#I wanted to continue this but never got around to it :') I'm still debating drawing their new fits after they change though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enigmatist17 · 25 days

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Weight of the World (Part 5)

Part 1 2 3 4

This is the final chapter of this, but not of the series I'm doing as a whole I named Branching Path, which you can find on A03 all neatly together :)

---

Spike grumbled as he shifted in his seat for the dozenth time, grateful the first-class cabin was delightfully empty on his side of the aircraft.

Spike was not a fan of flying.

He'd never understood the damn obsession to soar above the earth in these bloody machines, when there were perfectly good things like ships and trains to travel great distances. Yet, it was the only way he was getting to sodding South Africa in the next century, so for now, he'll sit and scowl until they finally land just before dawn. A demon-run taxi business got the vampire to his hotel for the next day, some of the cash Giles had given him securing the vampire a car and the specifics of where it was he needed to go, the demon he'd been dealing with surprised that Spike wanted to go there.

"I've never seen a vampire come back from there, you know."

"If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked." The other shrugs, and Spike spends the day sleeping as much as he can despite the thrum of anxiety underneath his pale skin. By the time the sun sets, a 4-wheel SUV with blacked-out windows is awaiting Spike, and after partaking of some blood that had been packed in the backseat, Spike pulls out his map and begins to drive. It took a solid two days of steady driving to reach his destination, spending most of it debating back and forth if what he was doing was right. Did he deserve this? Did he need this? He'd heard stories of the person he was going to, a demon who could grant wishes of almost any kind if you survived a brutal gauntlet of challenges, the number uncomfortably short from what Spike had heard over the years. Yet here he was, an utter fool going toward what could be death...for a Slayer and her sister.

What has his unlife come to?

His car comes to its final stop outside a small village. Spike drains the last of the blood in his car before he steps out and takes a long and slow breath. Dozens of eyes look over at him almost simultaneously. The humans are still talking and enjoying their evenings but watching a vampire cross through their land with a purpose, ignoring what could be easy meals for the cave system that overlooked their home.

Not many things made a vampire's hair stand on end, but whatever was in these caves made Spike want to turn tail and run. Another breath taken, Spike fished his lighter out of his pocket before flicking it on, wanting to see whatever had been painted on the walls all around him as he advanced. Depictions of death weren't terribly surprising, the drawings becoming more simplistic and looking faded as he cautiously ventured deeper inside, the inquisitive side of him wondering just how old some of these paintings were, just before his flame was snuffed out.

You seek me, vampire?

The voice was everywhere and nowhere all at once, Spike looking around as he continued to venture forward, tucking the lighter back in his pocket.

"You do the finger paintings? Nice work." Spike wanted to cringe at how his normal sass wavered but found that fighting his ever-increasing instincts won out over his pride.

Answer me

"Yea, I seek you."

Something about a woman. The Slayer and her kin made from the stars

"Yea." Spike slowly approached the figure he could now see in the shadows, a low warning hovering in his throat. "Everything's gone to hell, and I'm tired of not being a bad enough bitch for it."

Why does this want you to return to your former self?

The being almost sounds amused, and Spike scowls.

"I can't be the man I wanted to be for the Slayer, never got a soddin' chance, but 'er little sister? She deserves protectin', and I figure I'm the closest thing she's got to one, but I'm no good like this." The vampire waves a hand over himself, and the green eyes continue to watch him. "You know what I want, and I'm willing to do anything."

The being laughs now, the scowl deepening as the figure begins to walk backward.

Look what you've been reduced to, a once legendary dark warrior now pining like a pathetic human. Do you truly believe you will survive what I have for you?

"Give me your best shot." His answer is a snarl, and the being now fades into the darkness surrounding them both.

Prepare yourself vampire.

---

Time seems to pass to the beat of its own drum here. It feels like hours since the being spoke to him, but Spike could be patient; he could wait. He knows that combat and the like will be needed, so to save clothing for later, his boots, socks, and shirt get removed, folded neatly, and placed by some of the cave drawings so he can find his way out when all is done.

It would be done, because he wasn't going to die in some bloody cave, not after everything.

It is time for the first trial, do you understand what I require?

The sudden voice make him flinch, Spike taking a slow and deep breath before nodding, assuming this thing could see him.

"Yea yea, it's not like you haven't been clear about it, oh great, mysterious one." The sass doesn't waver this time; the vampire knows what he's here for and can feel the beginning of his adrenaline rush as he focuses, pacing around the caves that now resemble an arena more than it did a few minutes ago. "This is a test. I don't get what I want unless I pass said test. That about the size and shape?"

Yes

"And since your pad is decked out gladiator-style, and no number two pencils have been provided, I guess we're not starting with the written." He can hear that cursed laugh from wherever the bloody thing is, hands clenching and unclenching as he circles the room. The punch from something behind him sends Spike rocketing to the side, using the wall he fell against as a springboard to land a punch back at whatever it is that had tried to hit him.

It was a massive mountain of a bloke, some sort of joke dancing on Spike's tongue as they sized each other up, but it died just as quickly when the man banged his fists together, lighting them on fire.

To the death

"Son of a -" Heat radiates from the entirety of the right side of his face as Spike is decked with a solid punch, landing back onto his ass as the man quickly moves to follow with more blows. He's able to scramble back to avoid a few hits, but ends up taking one to his chest when Spike quickly gets to his feet, throwing him back enough to slam onto the wall behind him. He doesn't have a chance to move before flaming hands grip his upper arms, skin sizzling as Spike desperately slams his head into the other's face, the man letting out a pained noise and stumbling back. By the time he'd righted, Spike had squirreled away again, the larger man letting out a guttural cry before following after the vampire. While most demons were too prideful to realize when retreat was a wise idea, Spike was not one of those fools, which had served him and his survival well. While he was far more the brawler than his Sire and Grandsire's had ever been, Angelus had carved into him the need to analyze and learn from his more powerful foes when to fight and when to draw things out for the advantage. So he did just that, dodging and weaving while taking continual hits, waiting for his time to strike. It comes when he receives another uppercut to the face, Spike falling to the ground with a groan of pain, the vampire hearing the man rearing up another punch.

He does the worst thing possible and catches the approaching first in his hand. Both he and the other are surprised as Spike uses the distraction to get onto his feet, punching the other man back with a snarl.

"Bad move, bad move, bad move." The other man glares and shoots his arm forward, realizing too late that Spike had leaned down far enough to catch his wrist, flipping him onto the ground with a thud. The vampire wastes no time in kicking the other square between the legs, watching as his enemy turns to try and get up again, exposing his back to Spike, who simply walks over and snaps his neck with a quick jerk of his hands.

"Looks like local boy loses." His words end in a half-delirious laugh, Spike panting heavily as he takes in the victory.

So it would appear

The demon steps forward in curiosity, and Spike gives him a nasty grin.

"Good on me, then, eh? I got what I came for; I passed the test, right?"

Indeed, you have passed the first stage of the test.

"Wait...first stage?" The victory high came crashing down as fast as it had burst in his chest, and the dread of fighting another beast made him tremble slightly. "Bugger."

---

Time truly doesn't pass in these caves, perhaps another test for the poor souls who come to this bloody hell on earth.

Spike had lost count of the foes he faced, demons who looked human to those whom he'd only seen in books, real or otherwise, all trying to kill the vampire like it was their holy calling. He knows it's all a test, a way for the demon who lurked beyond even his own enhanced sight to weed out the weak from the strong or some shit, but he couldn't be arsed to care. He was William the Bloody, no one could best him, and no one was going to take what he came for from him, the latest horned foes going down when Spike sliced its head off. Exhausted, Spike grabs the head and staggers back to the entrance of his latest combat arena, chucking the head towards those bloody green eyes.

"That was a bloody doddle and a piece o' piss." He groaned, falling to his knees for just a moment's rest, glaring at those eyes with as much fury as he could muster. "Got any more ruddy tests for me, you ponce? I'll take anything you can throw at me, if it'll get me what I need. Bring it on, bring on the whole -" He stops when there's a loud crunching noise from below him, throat tightening when he feels something begin to crawl up from the depths and up his body. "Bloody hell..."

There are hundreds of them, hundreds of scarab beetles that scrape and gnaw at his skin, crawling into his nose and mouth and it's pure agony.

He's not sure when he fell down, but he didn't scream, just writhing around on the floor as he kept them in, hands clenched so hard he pierced his skin as the agony continued for what felt like an eternity.

Buffy and Dawn, Buffy and Dawn, he loves them so much he won't scream.

Soon, merciful darkness takes him.

The thudding of approaching footsteps is what drags him from the darkness, his body so battered Spike can do little more than to lie on the floor and see what awaited him next.

