#usually for a project of this size I’d do it over a couple days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

this-is-krikkit · 2 months

Text

no more boops? have a fic instead!

rating: Mature relationships: Erwin Smith/Mike Zacharias, Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë

summary: Teleworking at Erwin's place grants Mike a front row seat to his boss honoring a stupid dare. Let's be honest, though: it has other perks.

additional tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, slightly kinky, Light BDSM, very light actually most of it is only mentioned, Based on a Tumblr Post, i gave Nanaba a family name for the narrative, i also gave her a couple heart attacks. also for the narrative!, Tumblr Prompt, Mike and Hange both wearing their boyfriends' shirts Challenge: complete, Office Romance

inspired by:

enjoy!!

“To conclude this meeting and another productive week, I’d like to have everyone’s attention for a few of our most pressing matters.”

Oh, he’s going to do it now, Mike realizes.

For the hundredth time in the last hour and a half, he has to check that both his microphone and camera are offline. He’s not usually so easily spooked about these things, but it’s one thing to want your privacy during a meeting with twenty people and the company’s CEO himself making a presentation, and it’s another to have to hide the fact that you’re teleworking from said CEO’s penthouse apartment every Friday because you’ve been secretly —Mike’s decided that drunkenly confessing to Nanaba a few weeks back doesn’t count— fucking each other for months now against all company guidelines.

He almost feels sorry for not warning his friend Hange, the only one besides Erwin and a few less highly ranked colleagues who’s currently got their camera on —and who is probably unaware of that fact, seeing how their crumpled shirt is hanging open as far as he can see— for what’s about to happen, but he couldn’t do that without giving himself away.

“I’m going to need Business Development, Sales and Marketing to work together closely on the Titan project next quarter. Zoë, Ackerman and Zacharias, as respective heads of these divisions, I’ll require that you regularly meet and update me directly on this matter. It’s a great challenge, but I have no doubt your BDSM task force, as I’ve labeled it, will tackle it under the deadline I stipulated earlier.”

It’s probably unnoticeable to everyone else with his camera so high on his laptop’s screen, but Mike knows he didn’t imagine the way Erwin’s eyes just settled on him, all the way over where he’s lounging on the comfy couch in his boss’ home office, when he said the acronym Mike dared him to place. Knowing this was coming does little to stop Mike’s shock at hearing the awfully casual way he enunciated those letters, and it’s physically painful to have to contain his hilarity —Erwin’s microphone is definitely still on and it’s not that big a room— when he glances back down and sees Erwin actually put it into bold, huge characters onto an otherwise blank slide.

His eyes catch movement on his screen then, and he realizes that some screens that were previously showing faces have suddenly gone dark.

His friend Hange's, however, hasn’t. In fact, they’re currently losing their mind over what just happened, and they’re definitely unaware of their camera being on if the image of them picking up their laptop and running into another room before settling it down in front of Levi as they hurriedly gesture at —Mike’s guessing since their microphone is still thankfully muted— Erwin’s scandalous slide is anything to go by.

It’s not unusual for Hange and Levi, two of the most important people in this company and annoyingly close friends —who, in Mike’s opinion, are two close idiots who really are in love with each other and should get together already— to be spending teleworking days together.

But something is… off in this picture.

Then Mike realizes, now that he’s seen them standing, that Hange’s shirt’s probably been hanging open because it’s obviously several sizes too small. And, before Levi’s eyes comically widen and he extends his arm towards their camera to turn their tiny window black as well, it finally clicks in Mike’s brain.

That wasn’t just Levi.

That was Levi and his naked torso, sculpted by the endless hours he spends in the same gym Mike trains at, and covered in hickeys.

Mike steals a glance at Erwin, but his boss is now calmly calling the end of the meeting, his usual poker face on although there’s no way in hell he didn’t notice what just transpired.

Before he can think of addressing it out loud as Erwin turns his computer off and stands from his chair, Mike’s phone chimes with Nanaba’s special ringtone. He sighs and picks up, knowing making his best friend wait after these very interesting last few minutes isn’t the best idea.

“Mike, what the fuck?” She starts, and Mike rolls his eyes as he rethinks of the countless times she’s threatened him with days long HR seminars about his swearing. “You and Eyebrows did this on purpose, didn’t you? Hange’s freaking out so bad right now!”

She’s being so loud the sound of her voice carries way further than Mike’s phone speaker, and Erwin mouthes the nickname back at him with obvious amusement, now close enough to sit with him on the couch.

“Well, first of all, I didn’t know their camera would be on,” he says, trying not to sound as defensive as the guilt he feels about his other friend’s distress wants him to. “And besides, it serves them right for not telling me they're finally hooking up with Levi! Did you know and forget to tell me by any chance?"

Mike shares a glance with Erwin at that, who shakes his head condescendingly at his outrage —and if Mike wasn’t almost sure his boss had figured his two friends out before they all just got accidental proof of their relationship, now he is— and extends one arm over the back of the couch to scoot even closer to Mike’s lap, before casually starting to leave feather light kisses along his neck.

“You do not have a fucking leg to stand on here, Mister Secret CEO Boyfriend,” Nanaba scolds over the phone, making Mike freeze at the unexpected title, even as the pressure of Erwin’s lips only increases against his sensitive skin. “Which, by the way, I know this was his idea and not yours, you’re not twisted enough to come up with something like this. And I know I said I wanted to make friends with the big boss now that you two are doing the horizontal tango, but I’m not so sure it’s a good idea after—

“That’s alright, Miss Fischer,” Erwin interrupts, taking advantage of the speechless state his hickeys have left Mike into, sounding way too unbothered for their current predicament. “I’m not here to make friends anyway.”

There’s a sudden squeal followed by the muffled sound of Nanaba possibly trying to catch her phone before it falls from her grip.

“Erw— Mister Smith? Oh my God. Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Sir, Mike never said… I mean, had no idea you could overhear—”

“It’s alright,” Erwin says again, pausing to nibble at the skin over Mike’s collarbone, who’s trying to glare at him even though he knows it’s a lost cause. “I’ll see you Monday, Miss Fischer. Have a restful weekend.”

“Yes, Sir. Sorry again. I’ll see you on Monday, Sir.”

Erwin takes the phone away before she’s even done and throws it behind him on the cushions, not bothering to check that the call effectively cut —although Mike’s sure it did, because Nanaba sounded absolutely terrified.

“You just terrorized your HR Director,” he tries, still panting from Erwin’s most recent attention to his neck.

“I know,” Erwin singsongs like he just got praised instead of scolded, nipping along Mike’s jaw playfully now.

“Did you do it because of the nickname, or because I told you she had a crush on me back when we started at the company?”

Erwin chuckles, his breath fanning over Mike’s overheated skin in the process, and draws back far enough to look him in the eyes.

“Come on, I don’t hold such childish grudges,” he says smoothly, predatory smile firmly in place.

Mike bites back his own smile, and tries to keep his face neutral.

“You know I’m aware that you’re lying, right?”

Erwin only grins wider and lets his hand travel along his torso, down his abdomen, and finally cups him briefly over his pants, tearing a hiss out of him that effectively ruins his attempt to appear unimpressed.

“And you know I’m aware of how much that turns you on, right?” he asks in his ear.

"Fuck. Kiss me,” Mike orders.

He doesn’t often use this tone of voice, but you'd need to be blind not to notice the surprising effect it has on such an authoritative figure as Erwin Smith.

But his boss still isn’t one to give up control that easily, as assure the previous times they’ve been together in bed —or this couch, his kitchen, his bathroom... even under his on site desk one memorable time— combined with the way their lips fight for dominance the second they connect and the rough hands that immediately begin tearing at his clothes —well, at Erwin’s shirt that he borrowed today, actually, so Mike really couldn’t care less about the buttons sent flying around the room right now.

Mike lets out a gasp as Erwin pushes him firmly onto his back and trails his hands over the skin he’s just uncovered. His fingers find Mike’s nipples and pinch them, reaching that perfect line between pain and pleasure right away as Mike curses as much as he blesses how well Erwin’s come to know his body in only a few months of casual —is it still casual? Erwin didn’t exactly react to Nanaba calling him Mike’s boyfriend earlier— sex encounters.

The edges of his mind are already getting fuzzy, but Mike doesn’t let himself completely fall under Erwin’s spell yet.

One of his hands cups the back of Erwin’s head and adjusts the angle with enough force to bury his face in his neck, tickling his skin with the facial hair he knows Erwin finds irresistible and unexpectedly biting down, hard. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise; but for one, it’s low enough that Erwin will be able to hide whatever faded mark is left after the weekend under a high collar shirt; and this move is one of Erwin’s weaknesses that’s never failed before.

It doesn’t disappoint now, either, and Erwin moans loudly and goes slack enough at the sudden teeth impact to let Mike switch their position and land on top of him instead.

“You really shouldn’t lie to me, Mister Smith,” he growls as he settles on top of him, rotating his hips so his ass rubs against the hardening erection in Erwin’s pants even as he brings one hand to wrap his around his throat.

He spreads his fingers around his airway, teasing gently before he starts squeezing.

“Wait,” Erwin chokes out suddenly.

Mike lets go of his neck at once, dropping the act and cupping his cheek instead.

“Red?” he asks, searching Erwin’s eyes for signs of pain.

He tried to erase the surprise from his voice but knows he only partially succeeded —choking is certainly not where they’ve ever drawn the line before. Then again, if that’s what Erwin needs right now, of course he’ll stop.

“No, of course not,” Erwin says, dismissing his concerns with a scoff. “But don’t you want your assignment first?”

“Oh. Well, sure, but why… I mean, what is it, do you think I’m going to fuck your brains out so hard you won’t remember when I’m done with you?” he teases, grinding against him again.

“Actually, yes,” Erwin breathes through a tender smile.

There’s no trace of humor in his tone or on his face now, and Mike is split between a surge of white hot arousal at knowing his lover genuinely thinks that highly of him, and near-overwhelming affection for the sometimes disarmingly honest, always unpredictable, and forever complicated man he’s currently pinning down on expensive leather they’re about to ruin.

“Alright,” he concedes, putting both hands on each side of Erwin’s head and stilling his movements. “What inappropriate word do you charge me to use in workplace conversation next week, Sir?”

Erwin curls his index to coax Mike closer. He follows the order and leans over him until Erwin’s able to take his lower lip between his teeth and suck on it, and Mike’s groan lingers even after he’s let go with a loud pop.

“C.B.T,” Erwin enunciates.

Mike closes his mouth and swallows. Hard.

Erwin smirks up at him, his clever hands using the distraction to unbutton and unzip Mike’s pants in one fluid movement.

#snk #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #erumike #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #erumike fanfiction #erwin smith #mike zacharias #miche zacharias #mikeeru #erwin x mike #erwin x miche #levihan #(minor/background but they're still in here)#my stuff #ao3 link

28 notes · View notes

kayawolfhorse · 4 months

Text

It’s the night before the final day of the server, and Pearl can’t sleep.

Earlier in the evening, she, Gem, and Impulse had gathered in Gem’s dining hall for one last shared meal of stew—not poisoned, though Pearl thinks it could’ve done with a pinch for that extra punch—before biding their farewells and heading off to their own bases for a night of rest before the big day. Pearl has plenty to do before she can leave her base in good conscience, not to mention her plans with some of the other hermits for a few rounds of Bin-Go.

Still, as she lays in her usual bed in an empty hospital wing, owing to the fact she never built herself a proper bedroom, Pearl can’t sleep. She can’t quite quiet her mind enough to lose consciousness. It’s after a couple hours of trying with no luck that she gives up entirely.

Wandering down the partially finished main tunnel, Pearl grips a mug of tea and debates what to do. She’s restless, full of too many jitters to settle down and build, though Pearl knows a good project might calm her racing thoughts. Instead Pearl unfurls her wings and takes off in flight, following the gentle curve of the river that divides the Soup Group’s bases before shooting upwards and closing her eyes, savoring the cool night breeze.

It isn’t long before Grian’s base comes into view, a castle built into an impressively large boulder, framed by several floating rocks. It was an impulsive decision to come here—Grian was always Pearl’s insomniac buddy back in Boatem, along with Scar, but Pearl doesn’t see Grian out and about. She chooses to land upon the highest floating boulder, settling down and sinking her fingers into the soft moss beneath her. It’s a good thinking spot, and Pearl’s favorite place to stargaze.

The stars are a comfort in their familiarity, in the constellations Pearl knows like the back of her hand. The moon, too, is beautiful tonight, almost full. Tomorrow’s moon will be full. Pearl can’t help but continually check its size.

Though she didn’t initially see him, Pearl soon hears the beat of Grian’s feathery wings, and his head pops up over the ridge of the rock as he rises to meet Pearl, coming to sit next to her.

“Didn’t feel like saying hello?” Grian teases, nudging Pearl in the ribs.

Pearl shakes him off with a snort. “Nah, I just didn’t want to wake you. Pretty big today tomorrow, you need your sleep.”

“I wasn’t asleep yet, which is how I heard you. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Couldn’t,” Pearl says with a shrug, taking a sip of the tea still clasped between her hands. “Figured I’d come stargaze for a bit instead.”

“Hm.” Grian’s never understood Pearl’s love for stargazing; too much sitting still, in his opinion. He still sometimes joins her. “It’s a nice clear night for it.”

“Yeah, it is.” Pearl leans back on her hands and glances at the moon again.

Grian must’ve caught the movement- he’s surprisingly observant when he wants to be. “Nervous for tomorrow?”

Pearl shrugs again. She’s not sure it comes across with the same casualness as before. “You can’t blame me, with how last season ended, for being a little antsy.”

“That’s true,” Grian concedes. “Though, I think you’ll find tomorrow much more pleasant than the moon crashing into the server. Generally we, like, play mini-games and stuff. Season eight’s doomsday was a special case.”

“I guess you’re right,” Pearl says with a chuckle. “Thanks for the reminder. I think I needed it.”

Grian flashes her the thumbs up of someone allergic to sentimentality, but his eyes are sincere. “With no doomsday to prepare for, what are your plans for tomorrow?”

“I’ve got quite a bit of base tidying up to do, and we’ve got Bin-Go to play.” The to-do list grows behind Pearl’s eyes. “What about you? What’re you getting up to?”

“Eh, not much. Thought I’d tour around the server a bit. I’ve resigned to my shulker monster staying where it is, there’s really no point in cleaning it up so late.”

Pearl scoffs in dismay. Clutching her chest, she dramatically cries, “How could you do this to my cleaning lady's heart?”

Grian grins. “A season change is like going on vacation, but better! I don’t have to pack, and don’t have to worry about any of my stuff back at home. I can just leave it all and forget about it.”

With flashbacks to the April Fool’s prank Grian played on her the year before, Pearl punches Grian in the arm. It isn’t hard enough to hurt, but Grian falls over as if he’s been fatally wounded, cradling his arm.

“Oh, when will the suffering end?” Grian flops back a bit further for extra effect.

“Oi, go play on someone else’s sympathies with that acting. That’s what you get for leaving chest monsters on the last day!”

Grian giggles despite his performance, and Pearl can’t help but start laughing herself. Flopping down beside Grian, Pearl tucks an arm behind her head and uses the other to point at the night sky, tracing constellations and relaying their names. After Grian runs out of constellations to reply with, he turns to coming up with new ones on the spot, and it morphs into a game of out-doing each other’s ridiculous made-up constellations.

As dawn creeps over the horizon, their game ends in a draw, though Pearl owes Grian a soda from Scarland after a lost bet. When it’s light enough to reasonably dub it the new day, Grian gives Pearl a rare embrace and they wave goodbye as Pearl takes off, heading back to her own base.

It’s the final day of the server. The moon watches over the land from where it always has, and Pearl will be okay.

(Reblogs do more than likes!)

#pearl hasn’t posted her final episode yet so i’m choosing to believe i’m not late to this #still a bit sick as i wrote this so ignore any wonkiness but i wanted something short and sweet #my writing #kaya posts #hermitcraft #pearlescentmoon #grian #skyblings

39 notes · View notes

carolinaboy34 · 1 year

Text

Laundry

Laundry is a necessary evil in college. It really wasn’t that big of a deal to me though. I had been doing laundry at home since I was a little kid, after mom left, so I could get through it pretty quickly. Dad always let me get away with having to do other chores if I did all of our laundry. Same thing since we've been at college. George asked me if I’d do his laundry, and in return, he’d keep the room neater. So, this Sunday morning, I found myself gathering our dirty laundry to take to the basement laundry room to get through it. It was a pleasant fringe benefit that I could handle George’s underwear (I promise I didn’t sniff his sweaty stuff as I was putting it in the machine…). I planned on taking my Chemistry text book along for the trip to try to get some work done while I was waiting for the machines to finish.

I had waited a little too long to do laundry this time, as I didn’t have a lot of clothes left to wear. No underwear, some shorts that were a little too short and a tank top that was probably a size too small, hugging my torso and leaving little to the imagination. Oh well, it usually wasn’t that busy on Sunday morning, and who the fuck really cared??

I got down to the laundry room to find it empty, so I went about using a couple of the machines to start our loads. There were quite a few machines down there, so I could take more than one and get it all done quicker. I started the washers and sat down at the big table in the middle of the room with my books and started working on my project, not paying much attention to what was going on around me. The whirr of the machines and the big exhaust fan drowned out much of the noise around me, so I folded into a cocoon and studied. I didn’t even notice when the door opened and someone else came in, but I certainly heard him when he crashed into one of the machines and leaned against it unsteadily. It was obvious he was pretty drunk and had what appeared to be something that came out of his body all down the front of his clothes. He kicked off his shoes and started to undress right there, throwing his clothes into the machine and slamming the lid down. He sort of slumped against the machine, using it and the wall to stay upright, then slowly slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor in front of it, naked, and very drunk. He didn’t turn the machine on or put detergent in it, so I walked over and asked him if he needed help with the controls. He just stared at me for a moment then eyed me up and down, but didn’t say anything. I thought I’d be nice, so I put soap and fabric softener in and turned it on. I felt his eyes on me the whole time, but he still didn’t say anything.

I went back to the table and sat down to study some more, but I will admit that I strutted a little and bent over more dramatically than I normally would have, just to see what would happen. My clothes did a good job of showing off my assets, especially my legs and ass, as well as my tight body. He didn’t move, so I went back to studying, occasionally catching glimpses of this naked man in the laundry room. He was ruggedly attractive - clearly a football player or some other sport that emphasized size over finesse. He was well built but not sculpted or cut, with broad shoulders and a fine mat of hair over his chest and abdomen. He was slumped against the wall with a hand holding up his head and his knees spread out, his soft dick hanging down over his big balls and nearly reaching the floor. He hadn’t shaved for a day or two, but it was clear he was a clean-cut man normally, just as most of the football players are, as they are required to shave and have good haircuts for away games. He just kept staring at me, or at least in my direction, without expression or any communication.

My washers finished, and I went to them to transfer to the dryer, which is stacked on top of the washer. I bent over to get the clothes, then “had” to stretch up to put them in the dryer, very much putting on a show and seeing if I could get any reaction. Nothing, although I think he may have been a little “plumper” than he was when he first sat down, but it was a small difference. He was clearly a shower, not a grower (while I’m very much a grower).

I’m not sure why I was trying so hard to get a reaction from him, but it was like a challenge that I wanted to succeed at. I usually get what I want, and I didn’t want to break my streak. Did I want him? I mean, sure. He was built and had a great dick, so why not? I made it back to the table and was working on my Chemistry when his machine buzzed that it was finished. I looked over at him, and he was still staring at me, or at least near me, and didn’t react to the buzz. I went over and opened his machine to transfer his wet clothes to the dryer, bending over right in front of him then standing up and “straining” to reach the dryer, up on my tiptoes, to load the machine. As I was standing there right in front of him, my butt sticking out topping my legs that were all but uncovered due to my short shorts, I felt his hand lightly touch my calf then run up my thigh to the bottom of my ass, slightly exposed under the edge of my shorts.

His meaty hand grabbed my ass over my shorts, massaging my muscles, eliciting a moan from me. I dropped back down a little, off my toes, and remained standing against the machine. I closed the door and started it, then just stayed there as he continued to roughly massage my ass. I looked down over my shoulder and saw him looking at my legs and butt, his dick clearly harder than it was before. The length stayed the same, but his girth was considerably bigger and it was no longer touching the ground, but was pointed out in front of him. He didn’t make eye contact, but he clearly was enjoying playing with my tight butt.

He clumsily reached up and grabbed at the waistband of my shorts and pulled on them, trying to expose my ass, I suppose. I wiggled my butt and helped him, my shorts sliding down my legs and puddling on the floor at my feet. His hand went directly to my smooth butt cheeks, rubbing them lightly. The delicate touch brought out goose flesh on my butt and caused me to shiver at his attention. I giggled lightly, and he reached up to my waist and pulled me down clumsily. I crashed to the ground and landed sideways on his lap, his hard dick pushed down under my butt and trapped against the floor. His arms wrapped around me from the side and pulled me into him. He was trying to rearrange me on his lap but was so uncoordinated, I couldn’t tell what he was trying to accomplish. I spun around and straddled him, my arms on his shoulders. He finally made eye contact with me and smiled. He reached up and grabbed my head, pulling me down into a sloppy, aggressive kiss.

His hand came down my chest and tweaked my nipple really hard on the right, which has never been something I loved, so I squirmed around on his lap. He reached down and grabbed both of my ass cheeks and pulled my tight against him, his dick riding up my crack. He broke the kiss and said “Gonna let me in the tight pussy, baby?”

“Uh huh. Split me open with that hard dick.”

“Fuck yeah. Finally gonna get in that ass! I’ve watched you around the dorm for weeks, and now I get it!”

“All you had to do was ask, big boy. I wasn’t playing hard to get!”

I honestly didn’t remember ever seeing him before, but who knows? Lots of boys in the dorm, and only so many days in the week! I spit in my hand and reached back to coat the head of his dick, rubbing my lube into his heavy shaft before rising up and pointing it at my smooth hole. I spit into my hand one more time, worried his girth might need the extra assistance, then slowly dropped down, his dick knocking at my back door. We met resistance for several moments before my hole gave way and accepted his glans and the first bit of the shaft inside. The stretch felt amazing, my tight muscles yielding to his intrusion. I held still for a moment to get used to his size, but he had other ideas. With his hands still on my ass, he grabbed on tight and pulled me down, down, down, until he was fully inside. My hard dick was riding against his furry belly, but he paid it no attention as my hole tightly gripped his dick sliding inside my depths. His girth was immense, and the pain I felt as he initially drove inside was slowly giving way to pleasure as he picked me up and used my body to jack his dick.

His arms were bulging with the job of picking me up and dropping me down on his dick. His grunting coupled with my moans competed against the white noise of the machines in the laundry room for dominance. I doubt anyone could hear as they walked by outside, but peeking in the door, they would’ve gotten an eyeful! I was regaining some strength and coordination, working my feet under me to be flat on the floor, so I was able to use my legs and arms around his neck to assist him in lifting me up and dropping me down, which I did with increasing force until his hole splitter was slamming into me each time I went down. I hugged him closer and buried my face in his neck, moaning and grunting and drooling down his shoulder as we worked together to make this fuck a memorable one.

All of a sudden, he roared and pushed me forward until I tumbled and was on my back on the cold tile floor. He remained inside me but maneuvered over me, curling me up with my thighs against my chest and my knees banging my ears. This gave him all of the control, and he used it to absolutely pummel my hole. His animalistic grunts, accompanying each thrust into my body, drove me wild, as well as the feeling of his big balls slamming into my ass each time he bottomed out inside me. His scruffy beard was rubbing my neck raw as he held tight against me and continued his assault on my ass. I wrapped my arms tight around him and held on, my hole completely yielding any strength to his dick and allowing him total access to my enveloping boi pussy. I used what muscle strength I had to contract around him, increasing the sensations we were both feeling. I wiggled my legs free and wrapped them around him, pulling him tight against me while he flexed his back and drove his monster inside. We were scooting across the floor, the skin of my shoulders squeaking with each thrust, until we were under one of the folding tables. The echo there of our grunts and moans enveloped our senses, and drove me closer to orgasm.

He was relentless! His rhythmic pounding against my ass, the squeak of my skin on the floor, his belly hair rubbing my stone-hard dick all combined to push me over the edge. I released my load between us, gasping and moaning as I shot spurt after spurt up on my chest and neck, soaking into my skin tight tank top. His grunts became more urgent, as my body continued to convulse with my orgasm, and he pushed in one final time and held still, unloading his massive load inside me. I could feel his dick expand in my hole while he held still then pulse with each shot as he filled me up. He then unleashed the hardest and fastest fucks he’d yet given, driving his load as deep as he could get it, some of it squishing out around his shaft.

