”

Sakura finally lifted her head from the ancient manuscript. She lowered her magnifying glass.

“Headmaster,” she greeted Hashirama. The older man, who hadn’t aged a single day since she had first met him, smiled in return. He lingered in the doorway, well aware of the fact that she hadn’t actually invited him inside. She just blinked at him.

Hashirama sighed.

“You’re really just like him. I wanted to let you know that those spell books you requested last month are finally here,” he informed her. And then his eyes drifting to the pile sitting on her desk. “Oh… you already got them?”

Sakura paused. The truth was that she recalled in her long nightmare several days ago that these books would arrive. Just to be sure, she had popped into the library to check. And there they were. Labelled with her name and her department.

It was unsettling- if that was the right word for a situation like this.

Coincidences happened all the time. But was it a coincidence if so many of them piled up at once like this?

“How goes the research?” Hashirama then asked.

In response, Sakura extended her hand. She imagined the molecules in the air gathering into a solid surface. The shield expanded, shoving Hashirama all the way out the door. Hashirama examined the shimmering surface of the shield. When he poked it, static electricity crackled off the outside. He jerked his hand back.

“That’s a nice touch,” he commended. And then he waved his hand. “Alright. I get the hint. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Thank you,” Sakura replied, already turning back to her reading.

Madara cackled when Sakura recounted the encounter to him that night.

“Good. Keep that geezer far away from you,” Madara agreed, crunching a pistachio between his back molars.

Sakura thought for a moment. She turned away from the stove for a moment. It was her turn to cook dinner. “You’re no spring chicken yourself, Papa,” she reminded him. Madara frowned at her.

Sakura paused. She lowered her spatula.

“Sorry, was that too much?” she asked.

But Madara only smirked, leaning against the counter. He ruffled her hair.

“Don’t worry about that kind of crap, kid. We’re always fine,” he assured her. And then he pointed at the pan. Sakura went back to stirring the garlic before it could burn.

“Quit snacking on those. You’ll ruin your appetite,” Sakura told him. She heard him chuckle.

“Are you my grandmother? Quit nagging.” And then he crunched through another pistachio, grinding it to pieces between his teeth.

Later that night, Sakura laid on her bed, phone pressed to her ear.

“Are you sure you won’t come? The guys are cute. I promise,” Ino pleaded one last time. And then she added: “Sorry. It’s just… I haven’t seen you in forever. I miss you.”

And Sakura smiled at the ceiling.

“Yeah. I’ll sit this one out, Ino. I’m not feeling it,” Sakura answered. She heard Ino sigh.

Before Ino could worry too much, Sakura then said: “I do appreciate the invites, Ino. I know you’re just thinking about me. I’ll be at the next one.”

Ino’s tone brightened. “Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”

“Take pictures so I can see them later.”

“Yeah yeah. I’ll drop by the shop?”

“Yeah.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Letting out a sigh, Sakura dropped the phone and rolled onto her side. She stretched her arms over her head. As she lay there, she could hear footsteps downstairs. She thought for a moment. And then her mouth opened.

“Papa,” she called.

No response.

She considered getting up, and then she extended her left arm. Pointing, she flicked her wrist as she called him again.

This time, the “Papa” traveled down the stairs, spreading through the third floor like mist. She could feel the way the word surged ahead, knocking walls and doors, spreading until she was sure that it could be heard everywhere.

There was a pause. And then she felt Madara’s magic wash over her in a wave. Soft. Just a little warm- as were the spells of most fire affinity casters.

What.

I’m bored.

There was a drawn-out exhale. Madara trudged up the stairs, his glasses dangling from the chain around his neck. He stood in the doorway, hand on his hip.

“What do you want me to do about that?” he demanded.

Sakura tilted her head to look at him.

“Dunno. I wanna eat something.”

Madara squinted at her. “We had dinner.”

Sakura stared right back at him.

He pushed off the doorway, already walking out of the room.

“You want toast?”

“With butter and jam,” she called after him. Hugging a pillow to her chest, she fell back on the bed again.

“Brat,” he grumbled, stomping down the stairs.

Sakura laughed.

They stood at the counter eating together, barefoot, scolding each other for getting crumbs everywhere.

Sakura loved the way the butter melted in her mouth, mixing with the sweet taste of strawberries. Madara even cut the toast into triangles, just the way she liked, even though she had never once asked him to.

It struck her, staring out the kitchen window, how fortunate she was. The people who had abandoned her had never written or called. She was sure that the Senju Institute and Madara knew of some way to get in touch with them. But she didn’t want to know.

Madara had taught her when everyone else said there was something defective about her. He had given her a place to belong. And as all these thoughts swam around in her head, Sakura let her head fall against Madara’s arm.

“You know…”

Madara looked at her as he took a bite of his toast.

“I really like being here with you, Papa. I feel happy here,” she told him.

Madara stopped chewing. He looked away.

“Then stick around, kid. It’s not bad having you around too,” Madara replied, not meeting her eyes.