You have endured the required trials

"Bloody right I have." He doesn't ever want to move again, but he refuses to face this bastard on the ground, so with a shuddering breath Spike turns and pushes himself onto his knees, knowing he wasn't going to be making it fully upright.

"Give me what I want." Spike shudders at the cool air to his back, the chant of Buffy and Dawn keeping him from revealing any weakness. "Make me what I was, what I need."

Very well. We will return your soul

Spike doesn't see the hand that comes from the darkness; the moment it touches him, the world burns. His entire body is burning as something he'd forgotten claws its way inside, settling into a hole he'd never felt and searing its very presence into every square inch of his body. His eyes glow as he looks for something, anything, to stop the pain, but there is nothing there but the darkness of the caves.

You walk with a soul once more

Spike struggles to force air down his dead lungs as the burning begins to slowly fade, head spinning as he crawls up and onto his feet, now very alone and closer to the exit than he remembered. He can hear someone talking, more than one someone, but they go unacknowledged by the vampire when another effect of his newly acquired soul hits him like a freight train.

The screaming washed over him like a tidal wave, and Spike fell to his knees with wide eyes as voices from the last 120 years clamored to be heard, all of them so angry.

He doesn't feel the needle that is inserted into his neck, once more falling into a darkness that now terrifies him more than anything.

----

Three weeks later

----

Wesley Wyndam-Price was finishing up the last of his paperwork for the evening when he heard the front door to the Hyperion open. He sighed at his now lost evening before going to greet whoever appeared.

"Hello, welcome to - " His jovial greeting dies in his throat when he takes one look at the person who had entered. "Spike?"

The vampire who had entered said nothing in return, and had it not been for the platinum-blonde tips to curly brown hair, Wesley wasn't sure if he would have recognized Spike right away. It doesn't help his infamous duster is also missing, the vampire wavering in place clad in scuffed boots and ripped jeans, his black shirt little more than shreds from something that had clawed at it repeatedly. Spike doesn't seem to be aware of his surroundings; whatever he's saying to himself is a constant stream of languages that switch faster than Wesley can pick up, his eyes soon wandering toward the door.

"Spike, you don't need to go." Spike's eyes snap to Wesley, but it's clear he's not all there, the other slowly raising his hands. "You're quite safe here, I promise."

"No, no, no, no, no one's safe from William." The words are nearly drowned out by the crazed giggles Spike bursts into, the sound nearly making Wesley jump. The vampire wavers in place before deciding a nearby bench is a place to take refuge, collapsing onto it, and curling in on himself with more giggles. "I'm not safe, not safe, not safe, not safe." He seems to be done talking as he tries his best to imitate an armadillo; Wesley slowly steps backward until he can reach the phone on the front desk, dialing a familiar number as quick as his shaking fingers can.

"Hello?" Relief floods Wesley, and after another check to see if Spike has still not moved, he relaxes further. "Hello?"

"It's me....Angel, he's here."

"Don't let him leave; I'll be right down." The line clicks as it goes dead, and Wesley carefully places the receiver down before approaching the curled-up man with what he hopes is a friendly smile.

"Spike?" The man doesn't move, except for one eye peering out from the little space between his limbs. "Are you in any pain?"

"Pain?" The answer is slightly muffled, and Spike begins to laugh again after a moment. "I deserve it, the pain. All of it, all of it because the voices are right; they are right because I am a bad, bad, bad, bad man, a bad man whom you should stake. It's justice, innit?"

"No, I don't believe it is." The former Watcher moves closer, that impossible eye following him without a blink, wanting to say more, but pauses when a familiar figure hovers in his peripheral, stepping back to allow them to step forward.

"Angel." Spike's voice is flat when his grandsire kneels beside him, his expression neutral as the other looks at him. "Have you come to kill me?"

"No." The older vampire shakes his head, Spike flinching when he raises his hand and covers his head again.

"Please stop, please stop I'm sorry." Angel gently rests his hand over one of Spike's hands, the smaller man trembling like a leaf in the wind when he gives a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry."

"I know." Angel remains by Spike's side for a good hour, the man switching between pleads and bouts of laughs he can't stop until finally, Spike uncovers his head again.

"Can I rest now?"

#buffy the vampire slayer #spike #spike btvs #william the bloody #william pratt #angel #angel btvs #wesley wyndam pryce #season 5 #this is the last one of this set #but not of the series I have going on for this #personal

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dontmindifidontt · 2 years

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EARLY MORNINGS AND OVERTIME | Nanami Kento x Reader JJK fanfic | Chapter 13: Together

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader (fem, first person pov) Word count: 3652 Fic Summary: A smutty fic in which Nanami Kento brightens up the mundane, flour-dusted life a college dropout working in a bakery. Chapter Summary: A terrifying truth comes to light, forcing our baker to take her biggest risk yet. No smut warnings this chapter.

Read on AO3. Masterlist. Please feel free to ask me to correct anything in the above info, this is my first fic and I want to be sure I’m following all fic-posting etiquette. Ty!

“There is something to worry about.”

The sentence nearly brings me to my knees.

I can see the pain written on Nanami’s face and my heart drops to my stomach in an instant. I knew this was all too good to be true.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I can barely get the words out.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you about the night you decided to start training.”

My head races as I think back to that night... that’s when we were attacked by a curse on the sidewalk leaving the class at the restaurant. What started as a romantic date night quickly turned into the most dangerous situation of my life.

I meet Nanami’s gaze, and I barely have the strength to ask what he means. It must be clear by the look on my face I’m waiting for him to go on. He clears his throat before starting.

“We weren’t attacked by just one curse that night... there were actually two.”

It takes all my effort not to double over as my chest feels like it's caving in. I'm completely still with shock and yet it feels as if the wind was knocked out of me. It was that bad? And I was totally clueless...

Nanami continues on as I stand motionless, “But I only exorcised one of them.”

My jaw drops as I stare at him in stunned silence. A million questions flood my mind. Does that mean it got away? Has it reappeared without me knowing it? Is he in danger?

Before the panic renders me useless I take a deep breath and remember the progress I’ve made since I first met Nanami. I’m not powerless anymore. I took the time to begin training because I survived this exact attack he’s talking about now. I don’t need to be scared.

Looking him right in the eye, I inhale and square my shoulders back before reminding Nanami, “I started training because I want to be able to not only defend myself, but help you too. You shouldn’t have kept that from me.” Before he can say anything, I add, “I want to train some more. Soon. So that whatever is wrong, we can face together.”

He walks away from the doorway of the closet where our conversation began, and takes a seat on the edge of our bed. Resting his elbows on his knees, he stares forward.

“I should have told you this while you were training. I didn’t think it would be an issue because I didn’t think there would be any reason for this curse to bother us again..." he sucks in a breath, "until it did.”

“It WHAT?” I stalk forward to where he’s seated in a flash, unable to believe what I’m hearing. “It came back?!”

“Never when you were around.” He pauses, wincing. “But I’m afraid that trend may break.”

“What are you talking about?”

Taking another deep breath, Nanami starts, “It seems to... taunt me. Like it’s trying to seek out revenge for me exorcizing the other curse. It gets close enough to hurt me but then vanishes before I even have the chance to draw my weapon.”

“But why just you? We were both there. You only exorcized the other one because I distracted it!”

“I know, and it still pains me when I’m reminded of the fact that you had to do that.” Nanami drags a hand through his hair, shaking his head in frustration. “For now it’s only been taunting me when you’re not around, but there’s no way to know if that pattern will change.”

I begin to debate with myself internally. The way this entire situation is unfurling around me can be handled in very different ways. I could rightfully explode at Nanami for keeping me in the dark about this, which... maybe I will at a later time... or I could do what I’ve been wanting to do since I first found out what the hell was going on in this world of sorcery. I could help.

Dropping onto the edge of the bed beside him, I wrap my arms around Nanami and lean my head against him. “You don’t have to hide this from me. Let me help. Train me to be even stronger and then we won’t have to worry about these things at all.”

“I’m just afraid of what may happen to you,” he confesses, “I refuse to put you in any situation that could hurt you.”

“I’m not made of glass you know,” I try to force even a chuckle out of him but he doesn’t laugh.

“I should be able to handle this on my own.” He sounds defeated, admitting this in a quiet voice I can barely hear. It hurts to hear this strong, capable man sound so utterly crushed.

“No, you shouldn’t have to.” I will never understand why he is so set on dealing with these problems on his own. What is he so afraid of? He has to understand that I’m willingly choosing to be with him, and choosing to learn to fight curses knowing the risks.

“I feel like I’ve already failed you before, and no amount of training can redeem that.”