He collapsed on top of me and remained still for several moments, regaining his breath and relaxing his muscles. I stayed wrapped around him, holding on tight to feel his warmth and strength as long as possible. He took in a big breath and pushed up, breaking free from me, then leaned down and kissed me delicately before crawling out from under the table. I collapsed on the floor, my muscles letting go for the first time in a while. I could feel his load leaking out of my wide open hole, no strength left to try to hold it in. As he stood up, still unsteady on his feet, his dryer buzzed that it was done. He reached in and grabbed his clothes, then got dressed there in the laundry room. He banged against the machine a couple of times while he was putting on his pants, then stumbled past the table and out the door.

My clothes had long since finished, so I slowly crawled out from under the table. I found my shorts and pulled them up, allowing his load spread out over my ass to soak into the material. I gathered my books and our clothes and took them back upstairs, so I could fold them. I passed two guys on the stairway going up, and the very obvious stain on my shirt did not go unnoticed. I wondered if they would like to pass the time in the laundry room like my friend did. Damn, I didn’t even get his name!

199 notes · View notes

thebeaniefreak · 1 year

Text

He was an artist, She was his art.

( Art Student! Yeonjun Drabble i came up with randomly on the bus to work one day. I don’t write often, i usually cringe at my own writing, but i shared this with a couple friends and they thought it was cute so~ here i am. Feedback is appreciative! I also, would really like to know if you’d want me to continue this at any point. Happy Reading!)

"Why do you keep doing that?" She asked, confused about Yeonjuns random Public displays of affection.

"Doing what?" He responded to her question, with another question, not turning away from the easel, the painting he was working on was currently his top priority, as it was due tomorrow morning.

"Don't act oblivious!" She stomped her foot slightly frustrated. "The random PDA, why do you do that???"

"Do you not like it?" Came his response, slight disappointment in his tone. He liked showing her affection, especially in public. He was an artist and she was his art.

"No-" her voice came abruptly. "I mean- yes? I? Uh? I don't-" she was tumbling over her words, not meaning to say no. She liked it. She loved when he'd set his hand on her knee when they sat together, or the random waist grabbing, hugs, forehead kisses.

"Find your words, dear." He chuckled, pushing his glasses back up his face, leaving a smudge of paint on the tip of his nose, and turning to smile at her. She was looking at the floor fidgeting, trying to find the right words to say.

“I do like it.” her voice came small. “But do you?” she asked, looking up through her eyelashes. Yeonjun loved when she looked at him like that, but hated the way her voice came.

“Of course I do!” he said. “You’re my girlfriend.” his hands were on his hips, as he talked.

“Yeah, duh.” She blushed. “But….” she kicked her feet and stubbed her fingers together, fidgeting clearly nervous. “Do you feel like you have to do it? I hear what people say about me.” She wasn’t deaf, she very clearly heard the way some students in his class would call her a charity case. That Yeonjun was only dating her because he felt sorry for her.

He threw his head back when he chuckled, stepping toward her wiping his hands on his pants. “I show you random affection because I Love you. Not because other people are whispering about you, or us.” He grabbed her face into his hands, making her look up at him, their height difference about a foot apart. The top of her head rested below his chest, if she wore flat shoes.

“You’re a work of art.” He began, staring into her eyes. “You deserve to be shown off, worshiped. I’d put you in a museum if I could, you’re such an amazing piece of art I'm almost jealous I didn't make you myself.” She sucked her teeth at his last comment, pulling back slightly, a grimace on her face.

“Okay, yeonjunnie that was cringe.” was her response. He pecked her nose before letting her pull away fully.

“Cringe? Or true?” he raised an eyebrow as he asked. “You may not see it, hell, everyone else may not see it. But I do.” His voice went from playful to sincere. “You’re beautiful, I love looking over at you and knowing you’re my girlfriend.” He grabbed one of her hands, playing with her fingers, the difference in the size of their hands was one of his favorite things, both of her hands can fit in one of his. “And I can do this, whenever I want.” he continued before kissing said hand, the pulling of her arm causing her to stand slightly on her tiptoes.

“You’re making me blush.” She mumbled, using her free hand to cover her face, he let go and walked back to the easel, continuing to work on the canvas.

“I’ll take every chance I get to kiss you, touch you, and make you smile.” Only then does she notice his art project is a painting of her. Her fiery red curly hair stood out on the canvas, a single tear slipping down her cheek. This wasn’t just any art project, this one specifically if graded high enough has a chance to go into the school’s own art museum. Yeonjun could’ve picked anything in the world to paint for his realism piece, but he chose her.

“Yeonjun….” She sniffles loudly, causing him to turn around abruptly, noticing the tears on her face he rushes to her, concern adorning across his features. He wiped her tears away, accidentally smearing paint on one of her cheeks.

“You okay dear?” worried was an understatement. “Did I say something wrong?” he pulled one of his sleeves down and wiped the smear he caused with it, apologizing when she grimaced from the rough touch.

“It’s me.” Her voice came with a hiccup. “Your final is me?” his eyes lit up once he realized her tears weren’t sadness. “Yeonjun this- You?” she was tumbling over her words again, at a loss for them really.

“Did I not just say I'd put you in a museum if I could?” He pulled her closer to the canvas to inspect up close. “It’s not finished yet, obviously.” There were no actual facial features on it yet, but she knows her hair anywhere, especially in Yeonjun’s art. He always had her hair fierce yet unruly in his paintings, even in his drawings. He always went on and on about how he loved her hair, he liked to twirl it around his fingers, and helped her wash it when she wasn't feeling well.

“You’re a person, my person. I’ll paint a million canvases with you on it just to prove my point.” She stared at the art piece, before looking up at him and smiling, tears still in her eyes. “I’m not sure if I want to leave it like this, it’s like the artwork from that game you play-” Dragon Age, she thought. There was no way he wasn’t talking about Dragon Age. The Character Cards in Inquisition had articulate detail, but no actual facial features on them. They were smudged. “- Or go into detail about how beautiful your facial features are.” He looked back to his art work, inspecting the eyes, not yet filled in with color. “I don’t want anyone else to be able to stare into your eyes like I do.”

He paused before he continued, putting his hand on his chin and scrunching up his nose. He was thinking, and she likes watching him work. “But that would be selfish of me, and artist’s can’t be selfish.” He chuckled, before turning back to her once more. “What’s your thoughts?”

“My thoughts?” her voice came confused. “Yeonjun this is your art, you have final say.” The girl chuckled, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“Yes, but it is OF you. So I think you’re entitled to a say in my masterpiece.” he picks up a paint brush, adding color to a spot he noticed he had missed before. “If I submit this, and it wins, it’ll be in a museum for a long time. Are you okay with something with distinguishable features of yours being in a museum? Like your eyes? Glasses? Your nose?”

“Yeonjun, I think the hair makes it pretty obvious that it’s me right away.” she could see the smile on his face. A bad joke was coming.

“It could be Merida, from Brave.” she glared at him for that. “I am joking, I love your hair.”

“I’d be honored, Yeonjun.” The smile on his face was enough to light multiple countries for centuries. She could stare at him forever. He may be the artist, but he was Art to her.

#yeonjun #choi yeonjun #txt #tomorrow by together #fanfic #one shot #Art Student! Yeonjun #alternate universe #au #txt au #yeonjun au

12 notes · View notes

yutaholic · 2 years

Note

Jungwoo/Mark’s tweet earlier got me sooo mad I was heated again like so quick after the nj concert the very next day you’re like “back to koreaaaaa💚” like I’m upset bc i am into 2 other groups, all of which I’ve supported since their respective debuts (except for the fact that I’d been around and waited for neos since 2014 smrookies…since their fucking name sounded like a citation in a legal contract, SR14B! That’s right, all the way from Florida, I’ve been down for them since before THEY WERE EVEN “THEM”, THEIR DAMN SELVES!! I remember when Haechan spelled his birth name without a ‘c’ in it, you little muskrats, i— anyway ) but 80% of my attention time and money for the last few years has been to nct, including superm. First it was it was like 50-55%, then it progressed a couple years ago to 65-75, now here we are. To the point that I still care about my favs but all I talk about & most of I listen to & only I voted for, has been nct. On top of that, I’m Black. And was most active on Twitter. Do y’all know how hard it is to be a black ifan to these mfs for over half a decade, sometimes I wonder if im in my right mind cus part of me lookin in the mirror like “bitch u sure u good over there?🤨” 😭

The confidence…the gall, the audacity, the mf TEMERITY of these people to either not gaf enough about the majority of their fans that they’ll pussyfoot around and kiss the feet of Korean nctzens so much that they are actively disrespecting us. A few of them lurk, I know they do, esp Ty. ik cus he’s my bias & what he texts in bubble proves he knows things he wouldn’t be aware of without looking at our tweets. I am so upset with him & I have never been mad enough about anything he’s done as I am rn. If you’ve seen anything Tyongf have said, you know we are a little shocked and a lot disappointed. I’d planned to say sumn but that video showing he was insecure in his position came out so I used my allotted texts on that but the minute he sends smth (3 replies allowed per message of the artist) it’s ON, on.

I remember superhuman era quite well but what strikes me is how large the treatment gap has widened since then. There came to a time where we were lowered another peg (cus we knew we weren’t equal) to please and appease kfans. Then it’s gotten worse and worse when their fandom size jump quite a bit with Kick It but EXPONENTIALLY abroad with Sticker & favorite last year. But the acknowledgement has been less! How long does sm think we will sit & take this from them before we find another group that doesn’t mistreat their fans abroad lmao. One of those I’m into is BTS. Do you think I would’ve been calling radio stations regularly to get & then keep their songs on there, buying the albums in store to help with physicals and doing all the other projects if they treated intl army like NCT treats nctzens outside of Korea🧐?!?? Does NCT and sm think GRAMMY NOMINATIONS came to BTS twice by intl armys getting treated like second class citizens?! LMAOOO chile they have bumped their damn heads.

Atp I want Chris Lee and some other people’s heads on pikes!! Whoever make them type of decisions to shun us!! They really bending over backwards for people who tanked their entire era in anger bc American fans got fan service like taking pics with them on the street & shit?? That just shows how shallow they can be! Clown asses! Usually I’m like “Bubu don’t go on Twitter there aren’t good things there” but rn I’m sooo close to going off that it got me boutta text him to go on Twitter & exactly what to search if he wanna see whats really good in the fandom rn. I’m tired of being understanding & acting like I’m fine and is being the bigger person. I want to evoke emotions, I want them feel upset and worry and FEAR👹 It sounds unhinged and petty but I want them for even just a MINUTE, to have a bodily experience of fright and sadness and the realization that we very can leave in droves! But not boycotting an era and cursing them out, oh no, by legitimately just dropping them. That we CAN leave their asses silently and put another group on the map. We can drop not just the unit but the whole brand, ending that nct Hollywood bullshit RIGHT NOW if they don’t appreciate us being around. We don’t expect to be superior just at least toe the mf line??

It’s funny, they call us grass sometimes bc of our light sticks. I’m all about not feeling insecure or conflicted in the past but…These days? I’d thoroughly enjoy them having an “oh shit…” feeling of despair, and epiphany that if they don’t water ALL the “grass” in their yard, there WILL be noticeably large patches of nothing but dirt and dead plants.

I need you to know that I thoroughly enjoyed reading this ask. You have a way with words. I could feel the rage through my screen. I also felt like I was being scolded even though I did nothing wrong. You know how like when you're in the room and your friend is getting chewed tf out by their mom? That's how I felt for a hot minute lol

I said in an earlier ask that all this ncity discourse has me feeling like I'm on the couch with a bag of popcorn watching my bestie fight with her boyfriend. You are now that bestie and I will cheer you on while you read our men to filth. 👏 also hell yes kill nct hollywood early so we never gotta deal with that shit! hahahaha

17 notes · View notes

maxwell-grant · 2 years

Text

Ask Round-Up: June

Hi there! Got some time to spare so I figured I’d kick this one off first thing in the month,. A couple of points, as usual

-Happy Pride Month!

-I posted a video on Twitter recently dubbing a comic Dan Schkade did, and I’m linking it here to announce that I do intend to use my Twitter for stuff soon (mostly when I do start “The Grim Screen” proper, which is the name of that big mystery project I keep alluding to, and where the characters in my profile pictures come from). I’m still figuring out how I wanna use social media to share and promote my work in a way that isn’t more grating than it’s worth, I need to start trying new things, this being one of them.

-It’s COLD-AS-SHIT here in Brazil, we’ve been getting hit with some of the absolute coldest days in the country’s history, honestly reminded me of when I spent some weeks in London during a winter. Getting raised in a tropical country absolutely does not prepare you for that kind of shit, especially when coats (and clothes in general) your size tend to be stupidly expensive. And COVID’s spiking again to the point most people can no longer pretend this pandemic ever ended.

-I picked a stray cat off the garbage over a month ago and, after trying every available option to see if someone could take care of her, running a ton of tests and taking her to vets and looking after her in our studio, we ended up giving up on pretending we weren’t gonna adopt her. Currently in the process of moving her to our home and getting our house cat to adjust to the new presence and it’s, a work in progress.

-Still massively busy due to musical theater, currently trying to get enough time to finish my resume and start looking for work elsewhere.

-Currently caught between several juggling acts that have only gotten exponentially worse and more stressful since the first draft of this post but nevermind let’s go:

@jcogginsa asked: So we just got a new Street Fighter VI Gameplay Trailer, with what seems to be a fairly massive change to the series' gameplay

If anything, the gameplay seems to be the least changed aspect of it, or maybe it’s just the one I’m noticing the least because, frankly I don’t care about gameplay that much, but, wow, color me genuinely impressed with what they’ve shown so far. Just, Christ, this is what a major step forward finally feels like, not some faux-Alpha soft reboot or all-stars compilathon, no, they really are serious about taking Street Fighter to the future. Ryu, I already remarked at being pleased with them allowing Ryu to mature and change his outfit and role, but I’m far more impressed that they’re clearly letting Chun-Li follow suit as well, getting a slight visual overhaul (sort of a lightly-colored combination of her two key designs, SF2 and Alpha, with a characterization that seems to be building off her Third Strike era and a handful of new details like the change in bracelets and more exposed forehead to cement her maturity) and getting to show off a little as a teacher in the trailer. It feels nice to have good things to say about the direction they’re taking Chun-Li as a character (and oh thank god she’s got a new voice actor, I never liked Laura Bailey’s voice for her, this game really is spoiling me).

They even got me onboard with having Luke stick around as the MC! Yeah, color me fucking shocked, but when he doesn’t look as much like Logan Paul a grotesque eyesore with a superfluous personality and he looks like a character that actually belongs in this world, and he gets a very neat-looking rival character to play off, yeah, I’m onboard with him. Really liked Jaime, too, I think he really sets a new standard for SF character design quite nicely, I like that just from a glance he pays homage to a lot of SF archetypes while very clearly being his own character (to a better extent than Luke, who seems to have been designed with the same idea in mind), love that he’s Street Fighter’s first take on the “drunken master” archetype except he’s not just a hokey old cliche but instead a fresh new spin on the archetype. This is what Street Fighter made it’s name on, this is what it should always be doing.

Also saw that most of the starting roster was leaked a while ago, a couple of comments on that: I love that none of the OG World Warriors are coming back without some form of redesign, in particular I love Blanka’s new clothes and E.Honda looks cooler than ever. Not a fan of them finally being cowards enough to give Zangief pants but, fine, they are clearly scaling down the cartooniness of the prior installments, I get why the speedo had to go. Glad they kept Dhalsim’s beard while reverting back his bald head and, changing his necklace? Interesting. Very interested in what the hell’s going on with Ken, fucker looks more divorced with every new installment, kinda surprised that it’s Ken who looks like he’s got his shit together a lot less than Ryu this time around / and uh, I wrote this post before it was apparently leaked that Ken actually is divorced? The fuck? Curious to see how that goes.

LOVE LOVE LOVE GOUKI’S NEW LOOK, holy shit this is what he should have looked like in SFV to begin with, fuck, finally they made a redesign for him that doesn’t suck. Love that they seem to have incorporated one of the concept ideas they had for him for SFV, which was to have him wear the fur of a bear he killed, into his main design, because that is 100% a Gouki thing to do and it works masterfully with the lion / wildman imagery he’s already got going on.

Funny, I was JUST thinking the other day if they were ever gonna bring Dee Jay back and if they did, they were definitely gonna have to redesign him and tone down everything that made him look like a grotesque racist caricature or, at least, change it so that he doesn’t stick out as much compared to the other characters, which it seems like they did, I’m actually kinda shocked over how much I like how he looks now, he’s like 100 times better. I always did like Dee Jay’s concept as a fun-loving musician who, unlike the other characters, really was just in it to have fun, and I like that he actually looks the part now. LOVE that they brought Rashid back and redesigned him to look sexier, actually, I like that they seem to be a lot more willing to let the dudes look explicitly hot this time around at a similar and show more skin while the female characters look like they were made with looking cool as a priority over looking like someone’s fetish (might retract this statement depending on how Laura or Mika look like if they make it to the game).

Juri was obviously gonna come back, but I definitely prefer this look over the SFV bodysuit, not surprised Ed’s back but am mildly interested with where they’re taking him lore-wise. The new characters look a little samey and, to an extent they kinda look a little more like Tekken characters (but then again the whole aesthetic of this game reminds me a lot of Tekken), but I definitely like their look, and I definitely think they are gonna make a vastly better batch of newcomers than what IV and V had. I’m particularly interested in Marisa, JP, Kimberly and Aki. So, yeah, I’m definitely on board with where this game is heading.

Anonymous asked: Do you have any interest in seeing other parts of South America?

Sure. Already traveled through quite a bit of it, but I always wanna travel more, traveling’s one of my favorite things to do. Unfortunately it’s also terribly expensive even besides the whole, cough, pandemic. But, yeah, I definitely miss traveling.

Anonymous asked: Excluding pastiche of the character like Swam, what is your favourite version of the phantom of the opera ?

Come to think of it I, don’t think I actually have one? My favorite Phantoms are the ones I make myself out of extensively curating and Frankensteining together the dozens and dozens of existing Phantoms, sort of like The Shadow but to a much greater extent since there’s hundreds of Phantom of the Opera stories out there and the character’s public domain. I guess for me it’s not so much particular “versions” of the character, so much as it’s particular ideas.

I love Leroux’s Erik, I think the resolution to his story is still pretty unsurpassed (except by the one depicted in the short story “Beauty and the Opéra, or The Phantom Beast” by Suzy McKee Charnas, that one has by far the best take I’ve read yet on the Phantom x Christine relationship), I find myself lately appreciating a lot how remarkably childish and darkly humorous he’s written to be, way more than you’d ever expect the original take on The Phantom to be. I like Lon Chaney’s Phantom likewise for the humor and classic villainy he has fun with, particularly in his final scene. I like Ken Hill’s Phantom for similar reasons and he’s probably my favorite of the on-stage Phantoms I’ve seen or heard (I have some more, mixed, feelings for the ALW version, I wrote like a massive report on it recently so I don’t feel like talking about it for now).

I love how BATSHIT HORRIFYING the Phantom of Althea Liu’s Christine is, I really like some of the ideas at play in the Charles Dance version (not a wholly satisfying take but, there’s some ideas in there I like, and honestly being played by Charles Dance does go a long way in at least getting my attention). I love how he’s drawn in the MAZM game (hadn’t had a chance to check it in full yet) and I have some other favorite artistic renditions of him by artists like Greg Hildebrandt, Kyu Ha and Anne Bachelier, to quote a few among many. I have a LOT of space in my files devoted to cataloguing Phantom media and anything adjacent to it as a reference point, I go through them every now and then whenever I start thinking about the kinds of Phantoms I want to create.

Honorable mention right now goes also to the Cosmos Takarazuka Phantom played by Yoka Wao. I’ve never been remotely able to witness this play, there’s no records of it I can find online outside of this terrific review penned by @ancientphantom, but reading that immediately shot this up into becoming one of my absolute favorite takes on the character to read about or imagine (reading that, during Christine’s debut, this version of The Phantom broke the 4th wall by actually going offstage to the orchestra pit in order to personally conduct the orchestra went a long way in making this my favorite show that I’ll never get to watch, seriously, what a brilliant usage of the character).

@thedeathalchemist asked: Since you are doing musical theater, do you have any favorite musicals (can be both stage and film)?

Actually not that many, especially when it comes to stage since music theater shows tend to be terribly expensive. This might seem weird coming off the previous ask, and the fact that I did this big writing assignment on it, but I don’t actually consider the ALW Phantom among them (it’s, weird, the history I have with that play, but I don’t dislike it though). Among the ones that come to mind would be The Lion King (I was a little young to “get” the worship people have for Lion King when I watched the movie, but the play definitely instilled that impression on me), and Morte e Vida Severina gets a very strong recommendation from me.

For film, definitely my number one pick would be Phantom of the Paradise, followed by Little Shop of Horrors and The Prince of Egypt, and now Descendants 2. I watched the whole Descendants trilogy recently and I definitely have a lot of thoughts on it, but Descendants 2 in particular is shockingly good, trust me, it’s worth putting up with the first movie (not bad but, not terribly interesting) to get to it. Speaking of Descendants, I also gotta put it’s older sibling High School Musical here, mainly for 2 and 3 (my favorites being, every number done by Sharpay or Ryan across all three films, the “Troy has a mental breakdown” songs, and “The Boys are Back”, which almost kinda redeems Chad for a second). I also really liked The Happiness of the Katakuris which is, kind of a musical, it’s kind of a whole bunch of things but I don’t remember enough of it to talk more of it. Otherwise I’m not terribly familiar with musicals enough to have a proper list. Get back to me after I’m done with musical theater and that might change.

@krinsbez asked: So, apparently, Dan Schkade has posted a list of "Batman Hot Takes" which includes Alfred being a retired Shadow. Thoughts?

Not something I would write personally in my takes on either character, but I like it primarily because Dan’s reasoning of “He goes from The Master to a servant, shaping the next generation” is a rock-solid foundation for where The Shadow should go as a character if he were to actually “retire” for real. I’d seen this idea of his a while back and actually, this was kind of a crucial puzzle piece that went into my thought process for my “The Shadow meets Cassandra Cain” post, I was wracking my head thinking of ways for these hardline incompatible characters could co-exist or work together and then I found this on his tweets and stuff just kinda clicked together. It made perfect sense.

I also like it because Alfred already kind of embodies a “prior generation” of crimefighter in how usually he’s written to reference James Bond, and because Alfred’s generally a character who already carries some kind of mystery and intrigue in his backstory, part of what makes him work as an all-timer anciliary character comes from us not knowing much about his life other than the myriad of skillsets he once had as the most awesome man on the planet and how that life culminated in him eventually becoming the right-hand man to the current most awesome man on the planet. The Batman crossovers even kinda played around with the idea of The Shadow effortlessly being able to become Alfred even without Bruce noticing.

You could make a very good point based on how well this gap in Alfred’s past fits with the existing gap in The Shadow’s post-1949 future, how seamlessly you could make it so one ends where the other begins, and besides, Alfred’s main vocation besides butler is often established to be that of an actor, which is almost 90% of the time in fiction code for “this character isn’t what they say they are / don’t trust everything they say”. Is it really that unbelievable that Alfred was just, one in a million other names in a lifetime of fighting against evil by adopting different monikers and identities?

Again, not something I’d go for or establish “canonically”, largely because I don’t want The Shadow to be tied down to Batman more than he’s already perceived to be publicly, but the logic and thematic worth here is quite sound.

Anonymous asked: Related to that last question, which fighting game franchise has your favorite lore, and/or the lore that you would most want someone to expand on in another type of work?

Besides the two big ones I already talk about on the regular (Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat), definitely Capoeira Fighter, created by Scott Stoddard (who you can see above in the line-up, as he jokingly inserted himself into the game as a character called “Maionese”, portuguese word for mayo, I was frankly surprised to learn he was North-American). I’ve known about it for a long while but it was only recently that I started doing some looking into it and it’s character designs, and I’m only just now discovering that the creator of this was also the creator of Mad Shark and Robot Unicorn Attack, and the only social media he seems to have is his Youtube channel. Looking up Capoeira Fighter and it’s creator company, Spiritonin, nets you basically just dead pages and zombie pages still up that don’t work anymore because the game was made for Flash, so, yeah, it’s hard to even call Capoeira Fighter a franchise when it largely consists of mostly tech demos and one game that is pretty much gone unless you look for it in BlueMaxima’s Flashpoint. Capoeira Fighter 3 does look a lot more polished and boasts a lot more than could ever be feasibly expected from a flash fighting game, including an interactive Arcade Mode where you can make choices that affect your character’s storyline.