Sakura beamed. She didn’t have to say anything else. They finished eating their late-night snack together. Brushing crumbs off their face and licking jam from their fingers once they were done.

++++

On the days that she wasn’t working at the dream shop, Sakura was working on her own research. Her thesis was exploring how magical barriers and fields interact with dreams. If shields and charms were cast in the real world, would those protections extend to dreams? (No.) Could they be manipulated to work in dreams? (Maybe- she wasn’t sure yet.)

Her undergraduate studies in abjuration focused mostly on shields and banishment. Shisui had laughed when she announced her major to them one morning at the shop. As Itachi and Sasuke both punched his arms, he tried to explain that it was a good thing.

Of course you would want to protect people. That’s just like you.

Everyone in the Uchiha family agreed that Sakura’s shields had a kick to them. They didn’t just block. They fought back when attacked. One of her favorite shields was one that she liked to call The Urchin. It looked like any other shield- clear but shimmering faintly under the right light. If touched gently, it had no reaction. But if struck with force, thousands of spikes rose out of the surface to stab the threat.

For Sasuke, who favored evocation magic, Sakura’s shields were a great source of amusement as he tried to find ways to break them down with fireballs and bolts of lightning. And Sakura in turn would then work to fix those weaknesses to render his attacks harmless. Neither of them ever admitted it out loud, but their playful competition was what had probably driven both of them to excel in their studies during their undergrad years.

Itachi worked almost exclusively with illusions. His ability to blur illusions with reality made him a fearsome sparring partner. It was no surprise that he had graduated at the top of his class in record time. Even now, his old professors joked that Itachi had walked into the school and then walked out with his diplomas.

Shisui was the only one among them that hadn’t gone on to college. But that didn’t seem to bother anyone- especially not his parents. Because as soon as it was legal, Shisui was scouted to work with the city’s observatory to test how celestial bodies and their positions influenced casting. It was a new field that not many people were familiar with. Shisui had a tendency to pack his car with his telescope and spectrometer and drive off into the mountains whenever the skies were clear. If his frequent absences irritated Madara, he didn’t say anything.

With so many people around her who excelled at magic, it wasn’t hard to find someone to assist her with research on most days. Even her friends from school, Ino and Naruto, were usually around to lend a helping hand.

But Sakura liked it best when Madara was the one to help her with her experiments.

“Because I ask the least amount of stupid questions,” he guessed when she told him so.

They sat cross-legged in Sakura’s room in the dream world. Madara looked around at all the crystals that filled the tall shelves. She had recently extended the height of her room just to accommodate them all.

“No. You just… you’re good at knowing how to help. You’re kind of a natural, Papa,” Sakura replied.

Before Madara could touch any of the dreams, Sakura made a sweeping gesture with both her hands. The room around them dissolved into a gentle blue mist. And when it reformed, they were standing in what looked like the city park. There was even a swing creaking gently in the breeze nearby.

Madara was sitting on a boulder now. He patted the surface a few times, nodding approvingly.

“The texture’s pretty realistic. You’ve got a good eye for detail,” he commented.

Sakura took a moment to smile before she closed her eyes and gathered energy into her palms again. This time, when she swept her arms, the particles in the air began to vibrate, knitting together. Closer and closer, closing the gaps until they formed a standard shield.

Madara picked up a small stone and tossed it at the shield. It bounced off.

“Well. Looks like it’s holding this time around.”

As he spoke, the smooth surface of the shield began to ripple. Like a soap bubble, it popped. Sakura’s arms fell to her sides. Her lips jutted out.

“Oh man, I thought I really had it this time,” she lamented.

But Madara just patted the empty spot beside him. Sakura made her way over. She climbed up on the boulder and plopped down beside him.

“I wonder why shields don’t work in dreams. It would be helpful for lots of people,” she grumbled. She pulled her knees up to her chest.

“Why’d you choose something so hard? No one’s ever managed to make abjuration magic last here. The dream world doesn’t follow the regular laws of nature,” Madara pointed out. And as if to drive the point home, he held up his pointer finger. A flame appeared at the tip. Only it was burning upside down.

Sakura copied him. She lowered the temperature of the magic until it turned a dull, almost brownish color. When she lowered her hand, the flame dissipated completely.

“There’s lots of people. Kids especially. Who feel scared. And maybe they didn’t have some weird artificer popping into their heads every night to make the nightmares go away,” she explained. When she met Madara’s eyes, he was smiling again. Sighing, he patted her head a couple times.

“You got a real heart of gold. You know that, right?” he commended. But the praise almost sounded a little sad.

Madara’s hand fell away.

“By the way, I wanted to ask.”

“Yeah, Papa?”

“You’ve been at home a lot lately. Something happen with your friends?”

It wasn’t like Madara to pry into her private matters. He hadn’t asked why she had started casting a barrier over their home every night before they went to bed. And he didn’t ask why she had suddenly started texting him every day while she was at work.