Something in me breaks at the pain in his voice, and I can’t stop myself from holding his face in my hands. “Please. Let us handle this together. When we take even the toughest problem on together we can’t fail.”

Slowly looking over at me, a sense of clarity seems to cast across Nanami’s face.

“Together,” he says the word like it’s the first time he’s ever felt comfortable allying himself with another person.

“Together,” I repeat, still holding his face in my hands.

______________________________

Things have shifted. Or rather, Nanami has shifted. It truly feels that he’s taken our conversation to heart, and has learned to trust the fact that we’re a team. He doesn’t have to shoulder the burden anymore. It’s taken the entirety of our relationship so far for him to realize this. Though something tells me he’ll never truly be able to give up his protective ways.

It didn’t take much convincing to plan our next training session. Rather than traveling to the outskirts again, he’s rented space in an indoor workout studio for us to practice in the city. He has yet to see this lingering curse again, but he does an awful job of trying to hide the fact he’s always looking over his shoulder.

“If it’s taunting you for revenge, do you think this curse actually... cared for the other one you exorcized? Are they capable of that?” I muse aloud to Nanami while stretching one arm over the other across my chest. This workout studio is massive, more like a gymnasium, and allows us to practice both short and long-distance combat in private.

Switching arms, I’m careful not to knock my glasses off the scoop neck collar of my shirt. I’ve gotten into the habit of keeping the glasses handy, just in case.

“That’s what I haven’t been able to quite grasp,” Nanami replies while unpacking some training weapons and tools from his athletic bag. “I wasn’t aware curses could be connected like this - the few times it’s reappeared it makes its presence known but doesn’t advance on me to attack. It just... wants me to know it’s watching.”

I shudder at the thought. It feels so... invasive.

Suddenly an idea crosses my mind and I shudder for an entirely different reason. If it’s revenge it wants, and Nanami took away someone it cared about, does that mean... it wants to take away someone Nanami cares about? Am I its target?

I feel as if I’m about to be sick. Sinking to the ground, I act as if I meant to tie my shoe and stretch my hamstrings. Hiding my head while pulling against the bottom of my foot to stretch, I continue to frantically mull over the situation.

This is bad. But I can’t tell Nanami about my suspicions or he’ll never stop worrying. If I thought he was protective before, this theory of mine will takes things to a whole new level... not to mention the guilt he's already stricken with just for getting me involved.

My mind races, and I can feel myself beginning to spiral. There must be a way for me to fix this, to come up with a plan. I should be keying Nanami in to my suspicions about this curse, but I don’t want to worry him if I don’t know for certain what’s going on. He would never be able to live with himself if he felt at fault for putting me in danger.

I bite my lip, every second of worrying beginning to make me sweat. I think back to all of the times I’ve been hurt by Nanami’s secret-keeping, and here I am planning to do the same. Every thought I have is immediately met with another what if.

Continuing to war with myself internally while halfheartedly pretending to focus on stretching, I make up my mind. Keeping my suspicions secret from Nanami isn’t necessarily the right thing to do, but preventing his worrying and guilt feels like the kindest option. I hope.

“Ready to begin?”

I almost gasp when the sound of Nanami’s voice pulls me from the near-trance my inner debate just put me in. With shaky knees I stand up and continue stretching my arms as if muscle soreness is the only reason I’m weak on my feet.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond with my best attempt at normalcy. I can’t let him know something is up.

“Let’s practice close combat more intently today,” suggests Nanami.

“We don’t usually do that - why start with those exercises today?” The nervous sweat continues to bead down the back of my neck. For him to want me to practice my close combat… is he thinking the same thing I’m thinking?

“It’s important for you to know.” That’s the only response I get from him before he turns to his weapons bag and begins to sift through the jam-packed duffel.

I spot a weapon shaped like a butcher knife, almost identical to Nanami’s own, right as he begins to reach for it. Panic seeps in yet again and I wrack my brain for ways to prevent my fears from becoming reality. I can’t do this to him - I can’t let him think I’m in danger because of him.

I’m so nervous the room begins to spin.

“Can we not train anymore? I uh, don’t feel well.” My statement is only partially false.

Nanami immediately whips his head back to look at me while I sit back down onto the ground. He’s by my side before I can even blink and asking me what’s wrong.

What do I tell him without getting him worried? Definitely not the truth. I need to distract him, to distract us both.

“I feel nauseous all of a sudden.” Another half lie-half truth. “I just need a distraction is all, that usually helps me when I feel sick.”

Sitting on the padded gym mat on the floor alongside me, Nanami wraps his arms around me and leans me back against his chest as gently as I’ve ever felt. “A distraction, hmm? I’ve got plenty of those.” His thumb begins to caress my thigh idly and his teasing tone of voice almost makes me smile to myself despite my racing nerves. Somehow he can make me swoon even in the most stressful of times.

Maybe that’s why I’m not thinking straight when I blurt aloud, “Why don’t you distract me with our fake proposal story? The one you so expertly drummed up the night of our cooking class together.”

He tenses slightly and I’ve suddenly become intently focused on staring holes into my shoelaces. As surprised as I am at myself for bringing this up, I can’t help but be glad for the way this will sidetrack us completely from the subject of training and vengeful curses.

Nanami clears his throat a bit before starting. “I was able to drum that up pretty good on the spot, huh?” He says this like it’s a rhetorical question, almost to himself. “I guess the story just felt… believable.”

Now I can’t help but smile to myself as I recall the fake story Nanami told the cab driver who took us to our cooking class and assumed we were married. Nanami immediately explained without hesitation that we met while out buying baguettes in the same bakery in Paris, and then returned to the city a year later on our anniversary where he proposed over an elaborate picnic.

Maybe it seems believable because I want to believe that story is real.

Still sitting across his lap, I tilt my head slightly to look at him. He looks wistful, as if recalling a real memory.

Almost shakily, I start, “It feels believable to me too.” I can’t help but admit it, and his eyes quickly shift down to look at me. The smile he wears in response is more sad than happy, and full of longing.

“I wish being ‘believable’ was all it took.” He practically mumbles.

“What do you mean?” I shift myself even more, getting a better look at him.

“I mean- I don’t know what I mean,” he looks away as he says this, as if he can’t even make eye contact with me anymore.

“You don’t think we’re capable of one day being a married couple with a nice love story?” I try to keep my tone calm but his change in mood is already worrying me. I’d be lying if I said the thought hasn’t crossed my mind before. The more time we spend together, the more times I hear him breathlessly tell me he loves me when we’re in bed together; I can’t help but picture what’s in store for us in the future.

He instantly picks up on my confusion and starts to correct himself. “I don’t mean that. I mean… I’m not capable of it.”

“What are you talking about?” I fully remove myself from his lap now, pushing back on my hands so that I’m sitting across from him. I try to hold his gaze but he’s shifting his eyes too much to focus on me.

He rubs his face with his hand, suddenly looking regretful for voicing whatever concern he’s just admitted about himself.

“I say I’m not capable of that kind of nice, happy lifetime love story because look at what my lifetime entails.” He gestures broadly around us before he continues on while I stare at him in confusion. “I feel no right to promise myself to be in a lifelong commitment to someone when I’m putting myself in situations that could end my life any day.” Once again he gestures to the bag of weapons across the gym, alluding to the dangerous work of exercising curses he can’t seem to escape from.

He feels like it’s wrong for him to marry someone because he’s so often in danger? I would think to myself that he’s out of his mind to view his own life choices this way, but I know him too well to think he wouldn’t sacrifice his own happiness for the sake of someone else's safety.

I’m stunned for a second before I can respond, my mouth opening and closing with words I can’t seem to find.

After all we’ve been through, does he really think it’s best to shut the door on a long-term future? Without even trying? He would give up his own chance at happiness with someone, with me, because he wants to prevent them from heartache?

Now the room is spinning again for an entirely different reason. Before I realize it, my body is moving without my mind controlling it, and I’m standing. I can barely feel my feet as I begin to walk away without a word - just needing air.

“Wait-“ Nanami calls after me and I can hear him getting up to follow me.

I could turn around and hear him out.

I could stop walking away and remind him we’re in this together, that I want to be together.

Or, I could make the same sacrifice he seems to want to make.

A curse can’t go after me for revenge against Nanami if we’re no longer together, right?

What if this is what it takes to spare him the heartache of feeling responsible for the curse's threat to hunt me down? It's only a matter of time until the curse succeeds...

I pause, stopping in my tracks but not yet turning around to face him. I take a deep breath before slowly turning.

“You’re right.” At first, those are the only words I can get out.