I regret that I didn’t get to play Capoeira Fighter 3 before the death of Flash, because looking it up makes me frustrated. There’s quite a lot to like here. This is absolutely a series that I would love to see get a proper shot under the sun with a budget and some more polish (gameplay definitely could use some work still), there’s a lot of incredible stuff here.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a fighting game, or even a game really, where I look at the characters and recognize not just the pop culture archetypes they draw from, but I also recognize people in them, real people I’ve met. Both of it’s main masters, Mestre Loka and Mestre Rochedo, are opposites and yet they both look unmistakably like real fighting masters and people I’ve trained under (Loka in particular). You see the Muay Thai girl in the image above, named Chompoo? Not only is she the 2nd woman in fighting games who uses Muay Thai, but she’s the only one who actually looks like it (King is by leaps and bounds my favorite of the SNK girls but she’s evidently not dressed for combat), but she actually kinda reminds me of my teacher’s wife (the absolute scariest person I’ve ever seen fight Muay Thai, not even joking, he loves talking about her and showing me videos of his tiny and lovely and terrifying wife tearing down opponents twice her size in the ring), I bring this up because this game's authenticity absolutely deserves praise as well as it's character design. Look at the other two characters above, Ramba and Buldogue, and I’m gonna post this excerpt from BigMex’s article on it that better summarizes the two and part of what is so great about this game:

The diversity of the characters could not be understated. There were 15 unique capoeiristas, in addition there were 13 other "World Warrior" type characters that represented other fighting styles like Muay Thai, Tae Kwon Do and boxing. It was not the sheer number that made the game unique but instead the showcase of figures.

In other fighting games, the playable characters were always roughly the same size and body type. They never had an ounce of fat on them, and were never too short or tall. Capoeira Fighter 3 had every skin color and body type that a person could imagine. The various tones and shades of skin suggested that several characters were of mixed marriages, mulatto or even native.

There was a character that reflected just about every type of gamer there was, including the young and old. None of them seemed feeble when competing against fighters in their prime.

Very few games, before or after, had put as many minority characters in the roster. Very few games had ever put minorities in prominent roles for the accompanying story. The lineup featured tall, skinny, fat, short, muscular and average build body types. Even the heroic Mestres could not have been more opposite

Ramba had actually been away from competition because she was busy at the university. She was asked by Mestre Loka to look after his students. She reluctantly agreed as it would be a good excuse to get away from law school for a moment.

Along the way, Ramba met Buldogue and offered her a better life. Ramba knew that Buldogue was a strong fighter, but had never been given an opportunity outside of the roda (fighting circle). Buldogue had been used as hired muscle by other characters in the game and Ramba wanted to get her out of that life. She knew that the bruiser was actually respected by the community, especially the poor that lived in the favela or ghetto.

If she were able to get an education and become known for something other than fighting, then Buldogue could become an inspiration for other women trapped by their situation. Players were given a choice whether to team up Ramba and Buldogue or to play solo. The purpose of Ramba in the game was not to beat the main villain, but instead to help guide those in need.

If players completed the game solo, then Ramba learned what she was really fighting for. She earned her degree, but decided to open her own firm to help the less fortunate. If she teamed up with Buldogue, she became a mentor and enrolled her in school, while still working double-duty as a lawyer.

Strong, positive, dynamic, interesting minority female characters that didn't need to flash skin to get noticed? There had been few and far between for over 25 years. Designers in Japan and the US had lost focus on how they could introduce new faces without relying on pandering or stereotype.

Characters could color the perception of gamers after all. When done in a positive light they could stop perpetuating stereotypes. Capoeira Fighter 3 had set a standard that would be hard for many developers to follow.

And, man, do I wish Capoeira Fighter 3 actually did set a standard to be followed by the bigger fighting game studios, especially in how they approach black or Brazilian characters. It’s hard going back to those now, seeing a different standard as to what they could be like. So many franchises these days are getting unexpected revivals or glow-ups, I would absolutely be onboard to see Capoeira Fighter get this kind of treatment or to even write and conceive stuff for it myself.

Maybe 2D fighting games have gone with the wind again (platform fighters seem to be growing more as the new rage) but, man, it would break my heart to see this be forgotten, and it very easily could have been. I absolutely do not want this to go the way so many other flash games did, I think Capoeira Fighter's truly remarkable and I would love to see it be revived in some form (or maybe I should just finally take a crack at game design already and make my own fighting games, who knows).

#replies tag #july #fighting games #street fighter #sf #sf6 #street fighter 6 #ryu #chun-li #the phantom of the opera #the shadow #capoeira fighter

21 notes · View notes

thessalian · 1 year

Text

Thess vs Projects & Acquisitions

Well, today’s already been a pretty good day. I mean, I haven’t been awake for long, but ... y’know, that’s part of why it’s been a good day.

Since I had the day off, I had earlier-than-usual mini watch party of The Legend of Vox Machina. (I have thoughts. I’ll ramble about all that later.) Slept in. Woke up and did the online ordering portion of my big grocery shop. Which was good because some of the things I wanted and needed were on special offer - like, the good gluten-free bread, just for example. Also picked up a few ingredients for something I really wanted to try - see, I’m a little fed up at how expensive hot chocolate mix is, and the supermarket own-brand stuff is kind of crap, and I tripped over a video awhile ago about how to make your own. So I’m going to do that. Which meant I needed a couple of storage containers of the right size to store the finished product ... though I could just use the old jars, which I’ve saved. Hmm. Thoughts for later, but honestly, with everything I get up to, I could use storage jars. Also I needed to hit Amazon anyway because I needed a safer candy thermometer than the one I have if I’m going to be making hard candy. Even the steam from heating sugar to hard crack point can be seriously painful, and my candy thermometer requires leaning too close to the pot for my liking.

Anyway, after that, I fulfilled a promise to myself - a promise that this paycheque, on sale or not, I was going to get my Gilmore’s Glorious Bathrobe. It’s time to retire my old one, which looks like I skinned a polka-dotted Muppet to get it. It’s served me well, my old Muppet, but one of the pockets is ripped halfway off and it’s all battered. Best part is, it was still on sale - to the point where even when I sprang for DPD next-day delivery service, it was still cheaper than the base price would have been if I’d bought it while not on sale! Which means I should have it tomorrow! So I am of a squee. That’s even not taking into account that apparently my bestie is throwing the Trinket slippers at me as an early birthday gift.

Look, right now, with the way things are? Being able to stay warm without turning on the heating is a serious bonus. And ... well, the shark socks didn’t work out - they were cheap crap and the soles kept shifting in weird ways so they’re not really wearable - and my lovely super-thick fleece socks are great for warming up my feet when I’m curling up in bed for the night but they’re thick enough that I can’t throw a pair of shoes over them to step out onto the balcony. Thus, two pairs of moderately warm socks and slippers. I’ve been making do with thinner socks so I had my eye on more slippers anyway. I was just getting jazzed about the Trinket slippers hitting the UK shop and thinking I could buy slippers and robe at the same time, when all of a sudden, “I’m letting you know that I’m getting you the Trinket slippers, so you don’t go ahead and buy them first - happy early birthday”. My bestie knows me too well. ^_^

Right. It’s been a productive day but I’ve still got shit to do. Need to go out and pick up painkillers and at least some groceries (delivery’s tomorrow but food is still needed today). So not much shit to do, but some. Tomorrow’s going to be the day for Doing Things, though - fruit to run through the dehydrator, making my hot chocolate mix, and running D&D. And Sunday’s the big group session. Lots to prep for, but hey.

#Thess has a weekend #Which started one day early so huzzah

3 notes · View notes

thearchivistsjournal · 2 years

Text

Day 150,

Morning thought: One hundred fifty. Does that count as a milestone? It’s a multiple of fifty. And a nice clean-looking number. But after hitting one hundred, making note of smaller intervals just doesn't hit the same. But it still hit enough to make me notice?

Eh, that’s enough of that thought. I need to get ready for class.

*******

Lin stopped by today. Sounded like she’d been having a stressful time lately and needed a day to unwind. I let her have the run of the archive while Cass and I taught class upstairs. There was some minor distraction when she first showed up and when she came back up to chat during the lunch recess. She certainly gets along well with kids. No sign of the usual facade of detached professionalism she puts on around people. It feels condescending to say, but for a moment I found myself thinking that she seems to fit in better with them than other adults. Maybe it’s just comfort from not feeling the need to put up pretenses around them.

Once class was over for the day and the children had gone home we got more of a chance to talk and catch up with one another. Apparently an old woman living in the outskirts had taken ill recently and so most of Lin’s time these days was spent trekking out to attend to her, alternating shifts with her father. It seems that there’s usually some elder or another who gets sick during the rainy season, and Lin admitted to having grown to dislike the season for that. A depressing time of old folks realizing they aren’t long for this world and needing a doctor to make their last days comfortable.

I off-handedly observed that that seemed to track with my recent observations about dates of death; i.e. most deaths happening at the end of a rainy season or start of a dry season, meaning that the worst part of the decline would have been during the rainy season. Eager for a change in topic, Lin pounced on that comment and started asking questions about my extrapolated census project. What it was, why I was doing it, if I’d found anything interesting - that sort of thing.

I explained that it had started with me being curious about birth rates based on the class size feeling small to me, and from there it just sort of expanded due to me wanting something different to do. I mean, I guess theoretically there might be a practical use for it, but at the moment it really is just a pet project for the sake of keeping my mind occupied.

Lin asked what I meant about the class size being small, and I explained what I believe I’ve written about before regarding my own memories of birth rates in my past world and there seemingly being too few children of any given age given the size of the Village, the abundance of food and resources, and the general lack of disease and dangers. From there I apologized for coming back around to the original topic she was wanting a break from before bringing up how odd it was that the death rate so evenly matched the birthrate. That, if I recall correctly, for just about the entire history of my old world - save in localized instances in times of disasters like war, plague, or famine - rates of birth vastly exceeded rates of death and for there to be essentially net zero population growth like here in the Village for an indefinitely sustained period would be nearly unheard of.

With that leadup I went ahead and asked the question I’d been thinking of for the past couple of weeks: Had she, as the Village’s future doctor, noticed a correlation between births and deaths, and did she have any thoughts as to the why of it?

Lin’s mood dampened at that. Not the shift to cold professionalism she puts on with most people, but that tiredness I’ve seen a handful of times that makes me wonder if her playful demeanor around friends (and apparently children) is just as much of a mask. Of course she’d noticed a connection. Most people probably have, although whether or not they consciously realize it or would be willing to admit it is a different matter. Lin’s own thoughts on the matter are that it all goes back to the Catacombs, and that being a sort of taboo topic is part of the reason no one talks about it. That and it being a normal enough part of life that no one gives it a second thought as to the why. But here, down in the archive with just the two of us (Norman and Marva were expecting Cass to help with dinner so she’d already left by this point) a little bit of taboo breaking seemed indulgently rebellious.

Lin prefaced the following by saying that this was all just her own thoughts and theories on the matter and she’d never really talked to anyone about it to get another perspective. No detailed investigation. And certainly no proof of anything. Just what made sense to her personally as a way to explain what she’s observed. Lin’s idea is that, save perhaps for outsiders (or perhaps especially outsiders; she goes back and forth on that depending on the day) we’re all shades from the Catacombs. Or rather, that we’re spirits or souls or ghosts or whatever from the Catacombs that have gotten lucky and managed to get a turn at being alive and having a body, and the shades are the ones that have got impatient at waiting their turn so they come up to the surface when they get the chance. They try to drag us back to the Catacombs to make room up here so they might have a chance at getting a turn to be alive.

Somehow (and she’s not sure how) the Blossom Field and its being a requirement for fertility is probably connected to the Catacombs. At any rate, it’s Lin’s belief that women getting pregnant triggers the elderly to fall terminally ill once those pregnancies get far enough along. That it’s not the rains that make them sick, but the coincidence that most couples try to time their conceptions to make the birth happen near the start of a dry season. Sure, there are more cases of mundane sickness during the rainy seasons as a result of people being more cold and wet on a regular basis, but those are rarely more than mild coughs and sniffles. No, it’s her theory that the new spirit trying to enter the world of the living starts forcing an old one out.

After a pause of getting up the nerve of what to say next, Lin confided that was one of the two big reasons she wasn’t in a hurry to get married and have children, despite her age and her parents’ pushing. She can’t stand the thought that by having a child she’d essentially be killing someone in the process. With a sigh, she said she envied everyone else for their ability to just carry on blissfully unaware. She assumes unaware. Better than the alternative thought that they might not care or write it off with a platitude about that being the way things are.

Hoping to maybe comfort her, I pointed out (with the preface that I wasn’t trying to change her mind on life decisions) that maybe the weakening of old souls’ hold on the world happens first to enable conception with the help of the Blossom Field and that it just takes a while for the symptoms of that to set in.

She said that makes sense, but doesn’t explain the timing as well.

A fair point. And her theories do neatly explain a number of things, despite there not really being a way to prove them.

After a brief pause, Lin made a (forced?) chuckle and added that wouldn’t change the other of the two big reasons for not wanting to find a man to marry and have kids with.

I felt a twinge of a grin on one side of my mouth and said that I’m sure Maiko is thankful for that second reason. Lin gave me a look. I defended myself by stating that I possessed working eyes and ears.

From there we shifted to lighter topics. Mostly dinner. There are actually a handful of establishments in the Village that are something like restaurants. No menus though, just whatever the cook is making that day. Being mostly paid in food, I rarely patronize them, but this evening they served our purposes well enough.

I brought up the idea that if she’s going to the outskirts a lot these days, she’d be welcome to stop by the house whenever. Unfortunately, her patient is on the other road out of town. Alas. The recent get-together left me with a taste for more socialization.

<==Previous Next==>

0 notes

shina913 · 2 years

Text

Intersect, Part 6 | KNJ

Intersect, Part 6

Definition: To meet and cross at a point; To share a common area

✫✫✫Intersect Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: KNJ x fem!reader; with appearances by OT7

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Office!AU; enemies to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Word count: 7.1K words

Warnings: office banter; excessive cussing; secret office romance; unrequited love; pining; alcohol consumption; cheesy pickup lines; Joon and YN being so awkward; Yoongi is insufferable (sorry!!!); anxiety attack; lots of crying; public breakdown; self-deprecation; soft-Joon; confessions; cunnilingus; clit-play; praise kink; brief orgasm deprivation; cum-eating; fingering; protected sex; rough sex; dirty talk; multiple orgasms

Summary: You hate him, he hates you. You were both fine staying in your own lanes–until you’re forced to work together on a make-or-break project for your company.

A/N: Phew! Buckle up...because this chapter is quite the ride. That's it. That's the tweet 😅

Namjoon surprises you when he knocks on your door as you were checking on some of Jimin’s initial data analysis on one of your active projects.

“Hey. What’s up,” you greeted him with a smile.

He smiles. “Ah…I just wanted to bring this over to you. It’s the swag-bag from the retreat.” He holds up a white, mid-sized cloth bag with your company’s logo printed on it.

“I was hoping to catch you on the bus home yesterday but didn’t realize that you took the earlier one.”

“Oh…yeah, Celina offered an early bus option for a few people and it turns out that there were a couple open spots so I took one of them.”

Since your company retreats were usually scheduled in the middle of the work week, Celina paid for everyone to take a three-day weekend to recover.

You also took the time to decompress. The earlier bus ride gave you the chance to get some extra peace and quiet at the apartment since the previous weekend was full of surprises with Jungkook staying over for a few days…not to mention how things went down with Yoongi. You needed your own personal retreat at home before getting back into the swing of things.

“Anyway, they gave these out to all the staff after the speeches last night but since you left so soon after yours, I told Celina that I’d hand it to you in the morning instead. Then…after we talked that night, I kind of forgot about it until I was packing my stuff,” he says.

One thing that you did not expect coming off the weekend was striking up a friendship with Namjoon. After he saw you acting out and embarrassing yourself, it was a welcome surprise to you–especially after he didn’t treat you any differently once you got back to the office.

“Wow,” you get up from your chair to see what he had in this mystery bag. “Wonder what they got for us this year?”

You take the bag from him and look in it. The first thing that catches your eye is a mug.

You laughed. “Another mug?”

“Yeah…I love those. It shows our new logo, see?”

“Ahh…” you say as you turn the mug over, inspecting it further.

“Oh good! You guys are together!” Your head snaps up to see Jin walking towards you.

“N-no, we’re not together,” you both say in unison.

“Geez, don’t be so defensive, guys! I just meant that I didn’t have to make multiple trips to give you both the good news…” he pauses for dramatic effect.

“Okay, well, we’re on the edge of our seats, hyung,” Namjoon says.

“I just heard back from the Moonstone Foundation and…” another annoying pause.

Your eyebrows raise in anticipation. “Today, Jin–please!”

“God, you guys are way too serious! Anyway, we won the contract!!!” he finally exclaims unceremoniously.

“Holy shit!” Namjoon gasps while your jaw drops in surprise.

“Yep! That’s a $10 million valuation on that contract with a potential for more if we do good during the base years–it could turn into a total of $25 million,” he grins.

“I know I could have just sent this all in an email but I’m-way-too excited-for-all-this-revenue,” he says rapidly. “Anyway, I’m gonna go tell Celina now! Really nice job guys,” he says before walking off.

You and Namjoon look at each other. “Oh my god—we actually won,” you breathed out.

Namjoon smiled broadly at you while he watched you squeal and bounce around in excitement. You were completely unaware of it but bouncing around caused you to move closer to where he stood. Next thing you knew, you had wrapped your arms around him in a hug, which he returned in response.

Once the excitement had passed and you were finally aware of what was happening, your eyes flew open and you quickly withdrew from him.

You felt the heat suddenly rising to your cheeks. “Sorry–I got uhh…just got carried away there,” you muttered, embarrassingly.

“I…uhhh…I just wanted to bring you the mug…you know—because it’s a cool mug,” he stammers.

“Uh yeah, it does look cool,” you nodded, nervously holding up the mug.

“Uhm, it has many uses, too. You can put your pens in it, paperclips–”

“Coffee…”

“Definitely! Yeah…definitely coffee. And uhm, there’s other cool stuff in there, too–uhm, in there, I mean,” he says as he points to the bag.

You stand in awkward silence for a few seconds. You weren’t exactly sure how to ‘end’ whatever this moment was.

“Anyway, uh, I’m gonna go check my emails,” he says, smiling sheepishly, his left dimple poking out.

“Right! We’ve got lots of work coming up,” you said immediately.

He nods, scratching his head nervously then begins to walk in the opposite direction from where his office was. After a few steps, he stops abruptly, chuckling to himself and turning around to walk in the correct path–murmuring about how he somehow temporarily lost his sense of direction.

******

Things had moved pretty quickly since the bid was won so you didn’t have time to hash out the hug or have any awkwardness linger between you and Namjoon.

Days later, after the initial phone call with the Moonstone Foundation and contract signing, per proposal guidelines, you and Namjoon were approved as co-project directors–with you in the forefront. Namjoon was happy to take a backseat since he had a few large contracts coinciding with this. He was on board more as a deputy and senior advisor.

Today, you had a kickoff meeting with the client on their own turf. Your whole team was in attendance as you waited for the CEO and the rest of the Foundation’s team to walk in to discuss initial planning before officially launching the project.

Just then, she finally walks in.

You all stood up and greeted her with a bow. She smiles warmly and makes a beeline for you.

“YN!”

“Hello, Haejin.”

“My god, you’re so formal,” she giggled. “Come on, give your old friend a hug!”

You smiled before she wrapped her arms around you.

You had partnered with the Moonstone Foundation on a few smaller contracts before landing their largest effort. Haejin was young–about the same age as you were. After her father’s retirement, everyone assumed that her older brother would be appointed as Chairman but to their surprise (and hers), she ended up taking the top job.

Before bidding on this contract, you had disclosed that your friendship with Kim Haejin was strictly business in nature. Admittedly, you did go out for the occasional glass of wine after a hard day but since she was one of the busiest women in the country, she didn’t have much time to devote to girlfriends.

She also had a growing family and this project was the first one that she was directly overseeing after coming off a year-long maternity leave.

The meeting goes smoothly after formal introductions. The Foundation was excited to work with a reputable research firm to help evaluate their cause and grant-making capabilities as well as if there was anything else that they can do to make program improvements. The hope was to create more partnerships internationally and further their reach.

*****

“Hey, YN…c-can we talk?”

Yoongi was out of his sling, standing outside your office.

“Is this about the Human Services contact? I already emailed you a list of my potential available weeks to contribute—which is not a lot since we just won the Moonstone Foundation bid,” you said without lifting your eyes off your screen.

“I just hate how we left things at the retreat, and—“

“Yoongi, what’s done is done. I’m not interested in any closure whatsoever. Besides, whatever we had was just between us. Nobody else knew anything about it so we can just go about our business as if nothing happened.”

“But—“

You exhaled sharply and finally looked up at him. “Look. Let’s just move on. And if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to prepare for—which you should be doing, too.”

He opens his mouth to say something until Celina appears at your doorway right then for a separate matter.

“Hey, YN—can you and Namjoon make sure that you include the project kickoff plans at the meeting later?”

As you turn to face Celina, you get a good look at her. It wasn’t the slightly unkempt hair or the cream-colored pencil skirt that she paired with flats that captured your attention—instead, it was the button-up ‘blouse’ that she wore. Black, pinstriped and ill-fitting…because it was actually a men’s shirt.

And you knew that for sure because it was the same shirt that you bought Yoongi that one morning all those weeks ago, after the first time you slept together.

Your eyes quickly dart back to Yoongi, whose shoulders tense immediately after realizing what you just concluded in your head.

******

“Okay, okay–calm down, breathe, YN…breathe…” Namjoon says as he puts his hands on your shoulders and gives you a firm but still gentle squeeze to try and re-center you.

After blindly agreeing to Celina’s request, you excused yourself and told them that you needed to make a quick client call.

Celina walked away but Yoongi lingered for a bit. You were too stunned to respond while fragments of his explanation replayed in your head.

“I–I didn’t mean for you to find out this way, YN. Cici, I mean, Celina…she-she didn’t want anybody to know. She wanted to keep things strictly professional.”

Deep breath in…

“I’ve been wanting to join the firm for a while but she said it might raise some questions.”

And release…

“But when we’d been broken up for a while, I decided that I still wanted to transfer out of academia, thinking I’d already moved on and this wouldn’t affect my work.”

When he finally leaves, you shut your door and involuntarily message Namjoon on the chat app with an SOS shorthand. He rushed over to your office thinking that there was a problem with the project.

Your chest feels incredibly tight. “I can’t, I can’t! It’s…it’s–she…she–she’s a–she–” You take a sharp but deep breath to center yourself. “It’s her…she’s Cici…”

“Who?”

“Celina…‘C’ is for Celina…” you said in a daze.

“Right–and ‘N’ is for Namjoon…’Y’ is for YN…”

You smack him on his chest. “She’s Cici! Celina Choi! She’s Yoongi’s ex!”

Namjoon’s eyes widened at the realization, dropping his arms from you.

“It’s her…oh my god…it was her all along…” You continued to hyperventilate.

Realizing that there were only a few minutes left before the senior staff meeting, he goes into ‘Logical Namjoon’ mode and tries to refocus–more for your sake. “YN–let’s…let’s calm down, okay? We still have to get through the meeting,” he says softly.

“Shit! The meeting,” you cringe. “I can’t–I don’t know if I can do this, Namjoon,” you started to whimper.

“YN…Let’s compartmentalize for now, hm? And we’ll deal with it later. C’mon, take a deep breath with me. Inhale…”

You do as he says.

“And exhale,” he says soothingly as he gives your shoulders another firm but reassuring squeeze.

“You can do this, YN.”

You puff your cheeks out and release a shaky breath. Inhaled once more and exhaled—more steadily this time, and nodded. “I can do this,” you echoed.

He gives you a once-over, cups your face, then looks you right in the eye. “You ready?”

You sniffled, blinked twice then nodded to assure him.

He gives you a small smile. “Okay, c’mon,” he says softly before proceeding to walk into the conference room while you follow closely behind.

Once you walk in, you see Yoongi take his seat to the right of Celina, who smiles warmly at him while seated at the head of the table.

He nervously tries to make eye contact but you avoid him–grateful that Namjoon enters the room first so you use his large frame as a shield of sorts.

Namjoon takes it upon himself to sit to the left of your director, thereby prompting you to take the seat next to him.

She clasps her hands in excitement before returning them to her laptop’s keyboard to type some notes. “Alright, everyone. Let’s do a round-robin!”

She decides to start from the back of the room, working clockwise.

You break into a sweat trying to hold in your rage until you suddenly feel a warmth over your knee. You look down to see Namjoon’s hand resting on it which makes you peer up at him to find him looking straight ahead.

A calm washes over you as the rest of your colleagues finish their reporting.

Until it was Yoongi’s turn.

“Alright, Yoongi. What have you got for us?” Celina says. She sounded so professional–as if there weren’t a herd of elephants that just barrelled through this room.

Yoongi clears his throat. “So–I had a productive site visit earlier this week. I went to a couple of our client’s grant recipients and, I have to say that it was pretty life-changing for me, personally.”

You groaned inwardly and rolled your eyes then spotted Namjoon side-eyeing you and shaking his head softly at you.