It was just a nightmare. One of countless ones she had dreamt over all these years. It still made her feel sick to remember the scene. So much blood.

She did feel guilty for not speaking to Gaara again. He hadn’t done anything wrong. But the image of him laying dead there next to Madara had felt too strange. Part of the reason she had chosen to minor in divination was because dreams and divination were often linked together. Dreams could be a warning of some events to come. And if Gaara was part of that ominous message, she didn’t want to involve herself with him in any way.

“Just been busy. Too tired to go out, mostly. Everything’s fine with my friends. Ino’s gonna drop by the shop tomorrow. I might get lunch with her,” Sakura replied, looking down at her hands.

They both looked up as they heard distant beeping.

“That’s your alarm,” Sakura told him, turning to Madara again.

He hadn’t aged a day since he had picked her up from the Senju Academy all those years ago. She knew that really talented casters who were constantly working with magic often lived much longer. Bathing in all that energy had a rejuvenating effect. She suspected that her aging would begin to slow soon too. It was rumored that Professor Tobirama and Professor Hashirama were centuries old- although no one would know from looking at their faces.

Madara nodded.

“See you soon, kid.”

He tapped her shoulder once before he dissolved into black mist.

When Sakura opened her eyes, she could hear the faucet running in the bathroom. Her phone was buzzing on her nightstand. She reached over to hit the snooze button. The faucet shut off.

“Papa,” she croaked half into her pillow.

There was a pause. When she pried one eye open, Madara was opening her bedroom door. There was a towel around his neck.

“Pancakes,” was all she mumbled.

Madara rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, Your Highness,” he complained, closing the door again.

++++

The peaceful days continued even as the weather grew cold. Snow fell on the city, but the inside of the dream shop stayed cozy thanks to an enchantment cast by Madara at the beginning of every winter.

Sakura didn’t really have to duck her head when she entered the store. But her cousins did. It was one of the few times when she was glad to be so much shorter.

She unwrapped her scarf and tossed it into the air. It hovered there. Waiting until she unzipped her coat and threw it too. Only then did the magic whisk them both away to hang on the coat rack.

“Morning,” Sasuke said from behind the counter.

“Hi. I’m freezing,” she replied. Nose red from the cold, Sakura rubbed her hands together.

“There’s still some coffee in the break room. Help yourself,” Sasuke told her. And when he began taking off his hoodie for her, Sakura waved his offer away.

When she approached, Sasuke turned the appointment book around so she could see the day’s schedule. Itachi was upstairs dealing with a client already. She didn’t have anything booked until after lunch today.

“Shisui?” she called.

“In storage,” came a muffled reply.

She found him digging through one of the shelves. To the side were rolled pieces of paper. She picked one up and opened it to find a star map.

“What’s this?”

Shisui’s head popped up.

“Ah. Weather looks real clear tomorrow. I’m gonna head out and get some readings.”

Sakura felt her knees buckle. She gripped the edge of the shelf as she remembered something else from that nightmare that had never faded from her mind.

“Shi.”

“Yeah?”

When she didn’t speak, Shisui straightened. Dusting off his shirt, he stepped toward her. When he saw the look on her face, he rushed the last few steps. He grasped her shoulders.

“Hey hey hey. What’s wrong?”

Sakura grabbed his forearms.

“Do you have to go?”

“What?”

“On your trip. Do you have to go?”

“Yeah, kid. Been planning this for a while. What’s wrong?” he said, slowly. He searched her face as he spoke. She hated the way his forehead wrinkled with concern. Hated even more the way Sasuke opened the door. Standing there with his fists held in front of him, as if getting ready to punch whatever had upset her.

“What’d you say, you turd?” Sasuke snapped. He shoved Shisui aside. He ducked to get a better look at Sakura’s expression.

“You don’t look so good. Let’s go sit down,” Sasuke suggested. He took her hand. Waited for her to slowly curl her fingers around his. As he guided her to the door, Itachi appeared. His face brightened as he spotted her.

“Hey. When’d you get here?” he greeted her.

The warmth in his voice made her burst into tears.

“What’d you two say to her?” Itachi immediately accused. He crossed the threshold to wrap his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. He patted her back as he went on with his scolding the others. “She’s tired enough as is without you two saying something stupid to her.”

“I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

“I just said I was going on a trip.”

Sakura bawled into Itachi’s shirt. She didn’t have the energy to care how stupid she must look. She needed to tell Shisui not to go. Not go away. Because what if that awful dream came true and he disappeared forever again? And then Itachi would go too. And to imagine the sorrow in Sasuke’s face hurt more than all those other things put together.

“Sasuke, go get her something to drink. Shisui, go get a blanket out of the back,” Itachi was ordering now. And then he lowered his voice.

“There there. Cry it out. You’ll feel better once you do,” Itachi murmured, patting her back again.

#eden #fanfiction #writing #uchisaku #haruno sakura

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