“No, I wasn’t right, I don’t know what I was saying. I love you too much to let those fears get in the way of us.” The words begin to spill out of Nanami’s mouth and I can hear the sincerity in his voice. It nearly knocks me over with how much I love him back.

But I have to do this. Because I love him.

“Don’t you wonder why I said you’re right?” I have to force the words out because I know they’re going to be hurtful but that’s the only way this will work. “I say you’re right because I agree. I don’t want to be with someone who promises me a lifetime but puts themselves in situations that could harm them.” Here’s the part I know will break him but I have to do it: “Or harm me.”

I can see the sadness zap the light out of his eyes in an instant. His mouth opens but no words come out as he begins to reach for me, pain and desperation covering his features.

“I would never let-“ he starts but I don’t let him finish before I turn on my heel and yank my arm away before his fingers can clasp around it.

“I’m done. You just opened my eyes and made me see our situation clearly for what it is.” I’m walking towards the door once again and hear him following.

I have to say the final blow so he doesn’t pursue me out. So whatever curse is threatening him with taunts to hurt me knows we’re over and won’t be able to hold that leverage over him anymore.

“If you can’t promise me a future that has you safe in it, then I never want to see you again.”

With that I’m bolting out the door before he can see the hot tears that flood my vision.

I burst through the metal double doors that lead to the sidewalk outside the gymnasium and gasp for air. Disbelief fills me for what I’ve done, but the smallest part of me feels secure in knowing that if my plan works I’ve just saved Nanami from the heartache and regret-filled guilt he was bound to feel if this curse caught up to us.

Knowing he’s bound to follow me outside, I walk in the opposite direction of his car and follow wherever my feet take me. I don’t have a destination but I know I can’t go home. To his home. Our home.

I take random turns and focus more on not hyperventilating than remembering which direction to walk in. It doesn’t take long before I’m in an unfamiliar area with no idea where to turn next.

The stress of the past couple hours suddenly begins to close in on me, and the severity of my situation makes my legs shake. Not only have I potentially destroyed the relationship I cared about most, but I managed to also get myself lost in an unknown part of town without any contact with the one person I can always count on to help me when I need it.

Taking yet another turn, I find myself on a quiet street. No homes, no foot traffic, only shops or stores that that look functioning yet empty. How did I even manage to walk so far out?

As I begin to turn on my heel in an attempt to trace my steps, I hear the only other noise besides my feet on this otherwise silent street.

It’s not quite footsteps… more of a scuttling sound. Garbage cans and trash littering the side of a building clang with movement and my breath catches in my throat. It’s now obvious I’m not alone.

All this time I thought I was walking away from that gym and keeping Nanami safe in the process. Distancing myself, and therefore the curse, from him. Releasing him from the trap of my fate. Only now, as the impending scuttling footsteps presumably belonging to my hunter close in, I realize I was wrong.

The curse set the trap, and I blindly led myself straight into the net.

….

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#jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #nanami jjk #jjk angst #nanami kento #nanami kento fanfic

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rayedraws · 8 months

Text

Burnout is no joke

I have alluded to my burnout but never spoke at length about it. I think in many ways I’m still processing what happened and what led to it. It’s hard for me to put into words what it was that I felt and continue to feel. I felt a little lost when it happened, but I have spoken about this at length with friends and even reached out to artists I admire (and to my surprise got replies back!) and it really helped me put things in perspective. It's very important to acknowledge the symptoms and always reach out for help when you feel like you're on your way or have burnt out. Sometimes people have different perspectives that may be able to help you.

First, I want to thank those who stayed with me through my long hiatus and continue to enjoy the work I put out even though it’s a massive shift in what I used to draw. This means more to me than I can ever express in words.

One of the reasons it’s so hard to talk about is that I’m not entirely sure when it all began. If I had to pinpoint where things were going wrong would be around 5 years ago. And 3 years ago I sort of just… disappeared. Not answering messages and maybe posting 1 or 2 bits of art that year. The truth is, I was debating whether or not to delete my account and just disappear for good.

Thankfully I spoke to my friends about what I felt and even reached out to some of my favourite artists and got a reply back. I held a very heart-to-heart conversation with one of them and it really put a lot of things in perspective for me. Being honest about what I was doing was difficult, especially to someone I considered highly but it made me realise what I was doing was incredibly unhealthy.

When I typed out what I wanted to say and even removed large chunks of text it felt like I just droned on. If you are interested in knowing in more detail, by all means, my notes are open.

In summary, I allowed people to dictate what I created, and I began to create artwork that I wasn't fully happy with because I just wanted to be relevant and liked. In many ways, I noticed I had regressed in quality and style and freaked out that I wasn't getting better with time. In many ways, I fell for the trap where I'd produce not because I liked what I did but because I thought it would get me noticed and liked. After my heart-to-heart, I closed commissions for a long while and began to think about what I wanted. What I wanted to draw. What I thought was fun[/. I have changed. And after a while, it didn't feel right to hold on to a style I wasn't connected to.

This is why my style changed because I allowed it to naturally head in that direction. I’m now at the other end feeling empowered, content and emboldened. Even if it doesn’t get as much traction as it did before, the best thing that came out of this is that I am actually happy. Truly happy. I think this is why there is such a stark contrast in what I'm posting. I'm enjoying what I'm doing and every time I push just a little further. Just because I could do the style doesn't mean I should have solely focused on it.

I got to mess around and be playful with my work and got to a style I’m so comfortable with and feels like it's more "me" than the style I kept just for the sake of relevancy.

I’m still not fully out of burnout. Some don’t realise the effects of burnout can take so long to overcome. I know my journey will differ from many. In my case, being able to focus on what I wanted and needed from my art (as well as my own personal project) helped me gain my love for it back. Don't ignore your needs in terms of art. What you have to say to the world matters just as much.

In the next coming weeks when I open commissions again, I will do it with the knowledge and experiences of the past to make sure I don’t overwhelm myself or ignore my needs.

#art burnout #burnout

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madfantasy · 2 years

Text

Dear blogging

I haven't for the longest time been okay I lost track tbh.. and talking was not an option in the middle of the seemless cycle of trance, despair or emptiness, but honestly, what is there to add, i tried to just draw, post and not bother anyone ...

There were glimpses of hope, lit here and there, and before one could properly prosper they fizzle, leaving only the vauge trale of their existence. Faint smell of sweet that stings..

Guardians showed promising changes, yet easily fell back to the stabbings that bleeds my sanity dry. Events edging to happen, but they seep into the forgetfulness of an average working person, and the never ending suspense for an isolated person like Mani, who have nothing better to do than agonisingly feel every second passing.

Things seemed to never matter, even the things i try to pour my heart out on, in art form. Riding the waves, simply drawing with no purpose, opposing my crave of having higher goals, to a point I didn't think I can raise myself from, as if it was too late. Nullified, everyday it's a pretend or don't leave the bed today, day. I couldn't make myself want anything

Even when I heard my guardians saying they found a buyer for our home, for the tenth time, i was not moved the first time and certainly not now. My guardian came back with an envelope of the house sale costs and the contract signed, our home literally HAS been sold, the place i thought no one will ever buy, we would never could leave, got my guardians into many spiraling holes of debts trying to renovating it and failing.

Everything happened so fast after.

We went to see the new house, the same house my guardians swooned over, that I had a dream about, a room decorated in blue, and it happened to be there, and now they rented it.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSe3P5Tso/

And all to up to that point I was just thinking that how are we to continually pay the rent of this house. But then my guardian said to me this will be your room, and it was a room with a black wall, and not only one, but two windows.. a window. Something never before I had in life. I was all smiles when we returned. Ruined by my guardians starting a fight again and it reached a critical moment that I was actually debating the darkest things.

I wasn't too phased about the whole thing because this is the same life as ever I knew, we moved to many homes out of necessity, and only see the outside world through those journies from home to home. It's like I had a reawakening filled with weeping. Hated how I memorised every detail of the houses walls, only to forget it the second we leave to another, again to start unnaturally knowing the deeper intricacy of a building, from how long I blankly stared at..

In the middle of all that, a little voice in my head was wondering if i could buy red curtains to the windows and wake up to a warm room of heart fluttering red, now the sun can reach me. It continued, wondering if can have many red things posed against the black wall to stimulate my overwhelming desire to have everything in my life red and black. It said now I can practice talking loudly, I have more room to move, i can dance on an even floor and not have my feet soles needle pains from the uneven floor I had the displeasure of standing on, now they left us their cabinet, I can use it for my clothes like a real room, I can get a starry nightlight and decorate my room with my posters.. it's all I can think about now.. and I have already made a wishlist of furniture, idk if I can get it or will they ship them to me, but the process made me happy

I told my guardians the car drive made me feel alive, something I wouldn't disclose normally with em, surprisingly they were like, that's good when we settle we can drive around more..