“They actually invited me to serve some of the meals there–and I was caught off-guard a bit but I just went along with it. I thought it was for a good cause. And uh–anyway, there was this little girl and her mother whom I got to have a conversation with. It turns out that they had been coming there regularly and have been really grateful for the grant that the facility received. They said that they were barely surviving moving from one place to another and thought they would have to leave the site when funding ran out. It was uh–” he starts to get choked up. “Very touching,” he says as he wipes a tear away. “I was really moved by it.”

Something in you snaps and before you know it, a laugh slips out from you.

Namjoon whips his head around, followed by the rest of the room.

“I’m sorry, is this a joke?” You said.

“YN…” he says, barely audible.

“What’s that, YN?” Celina says.

“I asked if this was a joke,” you said, then proceeded to giggle uncontrollably.

“N-no. I really experienced it,” Yoongi replies, which elicits a full-on guffaw from you.

“W-what’s so funny, YN?” Your boss asks.

“Oh my god! Can you believe this guy?” You said in between snorts.

Namjoon tries to laugh along with you, albeit uncomfortably.

“So…sensitive! So—so…devastated while serving meals at a soup kitchen. But oh! Stomp on somebody’s heart in real life? Where’s the justice in that? Nowhere! Why? Because he doesn’t get it! He just doesn’t get it! Somebody please–explain it to me! Make it make sense! Because I have no clue what the hell you’re talking about!”

With that, you abruptly stood up from your seat and stormed out of the conference room.

While you march down the hallway, you pass Jimin and he does a double-take. “Hey, boss–the meeting’s done? H-how did it–”

“Not now, Jimin!” You snapped before slamming the door to your office. You drew the blinds and turned your lights off, opting to sit in the dark right between your desk and the file cabinet, hugging your knees to your chest.

After a few minutes, you hear a soft knock.

“A little busy here!” You yell out.

“YN, it’s me.”

Shit. You could already hear the disappointment in his voice after telling him repeatedly that you’d do your best to keep it together for an hour.

“Namjoon…please. I need–I need a few minutes,” you sniffled, failing to keep your emotions in check.

“Alright. Uhm…just…” he rests his palm flat on your door. “I’m here, okay?”

******

After an hour, you turn your office lights back on. You dug your compact out of your purse to assess the damage.

Not too bad, you thought. Thankfully, you had some makeup wipes and some finishing powder to fix that.

You then decided to make things right. You embarrassed yourself, yes. But you would pull up your big-girl pants and apologize to Celina for that ill-timed breakdown.

“Hey, Jisoo–does Celina have a minute?” You asked her assistant.

“Yeah. You can go in and see her,” she said softly.

“Thanks.”

You walk over to the entrance to find her sitting on her office sofa with her feet up, marking up some draft report–still very much wearing that shirt.

You took a deep, steady breath before knocking on her door frame to announce your arrival. She gives you a warm smile and waves you in. As soon as you enter, she points you towards the sofa opposite hers for a seat.

“Celina, I’d like to apologize for my behavior earlier. It was completely unprofessional and it won’t happen again. I don’t know where that came from.”

“Oh, I do. I know exactly where that came from.”

You brace yourself. “Y-you do?” Fuck. Does she know?

“Yep–some guy ripped your heart out and crushed it and you lashed out at poor Yoongi, as being representative of the asshole who did that to you. Am I right?”

Oh, she has no idea. “You hit the nail on the head,” you grimaced.

She hummed. “Well–you can’t do that, YN. I don’t care how much it hurts.”

“Celina…I promise you that this will not happen again,” you said cautiously.

Just then, she decides to swing her legs so they are now touching the floor, then gets up from her seat to sit next to you. She leans in and you prepare for her to admonish you but what she says next surprises you.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

“Uhh…oh-kay,” you said with hesitation.

“A year ago, my boyfriend and I broke up,” she says with a low voice.

Your eyes almost bulged out of your skull but you still tried your best to keep your expression neutral while she continued her story.

“I was absolutely crushed—devastated, even. Did you notice?”

“Huh? Uhm…n-no. Not at all,” you responded–it was the truth. Celina was the consummate professional. You weren’t even sure whether the woman had a personal life at all.

“Exactly! And that’s because if I fall apart, then everything and everyone else around me is affected…everything that we all worked hard for–just because I decided to have a cry at work.”

You purse your lips.

“Do you love him?”

Her question catches you off-guard. “Huh?”

“Do you love him? The guy,” she clarifies.

“Oh–no. No–we never got to that point…” you mumble.

“I think maybe you do,” she says. “Have you two talked lately?”

“N-not exactly–” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck nervously.

“Do it. Talk to him. Because back then, I used to feel that I had to protect my heart, leave a little something for myself. If I perhaps didn’t become too available for him, that maybe…I wouldn’t come off too clingy and it would make him want to be around me more. I kept him at arm’s length for years. But then, what good did that do? He told me that I seemed like a cold-hearted person and that I didn’t want him as much. So he left me,” she says, throwing her hands up.

You were speechless. While making your way to her office, you had a million questions in your head. And now, you suddenly had answers.

“I’ve done my share of sitting in the dark, wallowing in self-pity until one day, I decided that I had enough! So that day, I showed up at his hotel room with dumplings and a dozen tangerines–he loves tangerines–and I just said that I couldn’t stand not having him in my life and I was lost without him.” She shrugs then smiles broadly.

“And…that worked?”

She nods enthusiastically. “I’ve never been happier…God, I’m actually happy! Who’d have thought?”

“That’s…that’s really great, Celina. I’m glad and really happy for you,” you said while smiling through the tears that were starting to build up again.

******

You were quiet for the rest of the day at the office even after repeatedly assuring Namjoon on the work chat app that you were fine. But when you didn’t raise any objections during your team check-in, he knew it was a huge red flag. He went behind your back, texted Jungkook and asked for your address.

You were shocked and confused when he showed up to your door with provisions–wine, a six-pack of beer, and mint-chocolate chip ice cream–which was definitely for you.

He apologized for coming off like a creeper but he told Jungkook that he was worried about you and that your brother was strangely all-too-happy to tell him where you lived. You made a mental note to have a serious talk with your brother later.

After getting over the initial reaction of Namjoon standing at your doorstep, you told him to make himself at home.

“I don’t get it.” you say between gulps of wine.

“What’s there to get? So they’re back together! End of,” Namjoon says as he takes a swig of his beer while you both sit on your couch, surrounded by takeout containers–which you ordered, since he took care of the alcohol and dessert.

“How could I have missed it? Was it staring me in the face this whole time?”

“YN–you can keep asking yourself the same question several different ways for the whole night but you will end up with the same answer.”

He gazes at you while you cradle your glass of wine, blankly staring at your own reflection on the crimson liquid.

“Were you in love with him?”

It was strange that he asked you a similar question that Celina had earlier. But now that you had more time to think about it, the answer wasn’t so difficult.

“I thought that I was…because I admired him. All of a sudden, he was giving me the time of day. That feeling of your idol finally noticing you. And I was all too happy to bask in it…But thinking about it more?” You shook your head, “I think I was just in love with the idea of him. I mean–I was hurt by what he did…but I blame it on my ego and naivete.”

Your eyes turned downcast as you ruminated further at this realization.

“Hey…” It wasn’t his voice that pulled you from daze. You glanced over your arm and found his hand resting on your elbow. You looked up at him and saw his eyes were filled with concern.

“The fact is, you were still hurt. Pain is a real emotion,” he says.

“I guess, yeah,” you conceded.

You were unaware that tears started to drip down your cheeks again. In an instant, the same hand that held your elbow reached up to swipe them away.

You mouthed your thanks then chuckled bitterly. “Ugh. Look at me, I’m such a mess.”

“I am looking at you…and you’re beautiful.”

Your breath hitches as his compliment takes you by surprise.

Namjoon looks like he realizes what he’s just said. “A-and…” he stutters as he scrambles to sit up straight on your sofa. “And smart. You’re passionate about the work you do because you genuinely care. And most of all, you’re real. You’re not afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve.”

You ended the night by paying for a rideshare for Namjoon to get home safely. He had drunk quite a bit of alcohol with you and it was the least you could do for him after he lifted your mood.

You also finally exchanged personal phone numbers—since you’d be working more closely in the coming days. He sent you a text once he walked through his door.

[Namjoon] 10:36PM: Made it home. Thanks again for the ride!

[You] 10:38PM: Thanks for the drinks and ice cream…and cheering me up!

******

“What the fuck did I miss?”

Jimin was walking back from the breakroom after refilling his coffee mug when he finds Mirai standing several feet away across one of the smaller conference rooms watching a scene unfold.

The small conference room, or ‘huddle room’ as it was often dubbed around your office had glass walls and the shades usually weren’t drawn so anybody walking by could see everything that was going on inside. Typically, huddle rooms were made for impromptu meetings. It offered a wider space for small teams to spread out and brainstorm in the same room.

Mirai, who had been standing in the hallway for who knows how long, looked like she was piecing together a very complicated puzzle.

That puzzle was you and Namjoon–in the huddle room together–sitting side-by-side, having a completely civil conversation. Your backs were turned away from the glass wall so you were unaware of your small audience in the hallway.

After Jimin asks his question once more, Mirai is momentarily shaken out of her daze.

“I…I have no idea,” she mumbles in confusion as she tilts her head sideways in wonder.

Just then, Hobi walks by, returning from his programming meeting when he notices Mirai and Jimin. Brows furrowed, he looked over to whatever held their attention before his jaw dropped.

“Wha–Did hell freeze over?” he asks.

Mirai and Jimin absentmindedly shrugged their shoulders.

They all gasp in unison when you and Namjoon suddenly burst out laughing after a comment that he made. You were clutching your mouth, trying to control your giggles but Namjoon continues to pile on to the inaudible joke. You playfully smack his shoulder in an attempt to get back to the task at hand.

All this is happening while your core team members watch from the outside, completely unaware of them watching your every move.

“Did they just laugh together?” Jimin asks.

“And she just touched his shoulder. They must be drunk,” Mirai tries to reason.

“At 10 in the morning?” Hobi asks incredulously.

“Hey, guys–you should probably stop staring. They’re people, not zoo animals!” Taehyung is promptly shushed by Hobi, Jimin, and Mirai.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’m going back to my office to run some regression patterns,” he says dismissively before ducking into his office, which was close to where these three stood.

“Why aren’t they fighting?” Jimin wonders out loud.

“Beats me,” Mirai answers.

“I have to talk to Namjoonie. This is…” Hobi paused to find the right words. “I don’t know what to make of this.”

“They are working together–which is what we should all be doing right about now,” Taehyung yells out from his office

Mirai blows out a puff of air. “Shit on my dreams, why don’t you, Kim Taehyung,” she says as she turns to walk back to her office.

“Yeah, man, where’s the fun in that?” Jimin mutters while walking away.

Hobi proceeds to poke his head into Taehyung’s office. “You seem awfully calm about all this,” he asks suspiciously.

“Hyung–right now, I’m just focused on meeting our preliminary deadlines on this new project.”

Hobi lingers at Taehyung’s doorway, trying to look for any hint of knowledge of why you and Namjoon were getting along all of a sudden.

Taehyung looks up to see his senior eyeing him. He shakes his head. “Was there anything that you needed to assign to me, hyung?”

“Hm, no,” he pursed his lips. “Just…carry on, I guess.” Before walking away, he mutters under his breath “Shit. I gotta see Mirai about changing my wager.”

******

“Would it be helpful to use the same template from the Children’s Health Insurance Program survey?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Does Hobi still have the program specs for that,” you asked.

“Yes, he does. That man files everything away in his hard drive. He even has his preliminary programming backed up from 9 years ago when he was an intern,” Namjoon says while he types away on his computer, drafting an email to Hobi.

It was after-hours at the office and you and Namjoon were tying up some loose ends before you finalized the dates for grantee meetings and site visits–which you were set to present to the client on an upcoming call for approval.

You both sat on your office couch with your laptops, elbows barely touching. You had kicked off your Jimmy Choo pumps and had your feet propped up on the coffee table.

Namjoon smiles at how relaxed you look—a far cry from your sudden breakdown a week ago.

“He and Jimin can put their heads together and make revisions to tailor it for the Moonstone Foundation project.”

“Perfect,” you said as you typed up additional notes and reminders for tomorrow’s task list.

Namjoon had his jacket off, loosened his tie, and had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Since he didn’t have any client meetings today, he came in wearing a pair of Nike retro dunks.

A few seconds later, his phone buzzes with a text. He grabs it off the armrest where he’s had it placed and laughs immediately after he reads it.

“Your brother is really funny,” he says as he types up a response.

You look at him and arch an eyebrow. “My brother? You’re talking about my brother, Jungkook?”

He sets his phone back down. “Yeah. Unless you had other siblings?”

“No. I didn’t know that you guys were friends like that.”

His facial expression changes from mild amusement to worry. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

You shrugged. “I don’t dictate whom my brother can or cannot be friends with. I just wonder what you guys would talk about other than his whole post-grad life crisis,” you said while you turned your attention back to your scheduling application.

“Oh, we talk about a lot of things. Music, gaming, food…you,” he trails off without looking up from his screen.

“Me?” Your cheeks started to heat up as you turned your head to look at Namjoon.

He looks back at you. “I didn’t realize how much you loathed me,” he says with a ghost of a smile.

You were mortified. You would definitely have words with your brother the first chance you got. You might even consider renting a car to drive out to his university to kick his ass in person...tonight.

“I mean…’loathe’ is a bit of an exaggeration,” You laughed nervously as you scrambled to explain.

He laughs. “It’s fine, YN. After being such an asshole to you, I deserve it,” he says.

You were silent for a beat. “Yes, but things are different now, right?”

“Right,” he replies.

“We’ve put all that animosity aside…clean slate all around.”

He nods softly.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve been wanting to work with you for a long time–but after that whole proposal debacle, it set me off on this war path. When I got hired, I was just excited that Celina Choi remotely took any interest in my work. I didn’t think she knew that I existed,” you laughed while you readjusted your seating position, tucking your right foot under your left leg.

Namjoon felt a slight pang of guilt. He wasn’t being completely honest.

“...I looked up your credentials then and thought, ‘Wow, he’s worked with the Working Families’ Health Initiative? I’d love to work with that program, too!’ Then I saw a video of your testimony at Capitol Hill a few years ago–and…I found it very compelling,” you said.

You left out the part where you also thought that those government cameras and lighting did not do his face any justice once you finally saw him in person at the office.

“Since you mention starting off with a clean slate, there’s something I have to tell you.”

You cock your head to the side in interest.

“I actually gave Celina the intel on you–so…I wouldn’t give her all of the credit.”

You quirk your eyebrows in surprise and smiled. “Really?”

He hums. “I don’t know whether you recall that Walden Foundation call–seems like ages ago. There was a guy named ‘Dave’ who was trying to undermine you–”

Your mouth was agape, remembering that exact moment.

He goes on to say that the way you spoke passionately about the work caught his attention. He wouldn’t stop badgering Celina about hiring you since you’d perfectly represent an area they’d been wanting to expand for years.

You were shocked to hear about your mutual admiration for each other early on.

“B-but if you were trying to recruit me, why weren’t you at any of my interviews? Isn’t it customary to interview with all senior staff?”

He smiles uncomfortably. “Well, the straightforward answer is that I wasn’t officially a senior staff member yet so I technically wasn’t even a qualified interviewer.”

“And the complex answer is?”

Namjoon sucks in a harsh breath. “Mayumi and I were…going through some things at the time. We had a huge fight on your first day. I just–was not in a fit state to do the whole meet and greet–which was not your fault at all,” he clarifies. “A-and–the day that proposal had to be revised–”

“When we couldn’t reach you…”

He nods, “Was the day she walked out on me.”

Your heart hurts for him. “Oh, Namjoon–”

“She said I was bringing my work home too much, not spending enough time with her. The last straw was–” he catches his lips between his teeth to stop himself. “Anyway–that’s all over now. I want to apologize again for letting my personal issues affect our working relationship,” he says regretfully.

“We just got off on the wrong foot, that’s all,” you said simply.

You sat there, quietly gazing at each other. Something shifted in the air between you. He stared back–and it felt as if the last few remnants of the wall that he put up had finally broken down, showing you the real Namjoon that you’d been trying to get to know this whole time. It suddenly felt like a tangible force that sucked the air from your lungs.

“Sorry–didn’t know anyone was still in here.”

You both jumped, seeing the night porter standing by your door, making her rounds with her cleaning supplies.

“W-we were just finishing up,” you said in a rush.

“No worries! I’ll work on the other offices down this hallway then come back around,” she smiles then walks over to the office next door.

“I didn’t realize what time it was,” Namjoon says.

“Y-yeah,” you said as you checked your phone. You then get up from your couch, shortly followed by Namjoon. You start to slip your shoes back on. Right foot in, then as you attempt to slide your left foot in, you feel a tingle from the sudden blood-rush through your leg and lose your balance, falling forward towards Namjoon.

“Whoa there,” Namjoon says as he catches you.

You were inappropriately flushed against his chest–his loose tie coupled with the undone top button gives you a glimpse of his collarbone. For some crazy reason, the sight of that small expanse of golden skin made your belly flutter.

You watched his adam's apple bob up and down as he clears his throat. “You’re making a habit out of falling all over me, huh?” You felt his hand tighten his grip around your waist–that flutter, now a full-on swarm.

You scoffed. “Doesn’t seem so bad when you’re always ready to catch me,” you said with a low voice.

A soft laugh rumbles through his chest, making you laugh along with him–breaking the tension.

“That was pretty terrible, huh?”

“It's one of the better comebacks I’ve heard from you,” he says as he releases you. You suddenly felt bereft from the lack of contact.

“We should probably get going before building security kicks us out,” you said.

Namjoon checks his watch. “You know, it’s not that late. Do you want to go and get something to eat?”

After packing up your laptop and picking up your purse, you turn your attention back to him. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”

“Do you want to eat some ramyeon?”

He stared at you with the slightest hint of a smile. You stared right back at him, dumbstruck by his proposition.

Was it a proposition? Your brain was buzzing while you processed it.

“W-what about all that stuff you said about the employee handbook and being careful of whom you fraternize with?”

You swallow hard as he saunters towards you. Your lips parted while your breaths became shallower. You stared up at him while he towered over you. You barely register him raising his hand until his thumb brushes over your lower lip.

“Obviously, I lied.”

You licked your dry lips. He groaned, tilted his head, and sealed his mouth over yours. His lips were surprisingly soft despite his eagerness.

You vaguely register your purse hitting the floor when your hands fly into his hair. You pulled on the strands, directing his mouth to yours while he deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking yours. You could feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest while he held you flushed against him, his hand resting on the curve of your hip, grip tightening on reflex.

“Shit, wait–the cleaner–” you breathed out as you abruptly pulled away. Your lips were swollen and raw.

“Uh–my place is just over three blocks away. I’ll call a car,” he says, equally breathless while pulling his phone out.

“What about your bike?”

“I don’t really give a shit about that now. Do you?”

******

“Fuck, Namjoon!”

You arched your body away from his mouth even as you craved more. He was in complete command of you, pinning you at your thighs while he leisurely licked at your core. His velvet tongue strokes over your clit, making you gasp for an orgasm that he so torturously held back from you.

“Aaaahh…please,” you begged hoarsely as you palmed your breasts and pinched your aching nipples.

“Please what?”

“Make me cum, please,” you whined.

“Just a few more minutes,” he says casually as he plunges his tongue back into your folds again.

“Joon–come on,” you tried to pull away from him, pushing your hand between your legs, desperate to get yourself off.

He nipped at your finger playfully, making you flinch as you withdrew it. “I’ll say when.”

“I fucking hate you,” you growled.

He chuckles. “No, you don’t.”

His tongue flickered over your swollen clit, making you press your head against the pillow from the intensity of the buildup. With a gentle suction and a couple hard licks, you writhed as your core tensed violently–finally letting out a high-pitched, drawn out cry.

And Namjoon didn’t stop there. He circled your entrance with the tip of his tongue and lapped at your throbbing bud until you quickened again. Two fingers, pushed inside you–stroking, curving. You were too sensitive, trying to pull away from the onslaught. But he held you firmly in place, wrapping his warm mouth around your clit, giving it another steady, rhythmic suction.

You came again, mouth dry, crying out hoarsely.

He continued to massage your clit with his thumb, circling and flicking it.

“I…it’s too much,” you panted.

“I just want to make sure that you’re ready for me,” he teased.

“Fuck, how much more ready can I be?” you snapped.

He chuckles, clearly pleased with his work. You felt his weight and warmth leave you.

You heard a drawer opening, somewhere in the corner of your dazed state followed by the sound of foil tearing. The mattress dipped as he returned, his hands, gripping the underside of your knees, yanking you to the center of the bed.

He hovered above you, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. He wraps the other around his waist while he balances his weight on his elbow, which was pressed by your side.

You gazed up at him–eyes so dark and dilated, they were black. You knew at that point, you were staring into the eyes of a man who was past the limits of his control.

Your hands gripped at his biceps, anticipation building.

“Fuck me, Joon,” you begged–hypersensitivity be damned.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” he utters before he sinks his cock into you.

Your mouth was agape while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You felt him enter you inch by delicious inch–you could have sworn you’d just cum again and he hadn’t even started to move.

You gasped. He was hard and so, so deep into you. The connection was…indescribably intense. You’d never felt so taken…possessed.

You clenched around him, relishing the feel of him filling you to the brim.

His hips ground against yours. His entire body steeled, his chest muscles and arms visibly straining as he pulled out to the tip before he slams back into you–hard.

You moaned in pleasure while his chest rumbled with a low growl. “Fuck, you feel so good…”

Tightening his hold on you, he started to fuck you rhythmically, nailing your hips to the mattress with fierce thrusts.

He buried his face in your neck, feeling his hot, steady breaths in your ear. Thrusting harder and faster, gasping heated words that drove you absolutely crazy.

“Do you feel me…I’m gonna cum so hard for you, YN…”

You were so focused on every move, every swivel of his hips, every stroke that had pleasure coursing through your whole body like electricity.

You moaned helplessly, his mouth slanting over yours, capturing it. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving a small trail of crescent indents on his skin.

Another orgasm brewed within you like a surging storm, everything tightening, clenching, squeezing–you were both drenched in sweat, skin slicked, chests heaving.

He shoves one hand beneath your hip, cupping your ass to lift you to meet his thrusts. His cock stroked your aching center over and over.

“Fuck, Joon–I’m…close…”

So close.

“Right there with you, YN.”

You climaxed in a rush that had you sobbing his name, almost pathetically. His body tenses, shuddering as his own orgasm rips through him.

He collapses on top of you, careful not to put his full weight on you, while you both catch your breaths. You have no idea how long you laid like that. Lips grazing over shoulders, necks–it was soothing and calming.

“You’re going to kill me,” he finally manages with his lips at your jaw.

You chuckled. “I didn’t even do anything. I just laid here.”

He lifted his head, catching a glimpse of his fucked-out state. You instinctively brush his hair away from his drenched forehead. The smile he gives you makes your body tingle.

“Okay, now I’m really hungry though,” he says.

You laughed, hugging him.

He nuzzled your nose. “I’ll order some food on the app–maybe we can do that again?”

Your brows lifted in shock. “You can do that again?”

“With you? All night,” he says as he nips at your jawline.

Part 7◥

Thank you for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn't like it so much, I would still like to hear about it 💜

My taglist is open as well so just reply to this post or DM me and I’ll add you.

Taglist: @deepseavibez @dany-but-not-targaryen @scuzmunkie @sweetjellyfishland @joeybeanxbts @amylouisecullen @knjkitten @gcintia @daphnxy @rkivecenter @serendididy @arisud @kalala22 @little-dark-empress @humasthings-blog

[OPEN]

182 notes · View notes

casuallyimagining · 3 years

Text

Fix You (1)

hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader

Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal? Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff Word Count: 3,660 Rating: M Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

Notes: This is for the March project for @thebtswritersclub. The prompt word was ‘adventure’ and I mean, what’s more of an adventure than adopting a pet? Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae, @hoebii and @aroseforyoongi for editing various parts of this for me.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

“That cat got into Rick’s chickens again. Killed a couple chicks. He said he’s going to kill it if he sees it on his property.”

Your dad had said it nonchalantly, barely glancing over his newspaper. Without a second thought, you were out the door. There was no way to be sure, not really, but the sinking feeling in your stomach made you run a little faster down your parents’ driveway.

You could have sworn you saw that cat slinking under Rick’s fence on your walk earlier.

Rick’s property neighbored that of your parents, but you wouldn’t necessarily consider him their neighbor. If you stood on their front porch, you could just barely make out Rick’s house through the stand of trees that served as the property line. Your parents had chosen to let their piece of the world be natural, carving out just enough space for a house and a decent sized yard all those years ago. It had made for some great childhood adventures in the woods: pretending fairies were real, living out your childhood fantasies of being some sort of wizard, making friends with the trees--normal kid stuff.