I'm in the middle of packing, still. I'm super tired and yeah

I wish you all the well of this world, be safe, I'm sorry for your hurts, I'm happy for your joy, I wish I can do more, I wish I can be less than this.. please take care, love u lots

#text #personal

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ava-achlys · 3 years

Text

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Lee Juyeon - Breaking Dawn

Frenemies! Juyeon x fem! reader

Warnings: hate-fucking, degradation, pegging, sex toys, enemies(?) with benefits, sub!Juyeon, mild dubious consent

"Breaking Dawn, more like breaking your back" -Eric Sohn, 2021. Thanks for the inspo, Eric 🤣 I hope you guys like this one, bottom Juyeon has been on my mind for a while 💕

You and Juyeon have been rivals for as long as you can remember, but he somehow always tops you, both in academics and in the bedroom. One day, your offhand comment about you being a better top than him turns into a challenge, and Juyeon and his ego won't back down.

"Fuck you," Juyeon spits harshly, panting into the bed sheets. You smirk at him, thrusting your fingers deeper in his hole, causing him to moan lowly. "No baby, did you forget I'm the one fucking you?" Your tone is saccharine sweet, yet so sinister. Juyeon shivers, unable to hide how much he wants you, despite the venomous words and dark looks he gives you.

You pull your lube-coated fingers out of his ass and he whines, clenching around air, the cold wetness of the residual lube on the edge of his hole arousing him. You laugh and spank his ass, basking in the fact that only you get to see this side of Juyeon. He thrusts his hips back, clearly wanting more, and you debated giving it to him. Spanking him made you feel in control, but if he wanted it, then there was no point. Instead, you huffed and busied yourself with fastening the strapon to your hips, ignoring the squirming boy in front of you.

Getting annoyed, you slap his thigh instead, drawing a high pitched moan from him. "Would you stay still for once?!" You hiss and he turns to glare at you, his large hand inching towards his aching cock. "If you could just hurry up and fuck me, I wouldn't be such a brat." You scoff and roll your eyes. He had always been a brat behind closed doors, and only to you. He was always teasing and edging you, holding your orgasm out until you broke down your pride and begged him for release, which obviously fed his massive ego. Now that the tables have turned, you realise he's going to be just as difficult. The little shit would never back down from a challenge, which led the both of you into this position in the first place.

You smack his hand away from his cock and open up a condom. He looks questioningly at the foil in your hands and you can't resist the urge to piss him off, so you grab him by the chin, and his pretty eyes look up at you with nervous excitement. "Do you not want me to wear a condom? Want me to fuck you raw instead? Bet if this was a real dick you'd want me to cum inside you, fill you up and breed you like the little whore you are, don't you?" You sneer at him, and his breath hitches. You grip his jaw harder so he opens up wider, and you spit into his mouth. Juyeon's eyes roll back into his head at the taste of you, and his whole body shivers at your humiliating words.

He swallows with difficulty and tries to avoid your eyes. He never begs. He always makes you beg for his cock, that's how it's supposed to go. But he needs you now. And you know he does. "P-please," he whispers so faintly that you almost didn't catch it. You pull his jaw to make him look you in the eyes and ask him to repeat himself. "Please... fuck me," he pleads with those pretty, glittering eyes of his. You shrug and decide to oblige, since he asked so nicely for once. You shove him onto his back, spreading his long legs open and slipping the condom onto your strap-on. He's trembling as he watches you, his position making him feel so exposed and vulnerable, his leaking cock standing tall. You kneel between his legs and hitch them up onto your shoulders. You loom over him, and 6 ft tall Juyeon has never felt smaller in his life.

You ease the tip of the dildo into his hole, and he whimpers at the intrusion. You glance up at him, and he gives the subtlest nod, and you continue pressing your length into him. He grips the bedsheets in discomfort, but he soon feels the pleasurable stretch of his walls creeping up on him. You can't deny you're a tad worried, but you refuse to show your concern, so you keep an impassive mask and continue until you've fully bottomed out. You lean over him, your hand on either side of his head, and his eyes are shut tightly, getting used to the dildo inside him for the first time. He looks so pretty like this, you think. Feline eyes, sharp nose, high cheekbones, glossy red lips. You can see why everyone is head over heels for him, but your contempt for his behaviour is what drives you away from him. He's quite cute when he's not pissing you off in private or taking credit for your contributions to the club, and especially not when he's whispering filthy words in your ears in bed. But he knows exactly how to keep you coming back to him; with his hands, his mouth, and his massive dick.

"Move," he whispers hoarsely, his eyes still shut. You tap his cheeks so he looks at you, and you slowly start moving your hips, pulling out a little and pushing back into him gently. "Mmmhh, ahhh, fuck," his little noises are muffled by the arm he's thrown over his mouth, and you pull it away, wanting to hear more. You thrust into him harder and deeper this time, and he's holding the bedsheets in a death grip with the effort of concealing his moans, knuckles turning white. "Come on Juyeon, let me hear your pretty voice. Tell me how good I'm fucking you," you mock him in a singsong voice. "Shut up," he barks, still trying to remain composed. You roll your eyes and pull out almost all the way, leaving your tip inside him, and slam into him fully, and a strangled moan rips from his throat. 1 point for you, you think.

You continue to fuck him at a brutal pace, his hard cock oozing precum and bobbing from the force of your hips snapping into his. His whines turn into broken groans and eventually loud shameless moans and curses. He doesn't dare to look at you anymore, opting to face the ceiling as you pound into him, his large body sliding up the bed with your every thrust. You changed angles, unsatisfied with his reactions and hit that bundle of nerves inside him, and he cums unexpectedly, spurting ropes of creamy cum all over himself. He actually lets out a sob at the feeling of relief that his orgasm brings, but you had no plans on stopping. You pull out and Juyeon winces, only for you to flip him over, your adrenaline lending you some strength to move the much taller and heavier boy. Cumming untouched, that's 2 points for you now.

He yelps as you force him onto his hands and knees, protesting as his legs feel like jelly, but you weren't going to win so easily. You wanted him to admit that he lost. You slip your dildo back into him and fuck him again, his cum sliding off his sweaty body and dribbling pathetically from his still-hard cock onto the bedsheets. He gasps for air and pleads for you to stop, and yet he moves his hips back to meet yours every time. You spank his ass and he mewls, a tiny, pathetic sound from a large, cocky man, and you know he's going to break soon. "I can't.. I can't take much more, I think I'm gonna cum again," he whines into the pillows. "Go on, then. Cum for me. Say my name, Juyeon, tell me how I good I make you feel," you demanded as you reach down to grasp his cock.

He gasps at the oversensitivity, and the cold tone of your voice. You were barely keeping it together at this point, your pussy dripping with slick at how beautifully wrecked Juyeon looked beneath you, and his breathless chants of your name as he climaxes for the second time that night, his cock feebly spurting whatever cum was left in his balls onto your hand. He collapses onto the sheets, no longer having the strength to prop himself up. He tiredly rolls over onto his back and looks up at you, eyes glazed over. You lean over him again, your faces just a few inches apart. "Was I that good, Juyeonie?" You smirked at him. He blushes and tries to turn his face away but you hold him in place, and stick your cum-splattered fingers in his mouth, making him groan at the taste of himself. "Say it, Juyeon."

His glassy eyes shyly look up at you and he mumbles as best as he can around your fingers, "Mmfh, ffank you for f-fucking me so good." You beam at him, and pull your fingers out of his mouth. You get up off the bed, disposing of the condom and taking off your strap-on. You head into the bathroom to get a damp towel to clean him up with, trying to ignore the dull ache between your thighs as you walked. You come back and he's avoiding eye contact, wincing slightly as you wordlessly wiped him down, despite the warmth of the towel. Once you were done, you took a quick shower, deciding you'd just get off by yourself later and got dressed, Juyeon eyeing you tiredly from the bed. You're about to leave when Juyeon suddenly sits up, grimacing at the pain in his lower back. "Wait! Did you cum at all? You were so quiet but you were eating me up with your eyes the whole time," he belatedly realises.

You turn back to face him. "Does it matter?" you deadpan. "The point of this was to prove that I'm a better top than you. Some bottom you are too, couldn't even make me cum. Maybe this will take that over-inflated ego of yours down a notch, hmm?" you sneer, ignoring the crestfallen look on Juyeon's face as you walk out and slam the door shut. You let out a heavy sigh as you leave his apartment, looking out at the sky, the first rays of the morning sun breaking through the clouds. You're immersed in your thoughts as you make your way back to your place, an uncomfortable feeling in your gut to accompany the discomfort in your loins. You've never left his apartment before daybreak, the two of you always waking up on different sides of the bed and you quietly leaving with just enough time to shower and change at home before going for your classes. Even if you saw Juyeon around on campus or debate club meetings, it was all polite smiles and casual conversations, but the animosity really showed in bed. He was good in bed, you just hated how cocky he gets. Now that you flipped the switch, you think maybe you've gone too far.