Rick, on the other hand, had turned his land into farmland, even though he neither farmed nor cared for the land. The vast rolling fields of Rick’s “farm” were mostly bare. He had a pond in one corner on the other side of the property, and he had a small cabin for hunting when game season started. Mostly, though, Rick raised chickens. Annoying things, the chickens were, not unlike Rick himself. It wasn’t uncommon to hear the hens’ incessant clucking from your parents’ house, and the roosters never seemed to shut up.

When you moved to the city to attend college, you were elated to get away from the chickens.

According to your dad, the cat had showed up in the woods a few weeks ago, and it had made an enemy out of Rick almost immediately. The poor thing was skinny--too skinny, like it had been living on the streets for a while--and though its dark fur was ruddy and matted, you could tell it would be a beautiful onyx if taken care of.

As you got closer to Rick’s farm, you heard barking and a sharp yowl, and you hurried in the direction of the sounds, afraid of what you’d find. Rounding the corner of the chicken coop, you gasped in horror.

Rick stood with his back to you, shotgun in his hands. His dog, an old bird hound with caramel spotted fur, had the cat clutched in his mouth, the dog’s teeth sunk directly into the cat’s shoulder. The cat, to its credit, had puffed itself up greatly, its tail nearly double its normal size. It was growling and hissing, and, despite the pain it was almost certainly in, was swiping at the dog with its front claws.

“Call your dog off, Rick.” Your voice was steadier than you thought it would be. You were out of breath from the run over there, and being anywhere near Rick with a gun and his snarling dog made you a little uneasy.

“Fuck off.” The man barely turned his head to you. “Damn cat’s been a pain in my ass since someone dumped it here. It killed four of my chicks.”

“Look at it. Of course it’s going after your chickens. You don’t keep them in their coop. It’s starving.”

“Damn thing should stay at your soft-ass parents’ house if it wants handouts.” Rick cocked his gun, pointing it at the cat. The cat’s copper eyes flashed to Rick at the sound. It looked terrified.

The fact that it knew what a gun was and knew to be afraid of it broke your heart a little bit.

“Call off the dog,” you said again, taking a step toward him, hands splayed out in front of you placatingly. “Calm down. I’ll get the cat out of your hair, and you won’t have to worry about it again.”

“Ain’t going to replace my chickens.” Rick’s voice was gruff, but he lowered the gun.

“I’ll pay for your chickens. Just call off your dog.”

He stared at the cat, the gun clutched in his hands but no longer pointing it at anything. For a second, you thought he was going to sicc the dog on the poor thing just to spite you and make a point. You had a feeling he was the type of person to do that. But after a tense stare down, he whistled through his teeth.

“Drop it,” he commanded the dog. The dog looked to its owner, and he repeated the command. It took a second, but the dog released its bite, and the cat slumped to the ground. Rick regarded the cat with a sneer before turning to you. “Take care of that thing. If I see it on my property one more time, it won’t be so lucky.”

You nodded tensely, and he whistled again. The dog trotted over to Rick’s side and the two walked off. You stared after him for a moment. A pained yowl drew your attention back to the cat.

The cat looked angry, and you didn’t blame it. Its tail was still puffed up, and you could tell that if it hadn’t just been attacked by a dog, its hackles would be straight up. Its copper eyes glared at you, its ears flat against its head. You approached cautiously, and it growled deeply in its throat.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothed, crouching down to make yourself less threatening. “I’m going to get you help. Is that okay?”

The cat hissed at you and attempted to back away. It made two limping steps before collapsing into the mud around the coop.

“That’s alright. It’s okay.” You sighed, unsure of your next steps. You didn’t want to traumatize the cat by coming any closer, and you really didn’t want to risk injuring it further by picking it up and having it fight you.

You looked at the cat, blinking slowly when you accidentally made eye contact with it. You had read somewhere that blinking was a way to show a cat that you weren’t a threat, and though you felt kind of silly, at this point, you were willing to try anything.

“What am I going to do with you, kitty?” you questioned, sitting down in the mud. The cat looked at you curiously, as if asking what the fuck you were doing. “I don’t want Rick to hurt you,” you confessed. “I’d like to take you somewhere safe.”

Truthfully, that was part of the reason why you were even visiting your parents. Your mom had told you about the cat, and how it didn’t seem to be wearing any collar, and while you were visiting them you wanted to try to trap it, either to bring it to live with you, or to take it to a nice shelter where it could get a good meal and hopefully find a nice family.

“Can I take you to the vet, at least?” You really were desperate, talking to the cat as if it understood what you were saying. The cat, to its credit, looked at you, copper eyes staring into your face before it blinked, just once, slowly and deliberately.

When you reached out to it, it didn’t growl.

You stood and approached the cat, doing your best not to make any sudden moves. You scooped it up gently, careful not to jostle his left shoulder too much, and cradled it close to your chest.

The walk back to your parents’ house was slow, but the trip to the vet was even slower.

It was a weekend, so the vet in your parents’ sleepy little suburb was closed. You had no choice but to pack your bags back up and make the trek home to the city to take the cat to the 24/7 emergency veterinary hospital.

You tapped your hand on the steering wheel. Traffic wasn’t usually this terrible on a weekend, but there was some sort of sporting event happening, so of course, all the roads into the city were clogged.

Stopped at a red light, you spared a glance toward your passenger seat. The cat laid on his side--it was a him, your mother had confirmed--his breathing labored. You could tell he was still on edge. His tail was still puffed up like a cat-of-nine-tails, and he kept eyeing you warily. But he had let you wrap him in a blanket and carry him to your car, and he had stayed on the seat, almost like he knew it was the safest place for him.

“Almost there, kitty,” you mumbled, changing lanes, finally free of the congestion. “Hang on just a little longer.”

Thankfully, the vet wasn’t busy, and you were able to get in with the assistant almost right away. You explained everything that had happened to her as she examined the cat, tutting slightly as she checked his shoulder.

��There are some punctures, but nothing that’s too worrying. I can bandage it and give you some antibiotics.” The assistant pulled her hand back as the cat swatted at her for touching his shoulder a little too forcefully. “Do you know if he has an owner? It would be helpful to know his shot records.”

You shook your head. “He just showed up in the woods one day.”

“We’ll get him a full round of vaccines, then, too.” Copper eyes met yours, and for a second, you thought you saw a look of concern cross them. But then he blinked, and it was gone.

The vet ordered an MRI, and thankfully, because it was a large veterinary hospital connected with the local university, they were able to do it the same day. So you ended up staying at the vet for two hours as they anesthetized the cat and did the scan. While the cat was waking up, the vet called you into the exam room.

“We checked for a microchip, and there was none,” the vet--Dr. Jung--informed you, his brow furrowed. “Based on the cat’s malnutrition and the condition of the coat, it’s likely he was a stray for at least a few months.” You nodded. The poor cat. “We should have the MRI results soon. I’ll give you a call in a few hours once I get a chance to read them. Normally, since he’s a stray, we would contact our foster network to see if anyone would be able to take him in. But since you brought him in-”

“I’ll keep him,” you said quickly. You were planning on it anyway. Just because he was hurt didn’t mean you were willing to give him up.

“Good.” Dr. Jung smiled at you. “My assistant is wrapping his shoulder now, and we’d like to just monitor him for a few more minutes to make sure he’s coming out of the anesthesia well, but you should be clear to take him home after that.” He placed a box on the table between you. “This is Clavamox. One millilitre twice a day for seven days. I don’t think he’ll develop an infection, but since he was so dirty, I think it’s probably better to be safe.” You nodded and pocketed the box. “We also gave him a rabies shot while he was here. It’s standard because he was bitten. If you notice any symptoms, please call us immediately. Once he’s feeling better, we can get him the rest of the vaccines he needs.”

You nodded. This was a lot all at once. And you didn’t even know what you wanted to call the cat yet.

Dr. Jung seemed to be able to tell you were feeling overwhelmed, because he offered you a comforting smile and patted your shoulder. “I’m going to go check on him. You can come if you want.”

As soon as you entered the room, groggy copper eyes were on you. The poor thing looked stoned out of his mind, but there was recognition there, and that gave you some comfort. At least he wasn’t glaring at you anymore. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped his shoulder, so he had a bandage from his upper left front leg wrapped all the way around his chest and up around his shoulders.

“What are we going to do with you, kitty?” you questioned softly, reaching out and gently placing your hand on his head.

After checking the cat’s vitals one last time, Dr. Jung let you leave.

He was limp in your arms as you carried him into your apartment, still a little drugged up from the anesthesia. The whole way back to your apartment, he had sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window like a drunk, moody college student.

“It’s up to you if you want to stay, kitty,” you told him, gently laying him down on your couch as soon as you kicked your shoes off. Of course you wanted to keep him. You had grown attached to him in the few hours you had been with him. But if he was miserable, you were willing to help him find somewhere that was more suited for his needs.

He tried to stand, succeeding only long enough to give a dramatic wobble before collapsing back into the overstuffed cushion. While he was completely recovered from the anesthesia, Dr. Jung had warned you that the cat might be feeling the side effects for a day or so. You reached out to pet him, but his copper eyes slanted into a glare, and you pulled back.

Assuming the cat was hungry, you left him alone and headed into the kitchen. You had some chicken in the fridge, and you thought maybe he would enjoy some fresh meat he didn’t have to steal. You weren’t sure when his last real meal was, so you wanted to go easy on his digestive system until you knew he was feeling better. You’d have to stop and get cat food at some point, but for now, chicken would do.

You did your best to trim off all the fat from the chicken breast. You knew he wouldn’t mind eating it--cats ate weirder things from fresh kills, after all--but you figured with how thin he was, lean meat would probably be better. Carefully, you cut it up into small, easy-to-chew chunks and put some on a plate, wrapping the rest and putting it into the fridge for later. You used a dropper to evenly spread the required dose of the antibiotics onto the chicken in hopes that it would make it easier to give him the medicine.

Returning to the living room, you noticed that the cat hadn’t moved aside from doing his best to curl up as small as possible in the corner of the couch. You tried not to make eye contact with him as you pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it on the cushions. You weren’t particularly keen on having raw chicken all over your furniture, but you sat the plate on the blanket anyway. There was no way you trusted the cat to be able to jump down off your couch at this point.

“Here’s some chicken, kitty.” You gestured toward the plate, and he eyed it warily, unmoving. You supposed he would feel more comfortable eating if you weren’t in the room. “Don’t leave it too long--it’ll go bad. I have to go do some work. I’ll be in my office if you need me. It’s just down the hall.” As you stood up, you paused. You were talking to a cat. You were talking to a cat as if it could understand exactly what you were saying.

Maybe your parents were right. Maybe you had been living alone for too long.

Your mother had suggested you get a hybrid when you first moved to the city--a nice, loyal, protective one, like a German shepherd hybrid or a golden retriever--but you had never gone further than passively looking.

You were happy for the hybrids. A majority of them were still owned, but they could move about their lives freely and without question. It was illegal to treat them as servants, and all ownership had to be consensual, though you weren’t sure how well those rules were enforced. You didn’t really understand how someone could just own a hybrid--they were people, after all, even if their DNA was a little altered. It was weird to you, owning another sentient being like that.

Their lives were certainly much better than they had been. Some hybrids were naturally occurring, but others--a majority of them--had been created by rich and powerful individuals and the government in secret during some shady human experiments in the early 20th century. And, of course, because they were experiments, it created a whole host of problems regarding rights and discrimination.

But despite all the improvements, there was still a long way to go. There was nothing wrong with owning a hybrid if it was consensual, but that didn’t mean you were necessarily comfortable with it.

After a few hours of sitting at your desk working on your most recent graphic design project for work, you turned away and stretched. If you had to stare at the color chartreuse for ten more minutes, you thought you would go blind. It was time to check on the cat anyway, and you wanted to make sure you threw away any chicken that was left on the plate you had given him so he wouldn’t get sick.

When you entered the living room, you were immediately confused. The cat was gone, but so was your blanket. The plate was still on the couch, almost exactly where you left it, but it was entirely empty. Wonderful. You had taken in some sort of Houdini cat.

You grabbed the plate and put it in the sink, trying to look for your blanket as you went. You found it when you returned to the living room, the corner sticking out from under your TV stand. There was just enough space between the bottom shelf and the floor for the cat to fit under, and apparently he had taken the blanket with him. You couldn’t really blame him--it was April, and it was late evening, and your floors were still a little chilly.

“Hey kitty?” you called, bending down to see if you could see him under the shelf. You had thought about it while working, and at this point, you were just going to lean into the whole ‘talking to the cat like he’s a person’ thing. “It’s starting to get late. I’m going to go get ready for bed, okay?” You could just barely see his copper eyes hidden all the way under the TV stand. His pupils were blown wide to capture all the ambient light they could. “You can explore or whatever you’re comfortable with tonight, but please don’t ruin my stuff. Please be a good kitty.”

He blinked once and continued to stare blankly at you.

“Okay, well… if I don’t see you, goodnight.”

You stood and headed off to your bathroom to start your nightly routine. It only took you about a half an hour, but you were soon laying down in bed with your book. You had started it a few days ago, but you were hooked, and you were already almost done with it. The author had managed to somehow insert a space alien robot into today’s modern digital age, and you found it fascinating. You would never look at social media and influencers the same way after reading this book.

It was cozy in your room with the little bedside lamp on, snuggled up in your blankets. Your bed was soft--it was one of those that you could change it using a remote to fit your mood and preference, but you almost always preferred it soft--and you had plenty of blankets and pillows to make it comfortable.

You only had a few pages left when you noticed it, the shadow lingering in the hallway, slowly getting closer to your open bedroom door. It started out against the wall across the hall. When you next looked up after glancing down to your book, the shadow had moved to your doorway. He even had turned his head away like he was pretending it was a coincidence that he had ended up in your room.

He was walking with a slight limp, which was unsurprising given the bandage and the fact that he was attacked not even 12 hours before. He was much more lucid than he was when you first brought him home, though you could tell he was still a little groggy. You didn’t say anything to him--you figured if you did, he would bolt, so you let him do what he wanted.

After a few minutes--maybe 15 or 20--you closed your book quietly, careful not to startle the cat. You glanced at the doorway and didn’t see him, so you put your book on your nightstand and turned off the light. It took you a second, but you snuggled down into the blankets, pulling them tightly around you. You were just about to drift off when you felt it.

Something landed gently on your bed by your feet. It paused for a moment before slowly making its way up the bed to your head, its gait uneven. When it got to the other pillow, it laid down. You risked opening an eye then, and were met with copper eyes staring back at you.

He watched you warily, as if waiting for you to yell or kick him off the bed. When you didn’t, his eyes narrowed, and he slowly allowed himself to lay down, his head on his paws, curled up as best as he could be.

You fell asleep to the sound of him snoring lightly.

As always, your feedback is appreciated. Feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or thoughts about the series. I’d love to hear from you!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #hybrid yoongi #hybrid yoongi x reader #bts hybrid au #hybrid au #thebtswritersclub #yoongi hybrid au #hybrid bts #hybridyoongi #yoongi hybrid #yoongihybrid #yoongi angst #bts angst #min yoongi angst

1K notes · View notes

erysium · 3 years

Photo

Visiting those cool rocks 🌞🌚

This was drawn with an XP-Pen Innovator 16 tablet, which their team kindly sent me to review!

I’ve been using it for a few different projects over the last few months, and wanted to note some issues I had - but overall I’ve had a positive experience!

My biggest critique of this tablet is difficulty of setup and functionality with older laptops. However after jumping through some hurdles to get it working on my newer laptop, it feels like an overall nice, well-priced, lightweight and portable alternative to Cintiq-style monitor tablets.

Although it comes with several adaptors for different regions, it does require an HDMI port for whatever computer you’re using it with. I bought 2 adaptors for both my older and newer Macbook laptops to test it out, and it’s been working well on my new laptop. My older laptop is up to the required technical specs listed on the XP-Pen website, but unfortunately it seems like it was just really incompatible with running this tablet. Set up was initially very difficult and the tablet software kept making the laptop freeze and require a restart in the middle of the process, or making the keyboard and trackpad input stop functioning (and require a restart to get it working again.) Eventually we figured out it was only usable with the screen display mirrored from the laptop onto the tablet, and even then there were some strange glitches/usability issues, with the brush randomly being offset by a few centimeters, and randomly not making brush strokes.

However, almost none of this is a problem when I was able to test it on my newer 2018 laptop. Set up was much smoother, no strange freezing or problems with the laptop due to the tablet, and the 2nd screen display works properly. It’s not as straight-forward or customizable as wacom products I’ve used before, but it’s functional. The display is very crisp, matte, and the colors felt accurate to me with no adjustments needed, and the button design is unobtrusive. After a few months use I’ve also noticed that the display makes a high pitched buzzing/static-y noise when the brightness is turned up above 75% - I usually have the brightness set lower than that if there’s no direct sun light nearby, but could see it being annoying for some people. I noticed it already had a scratch from the pen after a few days use, and also after a couple months of use there is a (hardware?) problem where the screen randomly blacks out/glitches when I accidentally nudge the desk or the tablet with my wrist. It just needs to either be restarted or physically shaken a little to get it working again - no big problem, but I hope it doesn’t develop into any bigger issue.

On the newer laptop, my main note is that the pen buttons are not as functional as I’d like. I use the pen button constantly to erase with Wacom products, and on those it switches back instantly to the previous tool when you release the button. That doesn’t seem to be possible with XP-Pen - after pressing the button for erase you have to click back in the toolbar for your previous tool, or use the hotkey to go back and forth. The button also doesn’t work reliably. Not a big problem, but I do notice it slowing down my workflow when these little things add up.

The small stand this tablet comes with doesn’t have many options for the angle, but I have it propped up additionally with a few books behind it, and it’s functional for me that way. The tablet is also light enough to be held in your lap if that’s more comfortable, and having that option to change things up has been really nice. Drawing is pleasant and feels accurate, the screen isn’t either slippery or too rough to the touch, and the size feels nice. My favourite thing here is that the drawing surface has never heated up as badly as Cintiqs and iPads both do, so it’s a little more feasible to hold in your lap in that aspect!

Overall - some minor functionality issues, but a good experience so far for a well-priced monitor style tablet, and I’ll continue to use it! 🌿

#I went to joshua tree for the first time recently !!#art #artists on tumblr #illustration #witch #angel #digital #xp-pen

1K notes · View notes

meetmyblondemuffins · 3 years

Text

Movie Antics

Warnings: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex

“Tickets for two,” I said enthusiastically to the man standing behind the glass of the old, worn ticket booth. I heard an exaggerated sigh coming from the right of me. Looking over at Sirius, I raised my brows and jutted out my bottom lip, attempting to make him feel somewhat guilty. I squeezed his large hand and further intertwined our fingers. “You’ll live, Siri. It’s only a couple of hours.”

I’d been dying to see this new independent film that had been released a few weeks ago. I had been putting off watching it for some time now because I wanted to watch it with Sirius. I could tell he would’ve preferred being left behind. The entire ten blocks we walked from the cinema he drug his feet like a child who was being forced into a dentists’ office. I was surprised he didn’t throw himself on the concrete; kicking and screaming. Although he didn’t throw a complete tantrum, he did try making up a thousand excuses as to why he absolutely couldn’t bear to see one second of this ‘horrendous-looking film’.

It started from the second we stepped out of the front door and into the chilly breeze of a typical, dreary London day.

“Look how gloomy it is. It’s bound to rain—we should stay in tonight.”

“It’s gloomy every day, Sirius. And besides, I brought an umbrella.”

“But… why walk allllll the way to the cinema in the cold when we could snuggle up in a perfectly warm bed?” I giggled at his suggestion.

“Yeah, I’m sure all you want to do is snuggle up in bed.” I knew that for a fact, Sirius wanted much more than to lie in bed when he’d already try to rid me of my clothing minutes before leaving the house.

He seemed more sex-driven the past few days than I’d seen him before. Everywhere we went, he was ready to go; whether he spontaneously suggested the idea while lounging around at home, or in complete public. Refusing a cluster of his many advances always guaranteed nothing less than spectacular sex later on. It’s like all of his built-up sexual tension was released all at once; It was fantastic.

As soon as we bought our tickets and concessions, we walked into the dimly lit theatre. Scanning the rows of chairs from left to right, I noticed that not a single chair in the entire room was occupied. I supposed nobody was up for a film on a greyer-than-usual Sunday afternoon.

Sirius walked to the first row that was closest to the entrance, leading me with my index finger wound around his. We sat towards the middle of the row.

I would’ve preferred to sit closer to the front, if even just a few rows, but I decided to cut my pouting, child-like boyfriend a bit of slack. Sirius slouched down in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest as the lights dimmed to complete darkness. Immediately following, lights of the previews that covered the far wall flooded the room. It was almost blinding.

Looking over at the silhouette of Sirius’s profile, the glow of the projection outlined the miserable look he had plastered on his face. I almost felt bad for dragging him here, but on the other hand, I think he was being a drama queen about the entire situation.

Reaching over the popcorn that I had resting in my lap, I brought the armrest that was separating us to a vertical position so that I could scoot closer to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and whispered into his ear, his flyaway curls brushing against my cheeks.

“I really appreciate you being here, you know.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, lightly kissed my temple, and rested his cheek on the top of my head. So he wasn’t completely resenting being here after all.

Sirius and I always did things for each other that we didn’t particularly want to do. We wanted each other to be happy, and it made our relationship stronger as a whole. I was awoken in the middle of the night to him leaving to go prank students with the other marauders and he went to nearly abandoned cinemas to watch films that he had no-to-negative feelings towards. It balanced out evenly.

Halfway through the movie (and also the bag of popcorn), Sirius’s arm that was resting across my shoulders made its way down to my hip. He leaned in to whisper into my ear.

“It’s not too late to get out of here. We could go out to a nice dinner, go for a romantic stroll through the park,” he drug out the ‘a’ in park, “anything. Anything you want.” Turning my full torso toward him, I cocked my head to the side as to say ‘why, why do you do this to me, Sirius Orion Black’. His expression was originally full of hope—hope that I thought this movie was as terrible as he’d predicted before we’d gotten here.

“Anything, huh?” His eyes filled with glee. But his face dropped immediately as I said:

“Well, I want to stay here.”

He went back to slouching in his chair, his head meeting the back of the headrest. I couldn’t stand seeing him act like this anymore. There was no way I was leaving this cinema until the film came to an end; but perhaps I could offer him a deal.

“If you stay until the end, I’ll do whatever you want afterwards.” A smirk form across his lips and I knew exactly what he had on his mind.

Moments later, I was once again engulfed in the film. The main characters had defied their near-impossible chances of being together, and the romantic/sexual portion came to its peak. I felt Sirius’s lips sneak below my earlobe and begin a trail to my collarbone. “I said afterwards, don’t be so eager,” I said placing my hand on his chest in an attempt to stay focused on what was happening between the characters.

“C’mon, even these poor bastards on screen are enjoying themselves. It’s like they’re mocking me.”

“Well I’m enjoying myself. And what, is ‘fucking in a movie theatre’ something you were planning to cross off of your bucket list before you die?”

“Well it wasn’t before but,—“ I cut him off with a look of disapproval. “There’s not anybody here, we’re sitting in the back. This is perfect!”

Before I could object, Sirius crashed his lips into mine. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. I’d caused him to suffer—or at least act like he was suffering—for a few hours and I suppose I owed this to him. I wouldn’t be missing out on the movie much. It was like I was experiencing what they were doing, but they weren’t in an empty cinema, it was a bit more romantic on their end. However, I didn’t mind much.

Our kiss deepened as his tongue brushed over my bottom lip before it entered my mouth, exploring every corner. His hand lightly cupped my cheek.

I felt Sirius’s fingertips lightly brush over the slightly thin material of my trousers that separated the pads of his fingers from my inner thigh. In a swift manoeuvre, his fingertips slid under the waistband of my trousers and pulled them down, then danced along my skin, igniting sparks as they made their way to my heat. His middle finger slipped past the side of my panties and made firm circles over my clit.

I’d quickly decided not to make this about me. I’d wanted to show Sirius just how much I appreciated him being there, even if I’d practically forced him to.

I palmed his hardening member through his pants and dropped to my knees in front of him. As soon as I unbuttoned and unzipped his skin-tight black jeans, pulling his boxers down slightly, his erection sprung upright, slapping against his stomach. I bit my lip and looked up at him through my lashes lustfully. He shut his eyes, bracing himself for the warmth of my mouth wrapped around him.

I let the tip of my tongue flick over his slit, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum.

“Fuck, don’t tease,” he groaned, loud enough for only me to hear over the booming cinema surround sound. The flat of my tongue glided over his head as I took the shaft into my hand and began stroking, feeling the veins on his thickness. With each bob of my head, I allowed him to venture deeper and deeper into my throat, hollowing my cheeks until I felt the need to gag. His fingers became entangled in my hair, but he let me go at my own pace. I altered my speed and pressure often which made it difficult for him to stifle his moans.