3 points, you've finally won, but has victory always tasted this bittersweet?

A/N: This might have been a shit ending, but like, I dunno anymore. Sorry bout that 😅

#achlys: tbz imagines #the boyz #the boyz smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #juyeon #juyeon smut #the boyz juyeon #sub!juyeon

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soccerximagines · 3 years

Note

Could you do a Jesse Lingard imagine? One where you're his daughters babysitter and every time he's off to training, you're at his place, babysitting Hope. He's had feelings for you since you started working with them a few months ago and Hope practically is crazy in love with you. One day Jesse makes it home early, catching you baking with his little princess while singing to Frozen songs and debating about which ice cream flavour is best. Your shift doesn't finish till another hour so you're still around, this time Jesse joining in on the rest of your activities and he watches while you put Hope out for her nap, adoring you more. You have small talk as you make your way to leave but before you do, he asks you out.

Ooo I'm excited for this one, thank you!

Babysitting

Whenever someone found out about your job, which was babysitting Jesse Lingards' daughter, they were incredibly jealous. "I bet you love your job," they would say, "being able to work for one of the sexiest footballers out there!"

However, the truth was that you barely saw Jesse apart from at the beginning and end of your shifts. The rest of the time you were on your own with Hope.

Nevertheless, they were right, you did love your job. Hope was an amazing kid, both funny, sweet and fairly easy to care for. On top of that it paid way more than any of your previous babysitting gigs.

Today had started of as any other day; you going over to Jesse's house to watch Hope. Jesse greeted you as you arrived, the two of you having a quick chat before he had to leave. However, what differed from other days was the small "good luck" he had thrown your way before getting in his car.

It turned out that the normally cheerful Hope was in quite the mood; grumpily not going along with any of the things you suggested that you could do.

"Do you want to go play outside in the rain?"

"No!" She huffed, crossing her arms sassily.

"Do you want to draw something?"

"No!"

Eventually you suggested that you could bake some brownies for when her dad returned from practice. Luckily she agreed to that, her previous mood completely replaced with a cheery one.

Immediately afterwards the two of you got to work as you put on her absolute favorite soundtrack in the entire world; the one from Frozen.

The music was still playing when Jesse returned from his practice early, making his return unnoticed by the two of you.

Instead of greeting you immediately he stood in the doorway into the kitchen, watching you do the dishes while the brownies were in the oven. You and Hope were also talking about the cake you were going to eat.

"Ice cream too?" Hope asked, giving you pleading eyes.

"Are you kidding? Ice cream to brownies is mandatory!" You giggled, poking her nose playfully.

Hope wanted chocolate flavor, but you tried to tell her that vanilla was a better choice. "Since the brownies are made of chocolate it might be a bit too much chocolate then," you tried to reason, "plus vanilla is much better anyways!"

"Chocolate is best. Silly Y/N," Hope scoffed - making you laugh.

Eventually Jesse decided to make his presence known, walking into the kitchen and greeting you.

"Daddy!" Hope squealed and ran over to hug him.

"Hi princess!" He lifted her up and held her in his arms.

"You're home early!" You commented, giving him a polite smile.

"Yeah, we finished a bit earlier as a reward for our recent win," he shrugged.

You didn't quite know what to do next. Your shift didn't end for another hour or so, and the brownies weren't even finished yet, but now that Jesse was home you didn't want to overstay your welcome.

"I should probably get going then," you awkwardly said - not quite sure if you were telling him about leaving, or asking if you should.

"No," Hope protested as she heard you, "Y/N, stay!"

Jesse agreed with his daughter. "You should stay, at least until the brownies are done. Can't have you making them and not even getting a taste."

"That would be tragic," you stated with a laugh, giving in and deciding to stay a little longer.

If Jesse was honest with himself he was happy that he got to spend a little time with you too. From the start he had been attracted to you, but when he saw how great you were with Hope; and he got to know you better through small talk, the attraction had evolved into something more. He had even contemplated asking you out for a while now, but the fear of rejection held him back. Maybe you would find it weird seeing how he technically was your boss.

Before any of you could say another word your timer went off; indicating that the brownies were done. Hope clapped her hands together in glee, knowing what the sound meant. "Brownies!"

The three of you ate the brownies together in harmony. Jesse had gotten both chocolate and vanilla flavored ice cream out of the freezer, trying to make both his girls happy. Well, although you technically weren't his girl, he definitely wanted you to be.

You laughed and joked around with each other, all whilst listening to the Frozen soundtrack - that Hope refused to let you turn off.

After the brownies had been eaten it was time for Hope's afternoon nap. Jesse got up to take her, but you beat him to it. "I'll do it," you smiled and carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom.

Jesse trailed after you and watched as you laid her down and sung her favorite bedtime song, staying with her until she fell asleep.

You blushed as you felt his gaze on you, but kept your own gaze on Hope. Although you never dared to admit it to anyone you had developed a small crush on the footballer. You never said anything though, afraid he would find it weird since you worked for him.

Eventually you got up and faced him with a smile. "Well, I guess that it my cue to leave for today." He nodded, "I'll walk you to the door."

You grabbed your coat and said your goodbyes; but the minute you stepped outside you heard him speak up again.

"Would you," he cleared his voice before continuing, "would you like to go out for dinner sometime? Just the two of us, no Hope."

You smiled and internally cheered, happy he felt the same way that you did.

"Yeah, sounds like a date."

#jesse lingard #Jesse #Lingard #fanfiction #soccer #fanfic #football #england national football team #jesse lingard imagines #jesse lingard one shots #jesse lingard fanfiction #football imagines #football fluff #foootball one shots #request #manchester united #soccer imagines

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coldmorte · 3 years

Note

bro i'm a sucker for soft Vandermorgan....dutch reading while arthur sketches.....leaning on eachother.....dutch reaching over to rub arthur's back every few pages........running his hand through arthur's hair...soft k*sses and giggling...

Howdy, anon! 💜

My apologies that it took me a week to get back to this one. I gave time to consider it, and I hope the fic I wrote in response makes up for that!! It’s a very cute ask, and I love tenderness between them, too. But despite my affection for lighthearted stuff, I usually struggle with writing it (I’m a very dark and morbid person - oops 😅). Anyway, I’ve been getting quite a few soft VDM asks lately, so I figured I would accept another challenge!

I was hesitant about actually posting this, but I figured, what is there to lose? It does have some angst sprinkled in (I couldn’t help myself), but I hope I did your idea justice!!!

Oh, and to anybody else who sent VDM asks recently, I am still giving them some thought! So, stay tuned 😉

In the meantime, please enjoy…❤️🖤

“Why are you avoiding me, Arthur?”

Hand freezing and pencil ceasing its scratching within the journal on his lap, Arthur furrowed his brow as he peaked over the fire at Dutch. Yet, his eyes remained wide and questioning as he pushed back, “I’m not avoiding you. I just didn’t think you wanted to be bothered while you read.”

“Oh, come on. You know I never minded it in the past, especially not on a cold night like this. We could use all the heat we can spare between us,” Dutch flipped his book shut, patting the ground beside him.

Likewise, Arthur slid the bookmark of his journal in place as he closed it. “Well, I guess… it’s just…”

Dutch chuckled as he noticed Arthur bite his lip to suppress a timid smile. He gestured to Arthur, beckoning him over once again. “I know it’s been a long time since it’s been just the two of us, but you don’t have to be shy.”

“Alright,” Arthur agreed as he pushed himself to his feet, journal still clutched in one hand. He walked over and knelt next to Dutch, but before he could properly get seated, Dutch reached forward and grasped him by his shirt collars. Pressing Arthur’s back to his bedroll, Dutch pinned him there as he straddled his hips.

The journal got cast aside as Arthur grabbed at Dutch’s back. Their lips met, hungrily and impassioned. Dutch pressed his chest firmer against Arthur’s and moaned at the warmth that radiated between them. He pulled back and grinned down at Arthur through heavily-lidded eyes, “See, isn’t it better on this side?”

“I was afraid this might happen,” Arthur laughed as he reached a hand forward and brushed some loose curls away from Dutch’s face.

Emitting a soft hum, Dutch felt himself glow with a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Leaning in close once more, he whispered, “And are you complaining?”