His hand gripped my hair tightly and he threw his head back onto the head rest, his mouth hanging open. I could taste the familiar flavor of his cum spread across my tongue and slide down my throat.

I stood up from the floor and lifted the armrest on Sirius’s left, allowing us more room. I straddled his lap backwards, his chest pressing against my back. The only thing separating us was the thin lace material of my panties. His right hand travelled up my torso, grazing my rib cage and kneading my breast gently. His left hand snaked around my thigh and pulled my panties to the side. He traced shapes roughly around my centre as I let my head fall back to rest on his shoulder.

He nipped at the sweet spot on my neck and I let out a light moan. As good as his fingers felt against me, I need more. I lifted myself up a bit and reached between us to position his hard cock at my entrance. Slowly lowering all the way back down, I gave myself time to adjust to his large size as he filled me to the brim. He continued massaging my throbbing nerves and I rested my hand over his, getting him to apply more pressure. Arching my back against his chest, I could already feel myself tightening around him and he felt it too. I could feel every muscle throughout his body contract. Every time I had sex with Sirius, it always felt like the first time.

Slightly angling myself to find my g-spot, I let out a muffled whimper and shut my eyes tight when I felt his head brush my

G-spot . I slowly began going up and down on his throbbing dick, grinding against him every time my ass met his crotch. With every motion, I felt my knees weaken a little more each time.

Sirius’s breath became harsh and uneven on my neck and I could tell that he couldn’t hold it much longer. Every individual muscle in my lower body starting in my toes began to tighten in a wave, one after another. The pleasure crept up into the pit of my stomach and I reached my high, becoming a shaking mess in Sirius’s lap. His warm load coated my walls and his fingers dug into my thighs, leaving light scratches.

Once I recovered from my orgasm, I noticed the credits of the film beginning to roll and the lights were returning to their original brightness. I collapsed back into my seat and Sirius struggled to reposition himself back into his jeans. I laughed at the sight of him.

“What?” he questioned continuing to fumble with his jeans.

“Maybe if your pants weren’t so tight Mr Black, you wouldn’t be having such a tough time right now,” I mocked him.

“Whatever, I just hope I don’t have as tough of time trying to get them off when we get home,” he grinned, “you did say afterwards, didn’t you?”

277 notes · View notes

teshamerkel · 3 years

Photo

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 26] (29 Pages)

<< First | < Previous | Next >

The trio recuperates, and Nia discovers that her aura has changed.

TW: Panic Attack

Nia wakes up slowly, a heavy fog of exhaustion making her thoughts feel thick and syrupy. She’s warm and comfy, so she shifts in her bed and considers going back to sleep as she stretches her legs—only to wince when the motion pulls painfully at her skin.

Nia squints her eyes open against bright sunlight, lifting her head to blink down at her body, where bandages are wrapped around her limbs. Shiny patches of ointment with a sharp medicinal tang peek out from under the bandages and slick down her fur. Oh jeez, she really got banged up. No wonder stretching hurt.

Nia slowly shifts in her nest to get a better look around the room. It’s…pleasant. Warm, neutral tones and wooden floors. Large windows with shades pulled halfway down, leaving rectangular patches of sunlight slanting across the small space. Plants are potted around the room, offering a splash of color, and little cabinets are installed into one side of the room. She’s alone, lying in a too-large nest.

Then the door creaks open, and Nia looks over to see a familiar little ball of feathers squeezing through the gap.

“Junie!”

Junie jumps, wide eyes snapping up to Nia. “Nia! You’re awake!”

The rookidee hops awkwardly to Nia’s side, and Nia tries to sit up from her nest. She immediately regrets it, groaning from the painful pull at her burns and the ache in her ribs, not to mention the way her head spins nauseously. Her throat feels strained, and she can’t hold back a sudden coughing fit that burns her throat and lungs.

Right, the fire. She must have inhaled a lot of smoke.

“Whoa! Slow your roll, chickadee!” Junie flutters closer and guides her to back into the nest until she’s lying down again.

Nia slowly manages to control her hacking fit, but her body aches even more terribly than when she’d woken up. Ow.

“Are you okay?” Nia finally manages to croak.

Junie blinks at her. “I should be asking you that! You’re the one who’s been out the longest!”

Nia stares back at the little bird, brow furrowed as memories of the fire slowly trickle back into her mind. The building was coming down, and Junie was still trapped inside so Nia went in after her. There was so much fire, surrounding her in choking heat and ash. Then there was that debris she couldn’t move to free Junie, the wave of dizzying, wrenching despair falling over her, making her feel hopeless…

She’d been so sure they were going to die.

Nia rubs at her eyes and takes a few deep breaths. Well, clearly they made it somehow. She feels lightheaded with relief. Or maybe just lightheaded in general. Tobias would—

Tobias, running towards them through the fire, panic on his face. His gaze flicks up, and Nia follows it, her heart dropping as she sees the ceiling above them crumble—

“Tobias! Is he okay?!” Nia gasps.

“Yup!” Junie chirps. “A bit banged up, a few broken fingers, but otherwise grumpy as usual!”

Nia has to stop herself from bolting upright in her nest. “A few broken fingers?!”

Junie waves her off with a wing. “Just fractured. He says he’ll be fine in a couple days.”

Nia doesn’t point out that the charmander is probably lying to put up a tough front, instead trying to calm her pounding heartbeat. He’s alive, at least. And relatively okay. Nia catches sight of Junie’s leg, wrapped up tight in a cast and sticking out awkwardly, and her stomach sinks. She wishes they were all doing better than just ‘okay.’

The rookidee follows her gaze and laughs. “Don’t look so upset! I’d be a lot worse off if not for you!”

Nia meets Junie’s eyes, frowning. The action pulls at a burn on her face. “What do you mean?”

Junie pauses, tilting her head. “You don’t remember? I got trapped in the rubble and you refused to leave me—which was stupid, by the way—and the ceiling came down on us.”

Nia shivers, once again thinking of the wave of crushing stone bearing down on them. The overwhelming instinct to protect as she threw herself over Junie, and then—

Nothing.

“Nia?”

Nia realizes she’s not breathing, sore fingers trembling and clutching at her legs. She swallows and tries to shove away the lingering fear.

“How did we make it out of there?” Nia rasps. She knows Pokémon are durable, but she thinks even they shouldn’t have survived that much force crushing them. Junie especially, delicate, hollow-boned thing that she is.

“You saved us!” Junie chirps, hopping stiltedly in front of Nia to make eye contact.

Nia leans back. “Me?”

“Yeah! When you covered me, I saw this bright flash of blue, like fwahhh!” She spreads her wings. “I passed out after that, but Toby saw it too! We think it looked like your aura.”

“My aura?” Nia echoes, a hand drifting to her chest.

She couldn’t have done that. All she’s been able to do is channel her aura through her body and make little semi-solid forms in her hand, and she even sucks at that. She’s never been able to spread it out or project it away from her body, and she’s certainly never made it strong enough to stop something as heavy as that stone ceiling.

Junie just shrugs. “You should ask Toby. He seems to know more about it.”

“Where is Tobias?” Nia asks, looking around.

“I made him go get us some actual grub, since I’m tired of hospital food and can’t carry anything on my own. Oh, he’s going to be so mad when he sees you woke up without him!” Junie laughs, not sounding at all concerned about the charmander’s fury. “He’s been really worried!”

At that, Nia suddenly wonders if she really did die in that fire. Tobias? Worried about her? Sure, he’s made sure she didn’t get left behind in dungeons and he’s been trying hard to be patient with her, but she finds it difficult to believe he’d be openly concerned over her once she was in the clear from dying.

“Don’t look so surprised!” Junie says, somehow managing to smirk even with a beak. “It’s adorable, actually. He’s been pretty much glued to your side. Even sleeps next to you.”

Nia blinks, flustered heat rising up under her fur. Junie has to be joking. But then she casts her gaze to the side, realizing that she’s not in a single too-large nest--instead, her own nest seems to bleed into another one about the same size. Her nose is still raw from the smoke, but she can smell the familiar sun-baked stone scent of Tobias lingering on the straw.

“I knew he cared about you!” Junie chirps, hopping again to settle next to Nia’s head, looking comfortable enough that Nia guesses the rookidee has also been sleeping here.

Nia thinks again about how genuinely terrified Tobias looked in that split-second they’d made eye contact in the fire.

“Did Tobias pull us out?” Nia asks, not wanting to strain her throat but too curious not to know.

“Mhm. Dug through the rubble to find us and tried to carry us out.”

“Tried?”

Junie shifts, a note of unease in her voice. “Well...he asked me to fly, but I…I couldn’t. So he tried to carry us. But I guess he passed out? Another rescuer must’ve found us in time.”

Nia’s gut twists uncomfortably. She wishes Tobias were here so she could look him over herself, make sure that he’s really okay and not just lying to the doctors or something.

He really did all of that for them? Dug through the rubble to find them, tried to carry them to safety? Has been worrying about her, been voluntarily sleeping by her? Nia can hardly believe it. She wonders if it’s strange that she finds him risking his life to save theirs more believable than him willingly watching over her and worrying for her well-being. Probably not. The charmander’s a grump, but he takes his responsibilities as a Seeker seriously.

Nia stares thoughtfully at the nest beside her, slowly settling back down into her own. Junie resumes her chatter, saying something about them being moved to this room by themselves once Nia was stable enough. Nia hums at the appropriate times, trying to listen even though she feels fatigue creep up on her again, making her eyes heavy. She’s just so tired.

Nia doesn’t know when she crosses the line between thought and dozing, but she wakes up to the smell of delicious, savory food. Well, that and a hushed, heated conversation.

“What do you mean she woke up?!” Tobias hisses.

“She woke up! Must’ve been waiting for you to leave.” Junie teases.

The following growl, quiet and threatening, means Nia needs to wake up and play peacekeeper. She grumbles, “You two are impossible.”

The arguing stops, and Nia slowly pushes herself up onto her arms, remembering how painful it was to sit up last time. She yawns and squints at the late-afternoon sunlight pouring into the room.

Junie is grinning, and Tobias is watching her with an unreadable expression. Nia offers the two of them a smile that she hopes isn’t as strained as she feels. She doesn’t realize how tense Tobias is until he relaxes, shoulders slumping and face softening. Oh.

Maybe he really was worried.

“So what’d you bring? Something good, I hope!” Junie chirps, pecking at the boxes of food at Tobias’ side. He bares his teeth and snatches them out of her reach.

“Who says I got you anything?”

“Me! Because I’m the one who suggested it! And I almost died!”

“You’re gonna wish you did if you don’t back off,” Tobias growls.

“Oh, please, like you’d kill me in front of Nia.” Junie huffs.

“You wanna try me?”

“Do it, coward! You won’t!”

Nia laughs. She can’t help it. She’s just so relieved they’re all relatively okay, so she laughs, even if it hurts, and she can’t seem to stop laughing, leaning forward to hold her stomach. When she finally starts to get a hold of herself, she wipes tears from her eyes and sits up to see Junie and Tobias both staring at her. Oh no. Another burst of giggles bubble from her chest, and this time when she laughs, Junie joins in. Tobias doesn’t, but he does look like he’s fighting off a smile, rolling his eyes.

Nia holds out her hands and makes a grabby motion. “J-Just give me the dang food. Clearly you two can’t be trusted to share nicely.”

Tobias huffs but hands over the tasty-smelling boxes. Nia lays them out in the nest and opens them, feeling her stomach growl at the sight. Some kind of rice in one box, and vegetables in another, swimming in a deep brown sauce with chunks of something that looks startlingly like meat but must be a vegetarian version, like the hot dogs they’d had.

“Oh! Hang on! I saw the nurse restock earlier.” Junie flutters into the air, wobbling as her cast throws her off-balance, and then goes to one of the room’s cabinets, opening it and pulling at something inside with her beak.

Tobias leaps up and hurries to her side, hissing, “You’re gonna drop ‘em! Stop!”

The two wrestle over what turn out to be plates and utensils, eventually making it back to the nest without dropping them so they can each scoop some food onto their own dish. Nia digs in, practically drooling over the flavor, and watches Tobias and Junie do the same, feeling some sort of peace and normalcy wash over them. Well, as normal as they can get when Nia’s aching all over, Junie can’t seem to get settled with her broken leg, and Tobias keeps dropping his fork due to his bandaged fingers.

Between bites Nia manages to ask, “How long was I out?”

“Two weeks!” Junie chirps, whipping her rice-covered face up to give Nia a despairing, wide-eyed look.

Nia’s heart drops.

Tobias snorts and rolls his eyes. “Stop messing with her. She’s gullible enough when she isn’t injured.”

Oh. As Junie sticks her tongue out at Tobias, Nia hurriedly shovels more food into her mouth, fighting down her embarrassment for falling for that.

“The actual answer is about two days,” Tobias says.

Nia cautiously lowers her food, brow furrowing. “Two days? B-But how are we affording that?”

Tobias’ expression twists. “What?”

“The hospital,” Nia presses, waving a hand at the room around them. “We barely had enough money to come to Ghatha and back, so…”

Tobias blinks at her, looking dumbfounded. “Hospitals cost like...nothing? Especially after an emergency.”

“Oh.” Nia blinks back at him.

“Are you telling me humans charge you to get healed when you’re hurt?” Tobias asks, looking genuinely offended. “Like, enough that you were worried about it?”

Nia looks down at Junie for help, but the little bird just chirps a smug sound before returning to her food. “Don’t look at me. I wasn’t American.”

Ah. Nia didn’t really register that she was until this moment, but it makes sense from what knowledge she does know. It doesn’t really feel like a surprise.

“Where were you from, then?” Nia asks curiously, ignoring the bewildered look Tobias gives the two of them for not elaborating on the whole Hello yes pay us to save your life thing.

“Germany!” Junie chirps proudly. “Gotta say, since you’re American I’m kind of surprised you’re fluent in German.”

Nia stares at the rookidee. “I’m not. I only know English.”

Junie freezes mid-bite, then slowly turns to stare back. “…What language are you speaking right now?”

“English,” Nia repeats, voice a notch higher.

“I’m hearing you in perfect German so please tell me how that’s possible.”

“German?” Tobias speaks up.

Nia and Junie both turn to him, equally wide-eyed.

“T-Tobias,” Nia starts, swallowing hard. “What language are you speaking right now?”

The charmander looks completely thrown. “Uh. Ordirune? Like you two?”

Nia suddenly remembers her near mental breakdown that first day in the library, when she realized she was fluently reading a language she didn’t know. It makes sense that the same thing has been happening with speech.

Doesn’t mean it’s not freaking her out.

“O-Okay. Okay. Uh. I totally forgot to bring this up at the human convention. Junie, do you—?”

The rookidee has gone back to her food, burying her face in her rice. Her voice is muffled and hard to understand when she says, “I’m willing to act like nothing’s weird about this if you are.”

Nia’s curiosity is dying, but on top of everything else she’s currently grappling with, she’s not sure she can handle this world-shifting discovery at the moment. Plus, right now she doesn’t have the guild library to look to for answers, or Avery to discuss this with, and she’ll just drive herself nuts thinking about this too hard without some hope for a solution.

(But she is absolutely looking into this when they get back to Bethoc’s Haven.)

“Are you telling me you two aren’t speaking Ordirune?” Tobias asks, increasingly loud as he looks between the two of them.

“Apparently we are,” Junie teases, lifting her face. She has rice stuck to her feathers, but she seems like she’s already recovered from her shock. “Whatever that is.”

Tobias looks to Nia as if she’ll be able to solve the craziness of this situation. She gives him an apologetic shrug. “I have no clue how it works, but no, we’re not speaking...Ordirune? I don’t know what language all of the guild’s books are in, either, but for some reason I can read them just fine.”

Tobias stares at her, a frown on his face. Then he sighs, picks up his plate, and starts to eat without another word. Well, tries to. With his hands bandaged up so stiffly, the fork is back to slipping from his fingers.

Tobias growls and tries to maneuver the utensil, only managing to fling it from his lap and into the nest. He glares at where it disappeared. Nia opens her mouth, and he cuts her off with a hand jabbed in her direction. “Don’t. I don’t need help.”

Well. Nia’s jaw clicks shut as she bites back a smile. Maybe she’s getting a bit predictable with her mothering. Junie laughs.

“How did you even mangle your hands so badly?” The rookidee asks, pecking at some of her vegetables.

Tobias gives her a dry look. “Digging out your bodies.”

Both Nia and Junie still, looking again at the charmander’s hands and then back at his face. He rolls his eyes at the surprised expression on Junie’s face and the open guilt on Nia’s. “I’ll be fine in a few days. Would you rather I left you two under there?”

“Of course not, but...” Nia murmurs, knowing she still looks as upset as she feels. She didn’t know Tobias got so hurt saving them. She pushes her plate away, suddenly not so hungry.

The charmander throws up his hands, looking frustrated. “Look, d’you want Junie to get all mopey about you almost dying to save her?”

Nia reels back. “Of course not!”

“Then don’t start up the waterworks over me. I’m fine.”

Nia meets his gaze, honest as usual and not looking for an ounce of pity. She sighs. He’s right. Except now Junie just looks doubly upset, and it’s a foreign, uncomfortable expression on the chipper little bird.

“Hey, remember that I don’t regret saving you either, okay?” Nia says softly, giving Junie a smile. “Even if I got hurt. It’s our job, and you’re our friend. We chose to help.”

Junie looks down at her plate again, quiet, but nods.

Tobias snorts. “Should’ve been my job, since I’m the fire type. Idiot.”

Nia gives him a sheepish smile and searches for a change in topic. “Junie mentioned something earlier about me using my aura when the ceiling fell. I don’t remember that, but you saw it too?”

Tobias’ brow furrows, and he looks down at his plate to scoot his food around. “Yeah. When the ceiling fell there was like...a flash of blue energy.” He looks up to meet her eyes. “It looked like your aura. Exact same color. It curved around you guys like a bubble, or a shield or something.”

Nia frowns, humming a thoughtful sound. That’s so strange. Her aura certainly can’t do that.

...Right?

Nia closes her eyes and reaches for her aura, focusing on where her soul sits in her chest. What she finds is a tiny blue flame, small as a match, as if her aura has run dangerously close to vanishing entirely. Yet, it feels...different. Deeper, somehow? Like this tiny flame is just a drop of water in the ocean instead of a drop of water in a bucket. Like some sort of blockage has burst open and now she can feel...more.

Curiously, Nia pokes at it, urging it to flare back to its usual size, only for her aura (her body?) to respond with a backlash of prickling pain. She yelps, immediately pulling away from her inner self to clutch at her chest.

“Hey—don’t push yourself!” Tobias snaps. For once, he sounds more worried than angry.

Nia cracks open her eyes to see Tobias leaning close, hands poised as if to grab her. Junie is watching her with worry.

“I-I’m good. I just...I tried to call my aura, and it’s...different? I’m not sure how. A-And it looks smaller than usual? Like my energy is low or something.”

Tobias sits back, frowning. “Maybe you did use your aura, then. Is your aura finite? Can it be used up?”

“I’m not sure. Val never lets me push myself that far.” Nia wishes the medicham were here to help with this. “From what I understand it’s kind of like my life energy, but I’ve always felt sick and exhausted way before it got to this point.”

Tobias stares at her, clearly deep in thought. “Maybe your body usually protects you from using too much at one time because it’s dangerous to you.”

“But when I was backed into a corner and it was life-or-death,” Nia continues, catching on. “It lashed out full-power to keep me safe?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Tobias says with a shrug. “You have been sleeping for two days straight. The doctor thought you just overworked yourself, but maybe your fatigue is actually from aura backlash.”

Nia nods, slowly. “I-I guess that makes sense.”

Tobias doesn’t look satisfied. “The only other thing I can think of is a move called protect. It can form a wall or bubble like that, and stop almost any move for a brief period of time. That would explain how you kept tons of rock and debris from flattening you two, but I don’t think riolu are even able to learn it naturally.”

Nia pauses, the description niggling at her memory. A move called protect? A ball of blue energy, surrounding her, defending against fire and force...where has she heard of that before?

“What do you mean we can’t learn it ‘naturally?’” Nia asks instead.

“Some Pokemon don’t just learn moves spontaneously, like I did with dragon rage,” Tobias explains. “Not every Pokemon can learn every move, but sometimes they can be taught by another Pokemon instead. We call those moves TMs—trained moves.”

Nia tilts her head as she listens, intrigued. “So I could learn certain moves,” She starts, slowly. “But I’d need another Pokemon who already knows them to teach me? And protect is one of those moves?”

“I think so,” Tobias says, face twisting in thought. “Usually Pokemon can only learn protect naturally if they have like…a shell or something. I’ve never heard of a fighting type like a riolu just learning it on their own. That’s why this all feels so weird.”

Nia looks down at her paws, clenching them in her lap. It makes more sense for her to have used her aura if she shouldn’t be able to use protect. And yet, the word is sparking some kind of memory. She thinks again of Tobias’ description—a blue bubble of energy, shielding her from destruction. From the fire.

All at once she thinks of Will, smiling at her warmly, and then a line of yamask in a row, the smell of books and a picture of a Pokémon—a pikachu, she realizes now—flashes through her mind. Her breath catches as she straightens in her seat. Wait, that’s it!

“I read a book when I first came here,” Nia breathes, desperately trying to recall that collection of fairy tales and what it said about humans. “It mentioned that move! Protect! I think it said something about all humans being able to learn it, regardless of their species. It’s one of the few consistent things in our situation.”

Tobias doesn’t look as excited like she thought he might. If anything, he looks more conflicted, crossing his arms. “But that’s just…unheard of. And if it’s true then that means it wasn’t your aura, but I swear it looked exactly like it. And with your aura levels being so low it makes sense for there to be a connection.”

Nia makes a frustrated sound in her throat. “Maybe Val can help us figure it out when we get back home? It seems like we’re getting cues from both sides. If we could recreate it—“

“No,” Tobias meets her eyes with a sharp look. “Not until you’re back to full strength.”

Nia feels a warmth in her chest at his open concern, and she holds up her hands with a laugh. “I know, I know! Trust me, I don’t really feel like passing out again for two days.”

Tobias nods, satisfied, and opens his mouth to say something else when there’s a quiet knock at the door. They all turn, and Nia expects a nurse or doctor to step in for a check-up.

Instead, she’s shocked to see Will poke his head into the room with a concerned look. When he catches sight of their group he lights up, red eyes shining. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“Great,” Tobias grumbles, already glaring daggers as the yamask floats in and closes the door behind him.

Nia bumps her partner’s leg with her own. “Be nice.” Then, louder, “Will! It’s good to see you again.”

“I wish it could be under better circumstances,” Will says as he floats to their side, a regretful smile at his lips. His thumbs rub at the edge of the golden mask he carries. “I’ve been wanting to come check on everyone who was caught up in the fire.”

“Then why’d it take you two days to do it?” Tobias growls. Nia bumps his leg again, a bit harder. “Keegan was here the morning after.”

Will winces and looks away, gaze drifting to the window. “Ah, I’m afraid I’ve been a bit busy helping with the investigation.”

“You’re part of it?” Tobias asks, voice thick with suspicion.

“Investigation?” Nia asks, tilting her head first at Will, then Tobias. “What investigation?”

Will rubs his face, looking ten times older than he had at the conference when he was all charm and charisma. “Keegan suspects foul play in regards to how the fire began, so we want to thoroughly explore all possibilities before laying the blame on Hugo’s troupe. There weren’t any casualties in the fire, thank God, but there were a lot of serious injuries and, ah…property damage.”

Nia blinks at the explanation, still trying to play catch-up. Foul play?

“Whoa! Are you like secretly a detective?!” Junie asks, fluttering closer.

Will finally cracks a smile, shaking his head. “No, no, nothing like that.”

Tobias folds his arms. “Then why are you part of the investigation? Last I heard you aren’t a pyrotechnics expert.”

“Tobias,” Nia protests halfheartedly. She knows he doesn’t like the guy but he doesn’t have to be so openly hostile.

“No no, it’s quite all right, Nia,” Will soothes, giving first her and then Tobias another rueful smile. “We are investigating for any possible tampering, so it’s good to be suspicious at this stage.”

“Tampering,” Nia echoes. “What do you mean?”

Junie shifts a bit closer to Nia, something almost…uncomfortable in her expression. Wary? Tobias narrows his eyes at the yamask.

Will opens his mouth to speak, then hesitates, gaze moving over the three of them. Nia notices how he lingers on her burns, on Tobias’ bandaged fingers and Junie’s broken leg. His face tightens with something like resolution. “I know two of you already know about this, but I still want to ask that you don’t spread word of this needlessly. It’s only a working theory at the moment and could cause unnecessary panic if word spreads.”

Nia blinks, alarmed, and welcomes it when Junie clumsily flutters into her lap. She holds the bird close. “U-Uh…sure?”

Will sighs, looking down at his mask. “Keegan was suspicious from the start that the fire was not an accident, taking the troupe’s reputation and precautions into account. While we aren’t sure of anything yet, the Pokémon looking into it are leaning towards the idea of foul play. We suspect the fire was set intentionally.”