“Never.” Arthur pulled Dutch in for another kiss, before Dutch backed away and sat up.

“I didn’t think so.” Dutch smirked as he reached for his wool blanket and unfolded it. Motioning for Arthur to sit up as well, he handed him a corner. They each wrapped part of it around themselves as they huddled close to the fire.

Arthur scooped his journal up and leaned against Dutch, his back pressed into the older man’s arm and shoulder for support. He reopened the journal on his lap, but his position hid his face and the journal’s contents from Dutch as he returned to sketching.

Attempting to peer over Arthur’s shoulder to no avail, Dutch asked, “What are you working on?”

“What are you reading?” Arthur shot back.

Dutch felt his heart briefly flutter. He couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice as he responded, “Since when do you care about what I read?”

When Arthur gave no response, Dutch slipped one hand around Arthur’s chest, hugging him and pulling him tighter. Gradually, he let his hand glide lower, until it reached the top of Arthur’s pants. Tugging at the shirt tucked in there, Dutch moved it out of the way and slipped his cold fingers inside. Arthur jumped at the sudden intrusion and gave a shriek, “AHH! Dutch! Your hand is freezing!”

Nuzzling his nose against the back of Arthur’s neck, Dutch pressed a soft kiss there. His lips grazed the sensitive flesh as he muttered, “Why are you being so difficult tonight, my boy?”

“Too bad you just ruined any chance of seeing my sketch.” Arthur’s voice had a teasing edge, but it was lighthearted. “Read to me, first. I always liked listening to your voice.”

At that statement, Dutch pulled his hand away from Arthur’s warm skin but still kept it wrapped around him as he moved his head back in surprise. His mouth hung slightly agape at the boldness in Arthur’s tone, though he felt the corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. “So, that’s how you want to play this game… fine.”

Picking his book up in his free hand, Dutch opened it in his lap and scanned the pages. Arthur continued to sketch as Dutch’s other hand rubbed small circles over his chest.

Landing on a passage that caught his eye, Dutch began to read, “‘But whether the resistance against tyrants is non-violent or physically violent, the overarching efforts to overthrow oppression justifies the means.’ What do you think of that, Arthur?”

“It’s very nice, Dutch.”

“‘Nice?’ That’s the word you’d use to describe it?” Dutch protested, though he affectionately wrapped his arm tighter around Arthur as he did so. He flipped through the pages for a few more moments of silence before his eyes landed on another. “Well, how about this one? ‘The whole point of America is freedom. Freedom of thought, freedom of deed, freedom of action.’”

Letting out a sigh, Arthur tilted his head back so he could look at Dutch. Their faces were close - mere inches apart - as Arthur spoke, just barely above a whisper, “Does it always have to be about politics, Dutch? Some greater good? I thought we came out here to escape all that.”

Dutch wanted to argue and explain how important Evelyn Miller’s writings were to their mission as a gang and their survival. But he knew Arthur was right. This was their moment to share, and it wasn’t any use wasting it on philosophical debates. Those could wait.

Tipping his head forward, Dutch pressed a chaste kiss to Arthur’s lips and nodded as he pulled away. “Okay.”

Arthur smiled at him as he turned his head back towards his journal and continued to work. Looking back at his book, Dutch searched for a different passage to read. Though most of the ones he noted were about ideological teachings, he did finally settle on one that made his eyes narrow and lips tighten in consideration.

Taking a breath, Dutch traced the words with his finger as he read aloud, “‘Say what you have to say, not what you ought. Any truth is better than make-believe.’”

Arthur did not say anything in response, though Dutch felt his hand stop drawing, as if Arthur was thinking about it. Dutch could feel the steady beat of Arthur’s heart as he gently massaged his chest.

Eventually, Dutch buried his face in Arthur’s blond hair as he asked, “Hmm, was that better?”

Arthur flipped his journal shut in his lap and rocked lightly into Dutch as he muttered, “You know I was never much good with words.”

“Oh, son… and you know that I wish you wouldn’t downplay yourself like this.” Dutch squeezed Arthur’s breast as he cradled him closer. “You speak from the heart, that’s what matters most... same goes for when you draw in that journal of yours.”

At that, Arthur bent his head down towards the journal in his lap. He tied the leather flap and slid the pencil in place underneath it. Lifting the journal, he set it in front of where the two of them were seated and pushed it forward. It was like a silent invitation, placed just out of reach.

Adjusting his position, Arthur turned around so he could lean his chest against Dutch as he wound both of his arms around the older man’s waist. He buried his head in the crook of Dutch’s neck, and Dutch couldn’t suppress a shiver as Arthur’s warm breath vibrated across the bare flesh at his collar when he spoke, “Thank you for reading to me. ‘M getting tired…”

“Rest up, it’s been a long day.” Dutch set his own book aside so he could readjust himself and wrap his arms around Arthur’s back. He rubbed soothing circles as he rested his chin atop Arthur’s head and watched the flickering glow of the fire.

This was real.

This wasn’t make-believe, or some long-lost memory. Arthur’s steady breathing and the warmth of his flesh confirmed that fact. Dutch let his eyes flicker shut in thought as he was once again reminded of how right Arthur was.

At the end of the day, all those fancy words in his books and his own philosophizing would be meaningless without Arthur by his side.

Dutch furrowed his brow as he blinked his eyes open. Biting his lip, he took a sharp breath and paused. He hesitated to say the words on the tip of his tongue, but he released a long exhale as he tightened his grip on his boy.

He felt safe here.

“You know, Arthur… you’re right. This life of crime, even I sometimes wonder where it all ends, or if it even ends at all. I try to do what’s best, I really do. I know I talk a lot about loyalty and how important it is to keep faith, but these moments when I’m alone with you….” Dutch let his voice trail off. Even amidst his own speaking, he couldn’t fail to notice the light snore coming from Arthur’s lips.

But rather than feeling anger or frustration, Dutch merely smiled. In a way, it was a relief. Arthur couldn’t hear him, and if he could, he would never remember Dutch’s words come morning. Somehow, it was easier this way. Whatever he said aloud, he knew he wouldn’t have to prove or justify it to anybody. He could speak from the heart.

The truth.

“I don’t know how I could ever go on without you. Please, don’t ever let go…”

At that, Dutch squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He focused on the way Arthur maintained a tight grip around his waist, despite his steady snores. The words weren’t meant to be literal, but for the moment, Dutch could allow himself to believe it was possible both physically and figuratively.

Dutch blinked the dampness away from his eyelashes as he looked back towards the fire. The journal was still sitting there, illuminated by the orange glow. Shifting on the ground, Dutch lifted his head away from Arthur and peered down at him. He seemed unbothered by the movements, so Dutch decided to push it further. Unwrapping one arm from around Arthur’s back, Dutch leaned slowly forward, until his fingertips were just able to land on the journal’s leather cover.

Pulling the book towards him, Dutch was able to pick it up in one hand and place it in his lap. He briefly feared the action disturbed Arthur, for he whined and pressed his face harder against Dutch’s shoulder. However, his heavy breathing continued, and Dutch proceeded to slide the journal’s strap out of its place. Holding the pencil in his hand, Dutch turned to the bookmark at the back.

There, he found a sketch of two animals - a buck and a wolf. Despite serving contrasting roles in the wild, they looked perfectly at ease within the sketch. They curled around each other as they laid down to rest, their noses nearly touching. The way they huddled together made it seem believable that they really could find harmony, regardless of their true natures.

On the opposite page, a message was written, “‘Couldn’t resist, could you?’”

Dutch chuckled, Was he really that predictable?

Using the pencil, he scrawled his own note underneath, “‘It’s no use trying to fight who we really are.’”

Taking one last look at the sketch, Dutch ran a finger over it. Just as he could speak in metaphorical language, Arthur could draw in it. But the meanings underneath it all remained the same.

Just because it wasn’t literal, that didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth.

Closing the journal and placing it back where he found it, Dutch kept a firm hold on Arthur as he pulled the both of them down to lay on his bedroll. Adjusting the blanket, Dutch made sure it was draped snugly over them as Arthur soundlessly snuggled his face against Dutch’s chest and hugged him tighter. Once Dutch was comfortable, he likewise wrapped his arms around Arthur, one holding him by the small of his back and the other rumpling his hair.

Feeling tired as well, Dutch shut his eyes. With his final words for the night, Dutch thought of what he just wrote in the journal as they held each other close. Continuing along the same line of thought, he whispered, “We just gotta embrace it.”