“Why would someone do that?” Nia asks, horrified. She vaguely remembers hearing about crimes of arson in the human world, but never dreamed of something so mindlessly destructive happening here in the Pokémon world.

“And again, why are you so closely involved with the investigation?” Tobias asks, gaze sharp.

Will’s expression tightens. “I was not only the one who put this event together, but I was also uninjured, unlike most folks who were around at the time. They wanted to make sure I didn’t see anyone suspicious.”

Nia’s surprised that Tobias doesn’t say anything to that, and glances over at him. He’s not quite looking at the yamask, anymore, instead staring through him into space. He looks like he’s thinking hard about something.

“Well, did ya?” Junie asks Will, feathers fluffed up in agitation. “See anyone suspicious, that is!”

Will glances at Tobias, looking uncomfortable. “Well, I don’t want to throw around accusations…”

“Just spit it out,” Tobias snaps, suddenly sounding much more on-edge.

Nia almost scolds him again, but cuts herself off when she looks at him. He’s tense, spine ramrod straight like he’s about to bolt to his feet and fight. His eyes are wide and a bit wild. His tail flame is bright.

Will sighs. “Well…I did notice a particularly powerful-looking arcanine lurking about on his own who I don’t remember seeing earlier in the day. Which could mean nothing, of course! There were plenty of powerful fire types there that day. But I thought I should mention it to the investigators, so I think he’s currently their prime suspect.”

Nia stops listening halfway through Will’s explanation. She’s too busy looking at Tobias in concern. The charmander’s breath had caught at the mention of the Pokémon—an arcanine. Surely that couldn’t be the same arcanine that they’ve been looking for, right? The outlaw?

But Tobias must be thinking the same thing, because he’s clearly somewhere else, wide eyes staring sightlessly at the floor, breaths growing harsher by the second, fingers curling into shaking fists—

Nia hurries to grab the charmander’s damaged hands and uncurl his mangled fingers before he can hurt himself. He jerks out of her hold, gaze flicking up to her but seeing nothing, looking right through her. His body is tense and trembling, like his fight response has abruptly switched over to flight and he might run off at any second in a panic.

Distantly Nia notes that Will has stopped speaking and Junie has fluttered out of Nia’s lap to chirp something over Nia’s shoulder, but she shushes the chatty little bird and focuses on her partner. Tobias is whispering something, and she leans forward to hear, straining her sharp ears.

“He was there. He was there, I saw him, he was in the fire, I didn’t remember but he was there he—”

Nia frowns, more than a little unsettled by the charmander’s weak voice and frantic words. She wants to dissect them more, think on them, ask him what exactly he means (he wouldn’t just believe Will that easily, surely? But he mentioned remembering—did he see the arcanine and block it out?)

Whatever happened, right now it looks like he’s...dissociating? She thinks that’s the word. Or maybe on the edge of a panic attack. She’s not sure. Didn’t he have a panic attack at the guild? When he saw the post about the outlaws and decided to create a Seeker team.

Someone says something and Tobias flinches, and Nia shoves all of her thoughts aside for now. The most important thing right now is to help Tobias, even if she doesn’t know how to do that and can feel anxiety tightening in her gut. Should she touch him? That didn’t go so well when she grabbed his hands, but—

“T-Tobias?” Nia tries. Nothing. No recognition, no sign that he even heard her. Hesitantly, she lifts her hands to his face, trying to get him to look at her. “Tobias?”

Tobias tenses up further at the slight brush of her palms, but doesn’t jerk away this time. Okay, okay, what does she do now? Try his name again? Distract him? Talk to him? Oh God, she has no idea how to help him and his breathing has gone shaky and harsh, almost wheezing, like he can’t catch his breath—

“Nia, if you can get his attention, you can lead him through a breathing exercise. He needs to calm down or he’ll pass out.”

Will has lowered himself next to her, brow pinched and gaze focused on her partner’s stricken face, and her first instinct is to tell him to leave, to hide Tobias away when he’s this vulnerable, but the ghost type sounds so calm and confident. Like he knows what he’s doing. Nia clings to that strength.

“H-How can I get his attention?” She squeaks, trying not to panic right alongside Tobias.

Will frowns, glancing over his shoulder at the sunlit room. “Get closer, narrow his vision. You don’t happen to know any ice types on staff, do you? If we had some ice we could put that in his hand to snap him out of it.”

“I-I can get ice!” Nia hears Junie chirp, and then the flutter of wings.

Tobias is still breathing harsh, eyes flicking back and forth and seeing something Nia cannot. He’s shaking almost violently beneath her touch, and she hates it. Hates that he’s so terrified and trapped in some horrible memory where she can’t reach him.

A little desperate, Nia leans forward, right in his face, and tries to get his attention, tries to shut out the world. He’s almost too close to see, but she catches his flickering gaze. “Tobias. Tobias, please, you have to calm down. C-Can you calm down and breathe? Tobias? Toby?”

Nia’s not sure what prompts her to use the nickname Junie forced upon him just a few days ago, but as soon as she says it, blue eyes snap to hers. Not quite seeing her, but paying some sort of attention. He heard her.

She can’t decide whether to laugh or cry, so she just gives him a shaky grin. “G-Good! Good, okay. Toby, can you hear me? Can you nod if you can?”

A heartbeat passes, and then a jerky half-nod that almost bumps their noses together. She laughs, and thinks that his eyes focus on her a bit more. “Great! Okay, u-um, uh—“

“Keep asking him questions. Keep him here.”

“R-Right, okay, Toby—Toby? Hey, look at me. Good! Okay, how about, uh...”

“Ask him to list something. Colors, sounds—“

“What colors do you see?” Nia asks, latching onto Will’s helpful directions.

Tobias’ eyes focus on hers again. “R-Red.”

“Good! What else?”

His gaze flicks to the left ever so slightly. “B...Black? And blue.”

“Anything else?”

His gaze moves down to where Nia knows there’s a burn on her cheek. “Pink.”

Nia doesn’t even know if that one’s right, but she grins anyways. “Awesome! O-Okay, uh—“

“Have him do a breathing exercise before he faints. 5-6-7. Five seconds in, hold for six, release for seven.”

“Tobias, can you breathe in for me?” Nia asks. “Deep breath!”

The charmander tries, she can tell he does, but he only manages a short, shaky inhale before releasing it and gasping in another.

Nia’s stomach drops. “O-Okay, that’s okay, just try again. Deep breath.”

She takes a breath, sees him try to match her before letting it out far too early. Is that bad? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what she’s doing!

Tobias must pick up on her own panic, because his breathing stutters into another gasp. No no no, she’s supposed to be helping, not making him worse!

She just wants to help!

A lance of of pain shoots through Nia’s chest, and she squeezes her eyes shut with a whine, automatically following the pain to her raw, exhausted aura. Except the little blue flame is no longer a weak, still thing in her chest. Instead, it’s thrashing and flaring with her emotions, seeming to grow larger by the second, like it’s being fed by her panic. But this hasn’t ever happened before!

Nia tries to figure out where the building energy is coming from, realizing all at once that she hadn’t been imagining the feeling earlier of having access to more. It’s like the well of her aura has suddenly gotten deeper, filled with more energy than before, and now it’s overflowing and feeding that fire in her chest, stoking it into something more sensitive to her emotions.

That only makes her panic more, and the tiny blue flame of her soul grows and grows and grows until it’s too much to be contained. It rushes outward, throughout her body, to her legs and tail and arms, and she rips herself away from Tobias with a yelp. What is her aura doing?!

Tobias flinches and makes a small, desperate noise in the back of his throat. Nia wants to reach out again, but she can’t touch him, not like this. Not with her aura flaring like a blue inferno and reaching towards Tobias with an almost fierce protectiveness.

Will shoots her a worried glance before taking her place in front of Tobias. She hears him say something in a low, soothing murmur.

Nia’s aura has never done anything like this before, never felt like it was fighting back against her. If anything, her aura has always been too unresponsive, slow to follow her orders and too weak to do anything but brush at others’ energy through her skin.

She’d prefer that weakness over this raging thing. It doesn’t feel much more powerful than it was before, just...unfiltered. Unrestrained.

And she has no idea how to control it.

For once, she feels dangerous. Like a bomb waiting to go off, too much power building in a body too small to contain it.

“Nia!”

Nia’s eyes snap open, and there’s Junie, in front of her face. The little bird rears back, staring at her eyes with a surprised expression.

“Are you okay?” The rookidee asks, gaze flicking to the side of Nia’s face and then back again. “You’re, uh, glowing.”

Nia looks down to see that she is in fact glowing, body outlined in the blue of her aura and brighter than it’s ever been before. She’s not even trying to do that.

Junie glances down at Nia’s hands, surprise souring to dismay. “You’re shaking!”

“My aura,” Nia grits out, shutting her eyes again to look at it. The energy is still larger than usual, but it almost looks like it’s...calming, slightly. Swirling anxiously, but without the sharp edges of panic.

“C-Can I help?”

Nia shakes her head, watching her aura like it’s a snarling dog about to snap at her fingers. But despite her fear and confusion, the energy only continues to calm as the seconds pass. Nia can finally hear Will again, counting and breathing with Tobias. She doesn’t realize she’s following along until her aura finally stills, settling in her chest. It’s calm again, larger than it’s ever been but manageable. A lion calmed from its frenzy to purr contentedly at her side.

Nia cracks opens her eyes. Junie is looking between Nia and Will.

“Back with us, Tobias?” The yamask asks.

Tobias! Nia takes another moment to check on her aura, confirm that it’s under control, and then she scoots over to Will’s side. The charmander blinks sluggishly, but his gaze flicks to her. “Nia?”

Wow, he sounds out of it. Nia’s chest aches, with emotion this time instead of her aura. “Y-Yeah, Toby—Tobias. How’re you feeling?”

Tobias doesn’t even respond to her slip-up, pressing his palms into his eyes and groaning. “Like I got trampled by a rhyperior.”

Will gives him a sympathetic smile before turning to Nia. “And you?”

Nia winces. Tobias was the one who had a panic attack; they should be focusing on him, not her. “F-Fine. I don’t know what happened. My aura just went crazy.”

Will’s gaze moves between her and Tobias, thoughtful. “Aura can sense emotions, correct? Perhaps some of Tobias’ fear bled into your own emotional state.”

Nia frowns, wracking her brain for what Val had told her she would eventually be able to do with her aura. She can kind of read people’s emotions when she’s purposefully looking at their aura, sure. And she does sort of...feel them for herself, too? But never like this, unintentionally and without touch.

“But I wasn’t looking at his aura. I wasn’t even touching—“ Nia stops, catching herself. She was touching him, wasn’t she? Cupping his face. She wasn’t touching his aura or using hers, but...

Tobias doesn’t react, eyes lidded with exhaustion.

“Maybe the emotion was strong enough for you to pick it up regardless?” Will suggests, hand at his chin. “You are partners, after all—it would make sense for you to be more in tune with one another.”

Nia looks at Tobias again, waiting for his usual vehement protests to any implication that they’re anything even close to friends.

The charmander just shrugs, drained of his usual fight. “Sorry, I guess.”

It’s somehow flippant and genuine all at once. Nia blinks. “I-It’s not like you did it on purpose.”

Tobias doesn’t answer. Instead, he just rubs at his eyes and grumbles, “Whatever. I wanna sleep. Either talk quieter or get out, Will.”

Nia can’t manage to scold him right now, not when the charmander looks so utterly exhausted. She remembers he was the same after the panic attack at the guild, too. So instead, Nia just gives Will an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Panic attacks wipe him out.”

“Still here,” Tobias growls, shooting her a weak glare. There’s her prickly partner!

“It’s quite all right. I should be heading to other rooms anyways.” Will smiles apologetically at them yet again. “I’m sorry for interrupting your rest, and for...well, potentially triggering your panic attack, Tobias. Was it the, ah…the specific Pokemon I mentioned?”

Tobias winces again, eyes squeezing shut

“Yeah,” Nia murmurs for him.

“Then apologies for that as well,” Will says, looking remorseful. “Before I go—will you all be in Ghatha for a bit while you recover?”

Oh. Nia doesn’t actually know. They’d planned on staying after the Human Convention anyways, to investigate the outlaw trio, and sitting on Fliss’ back for hours on end with the wind tearing at her wounds sounds awful right now. But just in case, she looks to Tobias.

The charmander glances at her, gaze flicking down over her burns. “Nia’ll need a few days to rest.”

“Your hands need to heal too,” She reminds him, gently.

Tobias looks back at Will. “And I want to stick around and look for that…” He stumbles, takes a deep breath, and his voice only shakes a bit when he continues. “That arcanine. If he really did set the fire, he needs to be brought in.”

Nia frowns. She knows the explanation is mostly a cover for his true animosity towards the arcanine, but this whole debacle couldn’t have helped lessen his desire for revenge. He’s gotta be even more angry than before, if that’s possible.

Well, they’re partially here in Ghatha to hunt down leads on the outlaw trio, anyways, and this might be a big one, so it makes sense for them to stay until that’s resolved. They’ll have to send a letter to Maggie and August to let them know.

Nia cringes. Maggie is going to give them an earful for this one.

“I’ll stick around for a bit, too,” Junie chirps, “Can’t do much flying with a cast on my leg. ‘Sides, Toby’s gonna need an extra hand.”

“You don’t even have hands!”

Before Tobias can really get going, Nia interrupts, “We weren’t planning on staying longer than a couple of days, but Tobias mentioned us being able to take on honorary guild work to make money and explore the area. So I guess we’ll plan on doing that once we’re well enough to leave the hospital?”

Will nods. “That sounds like a fine plan. Keegan has been a wonderful help, and I’ve heard nothing but good things about the guild here in town, so I’m sure you’ll have no issue signing up for missions.”

“Then I guess we’ll probably see you around,” Nia say, giving the yamask a tired smile.

Will smiles back. “Indeed. And I’ll be sure to let you all know once I hear anything new about the investigation.”

Tobias nods. “Good. Keep us in the loop.”

“Of course.” Will bows to them again and floats towards the door. “I’ll let you all rest. Have a good night.”

Nia and Junie wave as the ghost type leaves the room. Tobias just shuffles over to his nest and flops down, curling up and making himself comfortable.

“You know it’s only mid-afternoon, right?” Junie asks, fluttering over to Tobias’ side.

“You know you could shut up, right?” Tobias growls, turning away.

Junie chirps a laugh and turns back to Nia. “Ball of sunshine, this one.”

Nia bites back a laugh, watching as Tobias slowly melts into his nest, probably enjoying the warmth and sunshine pouring into the room. Nia definitely doesn’t want to disturb him, but she feels sort of restless, despite her wounds. It’s probably the worry about everything Will told them. And Tobias’ panic attack. And her aura suddenly freaking out.

Cautiously, she prods again at her aura, but it’s still calm, burning bright in her chest. Huh. Maybe after resting up and healing from her injuries it’ll act normal again? It seems fine now.

“I think I’m gonna take a little walk around the hospital,” Nia announces quietly, looking at Junie. “Wanna come?”

“Sure!”

The two of them head towards the door, Nia at a slow pace that pulls less at her burns and wounds. They probably shouldn’t be walking around without a doctor’s permission, but they won’t go far or anything, just take a look around the halls.

Before they close the door, Nia’s gaze catches on Tobias again, already sound asleep. He seems like he bounced back all right from his panic attack, but she still worries. What if they do find something solid about the arcanine in their own investigating? What if they find the arcanine himself? If he really was at the fire, then it’s suddenly a very real possibility. Just the unexpected mention of the Pokémon was enough to send Tobias spiraling again.

And that same Pokemon may be responsible for the fire. For all three of them almost dying.

It’s...a lot. And a lot to be scared of. Why would the rogue even set the fire in the first place? What should they even do if they find a real lead? Nia isn’t eager to face any fire type in combat any time soon, let alone such a powerful outlaw. They wouldn’t stand a chance if they fought him.

Nia shivers, taking a deep breath as she shuts the door and follows Junie’s short, careful hops out into the hallway. She needs to stop thinking for now, and try to relax while she can. She won’t be able to do much of anything for a day or two anyways, so until then her and Tobias will just have to wait and heal and keep an ear out for any news from Will or Keegan. Then they’ll decide what to do next.

“Let’s look around and find something cool to sneak back to our room!” Junie chirps conspiratorially, glancing down the hallway with a glint in her eyes. Nia has the distinct feeling that the little bird was the kind of human to hijack a wheelchair and go flying down hospital ramps in their old world.

Nia shakes her head, smiling. At least their recovery won’t be boring.

#pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #pokemon #charmander #riolu #rookidee #pmd seekers of soul #tesha draws #tesha writes

159 notes · View notes

falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 1- She Ran With Wolves

Bucky Barnes x powered (f)reader Series Re-write (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: You’re a survivor, always have been and always will be. After narrowly escaping the clutches of Hydra years ago, you’ve been keeping to the shadows for as long as time allows. With Hydra suddenly exposed and your secrets in the open, you’re on the hunt for the last part of your past, but is he ready to see you again?

Warning: angst, talk of violence, some fluff mixed in (a little); way more to come

Masterlist

Side note- This is a TFATWS Series Re-write!!! Obviously lol, anyways. Readers powers are heavily inspired by a certain Marvel badass and I just thought her powers would work so well for this. Also they’re cool as fuck.

September, 15th 2013

Location: S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, Washington D.C.

This recent project Fury had sent her on was beginning to make itself quit the annoyance for Natasha this past of couple weeks, granted he always gave her the toughest assignments, understanding that no one else can dig up as much dirt as the Black Widow can.

But this? This was different, the target in question was practically a ghost, a legend among the ones lucky, or possibly unlucky enough to have been made aware of this dangerous individual. But no matter how much she asked around from her various secretive resources on the problem in question, this mystery person was simply just rumor to them. Or perhaps too much of a sour subject to seek into any further. Although one thing was always prevalent, people were scared.

But why?

The assassin leans back in her chair, a thoughtful expression crossing over her features as she stares bitterly down at the top secret file gifted to her by Fury himself. Suddenly a door closes, she shuts the file in an instant, only to be greeted with the apologetic face of Steve as he walks past her.

“Sorry. Fury told me you would be in here.” Begins Steve as he takes the nearby couch, something small and metal in his right hand, “Said you were assigned some impossible case. How’s it going so far?”

Letting out a jaded sigh, she shifts her gaze over to the window, “The absolute vagueness of this person is....frustrating to say the least. All I’ve been able to gather is that they’ve been part of some top secret experimentation on pregnant women. Somehow they’re involved with it....I just, gotta figure out how.” She adds with a conflicted expression dancing across her features.

Steve hums in thought, “Sounds complicated.”

“You have no idea.” Mutters Natasha unenthusiastically as her green irises shift back down to the annoying little file.

Steve palms the object in his hand before gaining his friends attention once again, “Here. Fury told me to give this to you.” Her brows furrow in thought as she reaches over and quickly accepts the strange hard drive looking object, “I think this will help. It has the location of the target and who they are. That’s it.....Well, the last reported location.”

“How did he?” She wonders aloud, face suddenly breaking out into an irked grin, “Fury you son of a bitch, about time I found a legitimate lead.”

——

Sitting on her comfortable apartment couch, Natasha sifts through the various encrypted files from the hard drive that’s currently plugged into her laptop. So far she’s spent about two hours breaking through the various encrypted file blockers and now at long last has finally made some real progress.

Studying the brightly glowing screen, she moves her finger, clicking another coded link that reads -V13X11- she’s immediately greeted with a black screen and the slightly blurred picture of a woman’s face who’s looking rather stoic and fearless against the camera flash. Her eyes are set and hard as stone, dark and almost angry behind lips that show the ghost of a forced smile. She’s noticeably an overall attractive woman, in kind of a terrifying and intimidating sort of way, like looking at a fierce lioness standing valiantly against a foe; nonetheless she stares defiantly at the person behind the camera.

Her eye color, weight, date of birth, and presumably patient number, that's printed in big bold letters 00X13 on the glowing screen, right below her squared portrait. Furrowing her brows, Natasha scrolls down to see about a paragraph long of personal information given about the woman. Including, to the red heads tremendous surprise, a birth name, Y/N Valerious.

Oddly enough, the name indeed sounds a tad bit familiar, though she can’t quit place from where.

The file states that she was raised in a facility on the outskirts of Surinda, Russia; someplace in Siberia, close to the heart of the mammoth country. Trained by the organization Hydra and summitted into inhuman experimentation by the specific facility that held her, however the rest is all encrypted and impossible to translate into something comprehensible much to Natasha’s utter disappointment.

Huffing in frustration, she slips out the hard drive before shutting down her laptop and slamming it shut. The room is darker by now with the sun gone, and tomorrow it appears that Natasha will be off to Sweden to confront this woman, Y/N, in hopes of gathering valuable intel into the people who created her, and any important information regarding her troubled past.

If she’s willing to comply.

——

Closing your laptop, you stand and wander over to the opened window to stretch before taking a deep breath of freshly brisk winter air. The land here in Uppsala, Sweden is more beautiful and peaceful then you could have ever imagined since renting an apartment two months ago. In fact, this is probably the longest you’ve ever stayed in one spot since abandoning the life of an assassin many years ago.

Though you know it won’t be much longer until you leave again, but you can’t just yet, there happens to be a certain agent on her way to find you. Fury unknowingly received your encrypted hard drive with opened arms, foolishly under the impression it was sent from an old friend when he reached out for answers into your complicated history. Then when the Black Widow eventually clicked open your link, bam, you could see everything she was nosily sifting through. Everything you wanted her to see. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if something dramatic happened to the people over in D.C. at this point, idiots, all of them.

For the past couple years S.H.I.E.L.D has become sort of a troubling snooping nuisance for you, constantly delving their way into your relatively uneventful lifestyle every couple of months, meddling around to figure out if you’re still currently active for Hydra and if not, are you willing to pay for your crimes or to join them like she did. Definitely not on your to do list any time soon.

Watching as a small black bird zips by, you quickly shut your window and close the dark colored curtains to block yourself from the rest of the chaotic world. Hastily making your usual rounds about the apartment to be absolutely certain all the possible openings are locked. Soon after you head for bed, ready to face the ex-assassin whenever she arrives in the following days ahead.

Seated at your kitchen table, you casually sip at your steaming hot tea while watching security footage from downstairs from when you hacked into their system, the same night you began renting the place. As expected, the notorious red head slips her way into the building and up the four flights of stairs until finally a light knock is heard at your old wooden door.

So she wants to do this cleanly.

Switching off the device, you stuff it in a nearby drawer before calmly walking down the tiny hallway over to the frontdoor and opening it, lock off and all. Her green eyes blink in curious surprise as you show her no indications of aggression; she’s about your height if not maybe slightly smaller, thick scarf and a winters coat about her person as she holds a normal sized black bag in her right hand. No doubt a gun concealed somewhere close, a light precaution in case things go south from here.

Trailing your wary gaze from her travel bag to her pale face, you raise an intrigued brow, “I assume you’re here for me?” You ask with the tinge of a confident Eastern European accent as she slowly nods, eyes calculated and calm as she studies your mellow yet slightly defensive stance.

Pursing plush lips together, she casually shrugs with a light hearted smile, “I only realized you must have sent that hard drive when I arrived in London...”

“Well I’ve gotten rather bored running away from your persistent bastards over in America.” You interrupt before opening up your door even wider, gifting her an open invitation instead of a fight, “Come in. I assume we have much to discuss.”

Following you to the table, she sets her bag on the closest chair as you take another sip from your tea. Cautious eyes trained on her every move as she shifts a bit uncomfortably in her chair, “So, I assume you’re not here to sell me that pretty bag of yours. Not that I’d want it.”

She smirks at your blunt sarcasm, pleased to know you’ve at least got a sense of humor after all you’ve endured, “No. I’m here to learn about who created you and if there are any more. Y/N, I’m well aware of how dangerous you truly are...but given the fact that you’ve had time to adjust, and let me into your home willingly. I came seeking answers. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Folding your hands together, you tilt your head at her thoughtfully, “Well that’s good. I didn’t really want killing the Black Widow on my conscience, though I’d speculate a few would be relieved.” You quip with a playful smirk before your face turns serious again, “I’ll tell you about the fuckers who made me. Then you leave and never bother me again. Understood?” You add in almost a growl.

Handing you a polite smile, she nods in agreement, “Of course. You have my word.” You take another sip of your tea as she reaches into her bag, a beige file suddenly plants itself atop your kitchen table. “This is the only surviving file on you. It’s enough, but there’s too many cracks that need to be filled. I need to know how they conducted the experiments and who else survived them. This is important for the safety of S.H.I.E.L.D and the rest of the world. Y/N, we’re trying to make sure something like this can never happen again. And well, any secrets on Hydra always helps.”

Setting your cup down, you smirk, “This should be filled with liquor if I’m going to be spilling some top secret Hydra business of this velocity.” You muse, setting aside your mug, your face quickly shifts to a more serious expression. “For starters this isn’t a very heartwarming story.”

“Neither is mine.” Begrudgingly admits the ex-assassin.

“Well, at least we have something in common then, Black Widow.” You assert with a pointed look before leaning back against the barred wood of your chair, thinking of where to start first. Your eyes trail over to the window as you begin your story, “This place, where they kept us. The scientists working for Hydra wanted to test out special DNA altering serums on the embryos of willing participants. Well, we weren’t willing....but they targeted the poor, feigning a program that would pay these mothers-to-be thousands if they participated. Plus a comfortable place to stay for awhile.” You reveal before taking another sip of your tea, “You see, I’m not originally from Russia, my home was some nameless village in Eastern Europe that I’ve forgotten the name of by now, it was so long ago. But anyways, I guess fate has a funny way of administering it’s business to the ones seeking safety in times of struggle. So my mother...” You take another sip of your tea to help clear your throat and head a little bit, God you hate talking about this.

Setting it down again, you continue, “Mine accepted. They took her and twenty-two others to this facility deep in the woods. This place was practically a paradise for them...” You chuckle miserably, “soon enough the scientists pumped them full of drugs and began their altering of the embryos DNA, genetic codes, and whatever else they saw fit to mess with. Nine months later we came into this world kicking and screaming.”

“Shit.” Mutters Natasha in astonishment, fully engrossed in your story as she starts to realize maybe her upbringing wasn’t as fucked as yours.

“They monitored us for the first few months, waiting to see if anyone acted strange....nothing, to their utter disappointment. Soon they drew blood samples and as it turned out, we all had altered DNA from the serum. Just as they’d planned.”

Her brows furrow in puzzlement before she asks, “How’d you get your powers then? I don’t think I missed anything.” Insists your guest questionably as you shake your head.

“You didn’t. But you have to understand that as we grew older, all of us basically became tiny super soldiers as fucked as that is, not only did they change our genetic code for meddling with later on when we got older. But this serum was so well developed that it completely fused with the fetuses genetic code, only causing us to grow stronger as we aged from toddlers to three-year-old's and up. Testing even revealed that it slowed down our ageing process just like with Captain America. But it wouldn’t be effective till we reached our mid to late twenties.”

Natasha takes a moment to process your words before she nods in acknowledgment, “Y/N. It’s my understanding that this is a buried secret from the organization for good reason, it’s just....what year did this all take place? It’s not in any of the records I was able to dig up, not even in yours, nothing except for your date of birth.” States Natasha curiously, stopping you before you speak of anything else.

Nodding you lean your arms against the wooden table, leaning in a bit closer now, “1953, after World War ll when people where still recovering from the heavy aftermath while the Cold War was still raging on when well, you know.” Giving her a lopsided shrug, you glance from an old faded picture on the wall then back to her, “Lets just say Russia wasn’t exactly having a stellar time, nor was my mother for that matter.” You Conclude before aimlessly pursuing your lips together, “Which yes, makes me at around 60 years old. Don’t I look pretty.” You add, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Natasha’s eyes concede silent astonishment as she blinks back surprise, “Even after all these years doing what I do, meeting the people that I have. I’m still left speechless every once in awhile. Y/N I can’t even imagine what you’ve seen.” Reveals the red head honestly as her green irises flicker from your file then back up to you, a conflicted expression dancing across her features, “How did they...how did you gain your powers, aside from what the serum gave you in the process?”

An apprehensive sigh escapes freely from your lips while you lean back into the creaky old chair, a troubled look darkening your features as you avoid her intrigued gaze, “They waited until we were twelve before testing us....in the meantime we lived as normal children; learning, playing, and training to survive. You know, the typical stuff.” You add with a small breathy laugh, though no humor finds your eyes, “We had our mothers until a year before they began the experiments. But it wasn’t that terrible of a loss since they trained us to adapt to our environment and never fully depend on anyone but ourselves.....it’s sick. And I’m not even sure what they did to them, I guess I never will.”

She nods as you make a disgusted face, an acidic hatred rising in your chest at the thought of your childhood, “I’m sorry, I can’t even imagine how traumatic that must have been.”

“Oh believe me, it gets better.” You joke bitterly, “In pairs of two they tested us, putting us into rooms where two doctors would strap us down and stick a needle into our skin. After that, they waited until something dramatic happened. Oh, and it sure as fuck did.” You conclude with a sneer.

Biting her lip anxiously, Natasha asks anyway, “How many survivors?”

Scoffing, you shake your head in revulsion for what those doctors did to everyone, an angry expression soon crossing your features, “One.” You sourly mutter, “All my other friends died of the new serum they gave us, either right then and there on the table, or in the following days. You see, it was supposed to blend with our altered DNA to create something powerful out of it, something beyond humans normal capabilities. It just ended up horribly mutating everyone except for me.” You whisper, clear sadness and hatred coating your very words.

Your eyes stare sharply at the peeling table top paint, a frown on your lips as you take in a deep breath before continuing, “What they did to me....no one should have to go through something so goddamn agonizing, I was only a child, just a little girl in a terrible place whether I knew it or not....and you know how it affected me?” She slowly shakes her head no as you smile miserably, your brows furrowed in pain, “I was gifted with bone claws that retracted out of my knuckles and one from each of my feet.” You confirm, eyes suddenly darkening in fury, “And you know what those goddamn bastards did to me afterwards? Like I hadn’t suffered enough from the pain of it all, they pumped me full of liquid Adamantium. Turning my claws to solid metal, the fucking strongest material on earth. Right in the body of an eleven year old child!” You shout furiously as she flinches back at your outburst, blinking hard, you let out a heavy breath before leaning back into your chair in defeat.

Calm down, Y/N. It’s just a memory now.

Strong brows dent her clear skin in thought as you await a response, after a few long moments does she soon gather her racing mind, lacing her fingers together she raises a brow at you, “That doesn’t explain how you’ve survived so long. The years working for Hydra, they turned you into a weapon....yet you’ve escaped and haven’t been killed yet. Not even a scratch to be found.....well, at least that I can see.”

Turning to face the puzzled assassin, you give her a lopsided grin, your chill composure coming back to you quickly enough, “I didn’t just get claws from the enhanced serum that fucked with my genetic make-up, it completely heightened my humanly abilities. Suddenly I was stronger, faster, and all my senses felt like they were on overload. Best of it all, I came to realize I had accelerated healing capabilities. Who would have thought that their shitty inhuman experiments would have gone so horrendously, yet with the one miracle of an exception. Me.”

“I had figured that branch of Hydra was meddling on dangerous ground, I hadn’t realized the extent of what they were doing. Did they try making any more like you?” She wonders.

“I was the last. Since I was the only compatible vessel, they didn’t want to waste anymore time or money on others who could possibly fail.” You explain with a shrug, “I became one of their most treasured assets.”

Pursing her lips together, she gives a slight nod before revealing a different file from her bag, you watch as she pauses for a moment before opening it up, you quickly take notice of the many white papers pinned together. Some with encrypted symbols and words while others are in plain English. Your brows furrow as she flips the first page to reveal...

“I know I came asking for answers about classified information, but this won’t be a complete mission if I don’t ask you about your time with Hydra.” Proposes the red head cautiously while she studies your face for any hostile reactions, not getting anything but skepticism, she continues, “I understand you were very important to them. It’s recorded you’ve completed about three dozen kills over an active period of about thirty-seven years.”

You scoff before muttering, “So it would seem. They gave me my first mission in 1971...when I was 17.”

“Right, but that’s not exactly what I’m seeking.” Her eyes immediately trail down to the files, “I assume you must have seen this man at least once...” She flips another page over and pulls out a playing card sized photograph, she turns it around and slides it closer to you. Instantly you recognize who he is, but how did she?..

“I haven’t seen him in years, nor heard of him for that matter.” You mutter, though your tone shifts to a more aggravated one.

Noticing this difference, Natasha continues, “That’s the look of someone who has met him for less then friendly reasons. What happened to the Winter Soldier?” You take a long moment to study his stoic face of icy blue and white, and black; its when he was in the Cryostacis chamber, the place where they would freeze him to keep their Winter Soldier locked away until he was needed for a new mission. All that you can fully witness is his sleeping face, though you know exactly what he looks like up close and with no ice crystals in his dark hair.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you slide the photograph back over to her folder, “I met him when I was 25 in 1979, Hydra needed us for a duel mission somewhere in South Africa, they needed their best. We were tasked with locating and stealing some precious metal which we later learned was Vibranium, because apparently they had used the last of the Adamantium on me.” You reveal with a casual shrug, “It went relatively well as expected...and well, we worked with each other many times after that, until I escaped and he was sent to kill me in 2009.”

“You knew him for almost twenty-nine years. Do you know where he might be now?”

Scoffing, you almost laugh, “Even if I did, you’d never get him. But if I’d have to assume, he’s probably frozen in some cryo tank somewhere in the middle of Russia. Waiting to be let loose again so he can take out a new enemy of the state.”

“Right.” Nods the Black Widow as she closes up her files, her green irises quickly on you again, “Thank you for your time, and for the heavy material you spoke of.”

“It was a long time ago, someone else should remember what those fuckers did to innocent mothers and their children. No one in this entire world knows except for me, you, and the doctors I haven’t killed yet.” You growl with venom lacing your every word.

Soon you watch as she swiftly rises to her feet, as you do the same, “I wish you well then.” Affirms the Black Widow as you follow her lead to the door, she stands on the other side for a moment before asking, “Is there any way I could find you again?”

Leaning against the door frame, you break out into a knowing smirk as she stands waiting expectantly, “If you’re lucky, you’ll never see me again. Goodbye agent Romanoff.” And with that do you gently close the door, leaving her in the hallway with a plethora of useful information, but still nothing significantly useful on the Winter Soldier, now only time will tell if he ever happens to show up on her radar again. Hopefully not, she thinks doubtfully before turning on her heels and sauntering off down the hallway.

——

Almost two whole years had passed since last you’ve spoken to the assassin, in that time you’ve watched her speak on live television when Hydra had finally been exposed to the world and all their secrets let loose for the prying hungry eyes of the public.

Even some of your own information had been leaked, the world knew who you were now, what atrocities you’ve committed for the organization during your time with them and that you’ve been M.I.A since 2009. Now you’re on an international watchlist. Fantastic. Apparently some very important leaders of the world and other prestige family members alike aren’t very fond of yourself for murdering their adversaries or filthy rich husbands.

But it’s not like you had a choice, Hydra would always alter your memories when they shocked you into forgetting who you even were; thus you’d complete a mission and a couple days or so later would your mind stitch itself back together again the best it could from the electrical trauma. Only the killing part would be a dark and fuzzy memory, thus revealing itself to you in bits and pieces at a time. Soon everything blurred together and you just complied or face getting electrocuted multiple times a session, until your eyes remained empty and dangerous.

Considering you’ve been on the run since that information was released, in this time, you’ve tracked down past agents and doctors alike who had wronged you, considering you now had full access to their recent history. Hence increasing your body count as you went from one country to the next, making the world a tad bit lighter with their darkness whipped from existence.

Although soon enough you became unsettled with the loads of information expunged from Hydra, your mind inevitably making a one eighty back to a certain broody super soldier from your complicated past. He must be in the world somewhere, living as a secret civilian or whatnot. He has to be. And you’ve decided to find him before someone else does.

Maybe it was curiosity, or the fact that he was like you and shared a bloody history with Hydra, but your instinctual drive to find the Winter Soldier eventually drew you the beautiful city of Bucharest, Romania. Although he didn’t make finding him effortless in the slightest, after endless days hacking into network databases looking for even a snippet of information. You found a lead.

Turns out airport security footage is very useful, even more so, footage from around the city’s grant center; and from there you were able to track him to Romania. Eventually after a couple of days in the city, you were able to catch a glimpse of him at the local market place and thus followed him to his little shitty apartment without him as so much as noticing.

Once he left again, you slipped inside and began your wait for his eventual return. But will he even want to speak with you? Does he even remember you? Your memories hadn’t been continuously whipped like his were, granted you were forced into cryo more then once and electroshocked into forgetting your memories. It eventfully stopped once they realized your mind would just heal itself into remembering again, so instead they threatened you with a tracking device deep into your skin tissue that would blow up if you tried to run.

Clearly you eventually found a way around this, as terrible of a memory it gave you.

——

Looking out the window, your ears suddenly pick up the sound of boots stealthily walking down the hallway, they’re incredibly light against the tiles outside, perhaps he somehow knows you’ve been following him. A moment later the scent of a man fills your nostrils and you know he’s inside the apartment. You could barely hear the door.

He’s silent as a mouse, nothing indicating he’s even there except for his rapidly thudding heartbeat that pounds anxiously against his strong chest; you slowly turn to face him. His hat from earlier is gone, dark blue eyes stare warily on you while soft breaths emit from his slightly parted lips. He’s not afraid, but he is nervous.

Folding your arms over your chest, you take a glance around the room, “Nice place.” You confirm casually, eyes back on the Winter Soldier in a second as the corner of your lips pull into a humored half grin, “I’m not here to complete some personal Vendetta against you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then why are you here?” His voice is more curious then cold, maybe he can be reasoned with after all.

Taking a step forward, you shrug, “Wanted to make sure you aren’t still on their side.”

He keeps silent for a moment as you watch him watch you, “I’m done with them.” Mutters Bucky, disgust dripping off his words. That’s exactly what you wanted to hear. Progress.

“Good.” You add with the tiniest of smiles before motioning towards his little kitchen table, “Mind if we sit and talk? As, well...I guess civilians now.”

Studying your face for any indication of falseness and hostility, he’s pleasantly surprised when he finds none. Bucky takes off both of his gloves and sits, metal hand shinning in the low lighting. A threat or a precaution? Maybe he just wants it off?

You follow his example, and soon the two of you sit not even three feet away from each other. Both yourself and Bucky hold an awkward silence for a long moment as the tension in the room rises, shifting your gaze from the counter behind him, you don’t really notice as he trails his eyes over your face, “I remember you.” Reveals Bucky to your great surprise, your eyes falling onto him in an instant, “They sent us on missions together, until you left and they woke me up to kill you for it.”

Smiling, you let out a humored breath of air, “Turns out you didn’t miss me after all. I gave you a nice scar for your troubles though, you still have it?”

Bucky purses his lips into the tiniest of shadowy grins, although no real joy is shown, “It’s a thin little line across my left rib cage. Just barely reached my bone.” Yeah, and I would have if you didn’t punch me in the eye socket first, you think to yourself from when the Winter Soldier had tracked you down. But that’s a long story.

“Glad it’s healed and they didn’t have you come after me a second time. I don’t think I would have let you live again.”

He thinks hard for a second as he processes your words, “You let me live? The first time?”

“Well,” You serenely admit, “I couldn’t exactly kill you...I guess, well....I don’t really know why I didn’t kill you when I had the chance. Guess I’m not as ruthless as Hydra wanted.” You mumble with a conflicted frown, the two of you keep silent before you break the odd tension, “Doesn’t matter now. I heard about what happened in D.C. just like the rest of the world. Gotta say, I was wondering what everyone over there had been getting themselves into.”

“They leaked everything.” Mumbles Bucky with a knowing flash of insight within his dark restless eyes.

“I know.” You add with a slow nod, “I’ve been traveling more cautiously for the past year and a half now. You’d think they’d let us live in peace, of course not. But I guess it means the world knows what a piece of shit organization Hydra is. So that’s something.”

“Yes.” Agrees Bucky, eyes trailing from your fingerless gloves to your face, of course he remembers what hides beneath, “What happened to you since you left?

Fumbling with your fingers as they lay against his table, you turn you head to the window, the ghost of a smile dancing across your lips, “Surviving. You?”

He shifts his gaze back down to his metal hand as you turn to face him, “About the same I’d say.”

Leaning back against your creaky wooden chair, you hand him a small yet friendly smile, “Well then. What of us now? Two ex-assassins alone in the world. With nothing but our wit and fists to keep us afloat.” You add with a low chuckle, he doesn’t crack.

Losing your smile, the two of you keep silent as ghosts for a long moment before Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat, “I got some tea.” Replies the admittedly handsome man now since you have a moment to really look; the briefest hint of a grin revealing itself against his lips for only but a flash of a second. But you still see it.

Fumbling with your fingers you give him a pursed lip grin, “I like tea.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier #marvel imagine #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #series rewrite #bucky barnes #tfatws

341 notes · View notes

stoneworldsimp · 3 years

Text

the dying poet

senku x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of food/water deprivation, swearing

day seven.

fuck, fuck, FUCK!

it felt like you had been running for hours, trying to shake this wild animal off. you made sharp turns behind large bushes in hopes of losing it, you’d hold as still as possible behind large roots on the ground, but the animal kept finding you in one way or another.

“please go away,”you panted. “c’mon. you’ve been chasing me fucking forever, can’t you just give up?!”

you were tired; your legs were about to buckle in on themselves. dinner one night was suddenly ruined when you realized the fucker was watching you eat. in the beginning you thought it was only after your food, not you; you threw a random ration away from your camp in hopes to get it away from you. in hindsight, it only worked until you fell asleep.

you were lucky to wake up the next morning alive; your set up had been ripped to shreds, and footprints were on the ground around your body. it was painstakingly slow and nerve wracking to escape your position, but once you had everything you absolutely needed, you booked it.

sprinting for miles after miles proved to be very difficult for quite some time now.

the phone...it’s weighing me down. my bag of food isn’t even half as heavy as the phone.

looking down at the call button in your hand, you thought about tossing the phone. maybe i can fix it.. no, i don’t have any tools, the fucking animal chewed on them like dog bones. is there any way to put the wire back together...?

“FUCK my life!”

you took the phone off your back and threw it to you left, careful not to trip yourself in the process. immediately, you and your body felt the difference. with your new found energy, the run away was becoming easier, and helped you see a large cave just over the horizon. using the last of your energy, you took as large of steps as you can, and practically threw your body into the cave. the animal’s footsteps were nowhere to be heard, but you figured you didn’t want to take any chances and look behind you. you were finally breaking free from being chased, just a little deeper into this cave, and if i can find specific markings then i can backtrack—

a deep, loud rumble took you away from your thoughts. in no time, you were engulfed in dust and thick particles you didn’t know of.

the caved had closed in.

day one.

“i can do it.”

“are you sure? its a pretty perilous trip—“

“you should at least bring one other person with you—“

you sighed, exasperated that you had to defend your case once again. it had been days since the decision was made; you were going to make a trip to another part of the island in hopes to find extremely specific materials for one of senku’s projects... and it was far, far away.

quite frankly, you were the only one fit for the adventure. you were known to travel well on foot, had an exceptional sense of direction and you had a good eye for natural elements, as well as food; you also were unintentionally the least helpful when staying in the village. you didn’t have the crafting skills to successfully make glass or metal components for his experiments, and you never trusted your brain when helping senku with calculations and blueprints.

hearing senku and gen talk about this long trip to another part of the island was almost a dream come true. it was perfect for someone with your skillset, and kept you from being in the way of everybody else.

“it’ll be fine. c’mon, you guys have SOME faith in our traveler, right?”

you turned around, a smile on your face as you caught senku walking out of his lab. thank you, you mouthed.

once senku reached you and the group of villagers crowding near you, he spoke up again. “this trip is a straight shot from the bridge, the only problem would be that it’s going to take some time. possibly a month just to get there. but you,” he turned to face you,”have excellent outdoorsy-type skills that will make it really easy for you to spot what we need right away. everyone needs to stop worrying, because you’ll be there and back in no time. two months will pass like nothing.”

as the rest of the group walked away, mumbling their skepticisms, senku took your hand and tugged you back to the lab.

“what’re you taking me here for? oh wait,”you planted your feet at the front of the lab curtains, keeping the both of you from entering. “are you making me help you with your math again? because—”

“no, you’re pretty terrible at calculations,”he replied. “i have something for you.”

you puffed out your cheeks in embarrassment, but your expression completely changed once the curtain was opened.

on the table, there was a telephone. if was the size of a backpack, but it still had a speaker, a microphone, and a call button.

“i made it for you to take on the trip, in case you have any emergencies. i fully trust you in your own survival skills, but you never know if something extreme happens.”

you gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. as you walked closer to the table, you touched the outer fabric. you turned back to senku. “thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me. i’m only making something that’s essential to your travels.”

“even still,” you trailed off. “i appreciate it.”

you turned back around and beamed at senku. “i’m not going to call you until i get there. i want to make sure that no enemies try to tail me if they hear me, as much as i’d want to give in right away and hear your voice. something like that...”

“how corny.” senku smiled and pulled you close while you laughed. you jumped a bit when his hands made their way around your waist.

“a bit touchy today,” you asked, grabbing hold of his shoulders. “but i’m not complaining.”

“i’m stockpiling the feeling of you for the weeks to come. we’ve never spent this much time apart before; it’s only logical.”

“i guess you’re right.”

he kissed you, multiple times; each one was deeper than the last.

day eleven.

he brought me a flower every morning, because i always slept in later than him. he’d wake up at the asscrack of dawn, just to have more time to jot ideas down. i used to try and pull him back to sleep with me, but he was so overflowing with plans, i didn’t want to stop him.

you turned on your side.

i remember he went to explore with chrome really early one morning, and apparently they found some huge meadow with a bunch of plants. ever since then, he would bring me a different kind; it was always a single flower, too. they were different colors and shapes, and some were enormous and some were smaller than my finger. he never woke me up for it, though. he would just leave it for me when i woke up on my own. it was always a surprise, almost startling when i’d open my eyes. it was my own pick-me-up for the day, in a sense.. no matter what happened the night before, waking up to a new type of flower would put me in a good mood every time. it was better than a coffee in the morning.

i wonder if he’s looking at the flowers with chrome everyday while i’m gone. man, i still wake up hoping to see a new one in front of me.

sure, reminiscing was fun and felt good, but what’s the point? you had eaten all of your food approximately two days ago, you only had about a teaspoon of water left, and there was no getting out of there. the way you came in had been covered in a dam of rocks. you couldn’t even dig yourself out.

you furiously wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. “senku...why did i think i could go alone?”

day fifteen.

poke, poke—

something was touching you. no, someone was touching you. your head bobbed side to side, in an attempt to shake them off.

damn, that’s persistent.

opening your eyes, you woke up to senku smiling. he was knelt beside your form. “wake up, sleeping beauty! it’s been almost three hours.”

it’s only been three hours?!

you sat up way too fast, and felt lightheaded as you tried to ask,”but...why didn’t you.. wake me up earlier? did everybody...did everyone eat already?”

he laughed. “yeah, sorry. we all thought you were out doing something with chrome. but,” he turned around, to grab something behind him,”i saved some in case you got hungry when you came back.”

you took the food in a dizzy haze. was it even food? you didn’t care too much, it felt like you hadn’t eaten for a long time. any food at this point was good food.

you couldn’t even swallow the first bite. “do you- is there..any water?”

“what?” senku pulled away from you, a look of disbelief painted across his face. it was clear as day.

you hesitated, feeling more lightheaded than before. “w- water?”

“don’t you remember?” he asked. he turned away from you. “there hasn’t been any water in days.”

it’s been days.

your body jolted from its spot, and harsh reality hit you square in the face.

yes, right. you shakily rubbed your eyes to make sure they weren’t cemented shut.

in the cave, finished your food, no water to be found. making yourself walk around was no use, either; without the fuel, your body was essentially just a trembling mess.

you scowled at yourself; unsure of what to do, what to even think.

day eighteen.

you remembered how he kissed you. the first kisses the most; you always had to tell him to not look so terrified. you also had to remind him to not stand like a statue when you kissed. pretty soon, after some reassurance, he got comfortable. there was nothing but confidence in the way he caressed your face in his hands. usually he was the one to pull away; you were so mesmerized, it felt as if the world completely stopped.

they were always quick and out of the way in public. usually, it was on your forehead or your one of your cheeks. the deep kisses you felt when you two were alone were incomparable. soft lips remained on yours for what felt like centuries. he tasted sweet, in his own way—

wait, who?

you licked your lips slowly, trying to think.

it was no use; you couldn’t even remember what he looked like. you lolled your head to the side and stared at the outline of a rock a couple of feet away.

once i get out of here, i’ll kiss him. whoever it was. it won’t matter if it’s just us, or more people. i’ll kiss him forever.

maybe if i go to sleep.. i can see him again.

#dr stone #dr stone x reader #senku ishigami x reader #senku x reader #ishigami senku x reader #ishigami senku #senku ishigami #dr stone imagines #dr stone scenarios #senku ishigami fluff #aahhh this was a little half baked #I’ve been busy what can I say😔#my semesters almost over and I have a placement test #final drivers test(yes I’m 20 and my ass can’t drive legally)#and another performance with my current schools ensemble #despite all of this. I hope u like what is basically my first attempt with angst!#at* not with ew

153 notes · View notes