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nyxicnymph · 2 years

Text

Guardians of Arcadia: Operation: Secret Santa

Christmas is quickly approaching in Arcadia. While the town may not get such luxuries like snow or ice-skating, the Guardians still want to participate in some form of Christmas tradition all together. Some might not know exactly what is happening, but they're giving it their best shot! (TOA CHRISTMAS SPECIAL WHEN?!)

Rating: ages 13 and up!

Warnings: Canon and character typical levels of teenage violence. Staja. Jlaire. No Zoe, sorry guys. Oh, and swearing.

Part One: Set the Rules, Draw the Names

Jim stood on Blinky's table and shook the chandelier in an attempt to get everyone else's attention. Krel and Aja were poking around all the books, marveling at the dusty, distinctively non-technical tomes. Douxie was talking with Blinky and Aaarghhh about what was apparently a highly volatile piece of magical equipment. Steve was fawning over Aja in a ridiculously sweet way, while Claire and Toby were giving Eli a very, very, very indepth talk about the stuff that went on in Arcadia.

"HEY!" Jim yelled. As the room fell silent, he crossed his arms and frowned. "Are we doing this thing or not?"

"Oh, oh oh!" Aja bounced on her toes. "A pop quiz! Yes?"

"Don't worry, Jim, we're all listening now." Claire looked up at him, brows furrowed. "But, uh, you haven't told us what exactly we're doing."

Jim facepalmed. "I thought I missed something on the text. Damn it. Never mind." He breathed in through his nose to calm down. "Okay, so what we're doing is a Secret Santa. Before anyone asks, a Secret Santa is a gift exchange, but you don't know who gave it to you. Or, well, you're not supposed to know. Sometimes, people give really obvious gifts. Anyway, you give a gift to the person you're assigned to, but you don't sign it. Wrap it, if you can, in non-descript wrapping paper. Or go bananas. Actually," He looked at the Akiridion twins. "Everyone go bananas."

Toby grinned. "And how are we picking names?"

"We already have names, why do we need to pick new ones?" Krel grumbled in moderate confusion.

"No, you're not choosing new names," Claire told him. "You'll be given the name of someone else in the room, and that's who you're getting a gift for."

"Oh, I see! Like a covert mission, but with presents!" Aja giggled in glee.

"Yes. Before we draw names, I'm going to put down three ground rules."

"Three rules, always a good base. Well done, Master Jim." Blinky grinned.

"Blinky, I'm just organizing a gift exchange, it's not that hard. Anyway. Rule number one: Nothing over a hundred bucks. Some of us might be royalty, or related to people in power, but most of us are, shall we say... Broke. So there's a price cap."

Everyone nodded in understanding, Claire looking up at him with a displeased pout. He mouthed a "sorry" at her, then continued. "Rule two: Handmade gifts are more than acceptable. But food does not count. No food gifts."

"What about socks?" Aaarghhh asked.

Jim debated. "Try to refrain from socks, unless your name is not a troll."

Blinky and Aaarghhh grumbled, while Aja nodded exuberantly. "No socks for the Blinky and the Aaarghhh! Understood!"

Jim nodded. "Finally, rule three. Do not tell anyone who you got. Not between friends, siblings, partners, anyone."

The Tarrons pouted, as did Blinky, but everyone else nodded. Douxie stepped up. "And now for the name drawing!"

Douxie enchanted the slips of paper that went in so that someone wouldn't get their own name, and then shuffled them up. Jim held out a bowl, and the papers slid inside.

One by one, the participants came up and drew names. Jim fell in last, and he was okay with that. It made it easier to just grab his piece of paper.

He admitted that he was hoping to get Claire or Toby, maybe even Blinky or Aaarghhh. So the feeling he felt when he stared on the hastily scribbled name on the paper before him was nothing short of confusing and overwhelming.

He didn't know Krel that well at all. What do you get for a mega genius from outer space?

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 (𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔×𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟) 𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡

♡♡ 𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚, 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 @seacottons ♡♡

♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡

Hongjoong tapped his pencil on the notepad impatiently, sighing for the 7th time in the minute that passed. He looked at the clock, signaling that it was almost 10:30.

Maybe I shouldn't have asked her to come. It's already late.

He had a tendency to forget that unlike him, most individuals don't like to stay up at odd hours of the night, especially not to work. But he always worked better and got inspired more during the nights. Something about the dark blue sky, crystal glittering stars and even the bustling sounds of the city awakened his senses, enticing him to start writing lyrics down, or play a few melodies on his piano. Of course, sometimes he had the usual composer's block, struggling to come up with the right music or words. Or he ended up feeling lonely and in need of comfort.

That's where Y/N came in. He'd always call her up and asked her if she wouldn't mind keeping him company, a pout always on his lips, almost like a child expecting to be refused. But she'd always be there for him, and he truly appreciated it. And tonight, he was particularly antsy about seeing her. He was getting anxious as more and more time passed and she was nowhere to be seen. Not even a text saying where she was exactly at the moment.

He was about to pick up his phone again to check up on her, when the rattling of the doorknob let him know someone was outside. He had obviously locked the door, never liking to be disturbed by anyone, so he wasn't surprised to hear the person on the other side knock. He got up and opened the door.

"Hi! I'm here!"

A dripping Y/N scurried inside the studio room, getting as close as she could to the heater that was next to the couch. Hongjoong stared in shock as a tiny wet trail was left on the carpet.

"Baby, did you walk here?" He asked, his voice full of concern.

"Well yeah....." She fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweater. "I didn't know it was going to rain and the weather didn't seem too cold, but then tiny sprinkles turned to a heavy downpour.....

But I'm here now!" She said that last part more enthusiastically, trying to ease his mind a little.

But now he felt even more bad than before. She could easily have gotten sick and it would have been his fault.

"You could have just taken a cab back home love."

Y/N pouted at him.

"I know...but I wanted to see you."

His heart melted at her words. She said the same words he had been thinking all night long. Taking small steps, he threw his hoodie over his head and held it out to her.

"Here. You'll catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes. Take them off and put this on. I'll go see if I can find some towels somewhere."

Y/N nodded and took it. She began unzipping her sweater as Hongjoong went out the door to check the supply closet at the end of the hallway. By pure luck, there was a wide array of freshly cleaned towels on the top rack. He grabbed 3 and placed them underneath his arm before closing the door and making his way back to the studio room.

"I found some towels for-"

He stopped abruptly when he saw Y/N standing there, completely naked. His eyes trailed down her body, some parts still dewy from the rain.

"What? You said to take my clothes of." She reminded him, snapping him out of his trance.

He cleared his throat.

"Well yeah.... I just assumed you'd keep your underwear on."

Y/N chuckled.

"But then your hoodie would get wet, then what would we do Einstein?"

Hongjoong smiled shyly. "I guess you have a point there."

Y/N was about to take a towel from him, but he pulled his arm away before she could reach for it.

"Allow me love."

He began patting her shoulders with the towel, getting some of the wet drops off them. Then he bunched some of her hair in the towel, squeezing any excess water out.

"Let me know if I accidentally pull too hard."

Y/N knew that wouldn't happen. He was always so careful and gentle when it came to these things. Once he was done with that, he discarded that towel and replaced it with another one.

"Jesus, did you get sucked inside a hurricane?" He teased her.

"You're so mean. I wouldn't even be in this condition if you didn't ask me to come." She retaliated.

"I know. I know love."

His hands began traveling down her torso, rubbing softly at her skin. He kept his gaze away when he swiped the towel across her breasts, making Y/N snort.

"Hongjoong, you've seen me naked at least 7 times. Stop acting so innocent."

He blushed at her words and hesitated to continue his task of drying her.

"Here, let me finish."

She took the towel away from him and finished the task he couldn't. She took the hoodie he had given her and threw it over her head, the length of it barely covering up to her mid-thighs, but it would have to do.

"You can turn around now, you drama queen." She rolled her eyes at his acting.

He turned his head and his heart fluttered as it usually did whenever she'd wear any of his clothing. It was kind of a reminder that she was his and his only, a sort of sense of ownership over her, as outrageous as it sounded. But Hongjoong would be the first to admit that he was indeed possessive over Y/N. She was just so beautiful and precious to him, he couldn't help but think that way at times.

He leaned and just pulled her into an embrace, holding her as if he hadn't seen her in years. Y/N reciprocated the action by wrapping her arms around his waist, getting the hint that he wanted to stay in that position for a while. He began caressing the back of her head, her hair still humid, but he didn't care. His other hand ran up and down her back, occasionally drawing random shapes into it.

Before he knew it, he was placing kisses on the side of her face, eventually kissing her forehead and resting his lips there. Y/N smiled fondly at that. Forehead kisses were Hongjoong's way of telling her he adored and cherished her profusely. He mentioned it to her one day when he had done that more often than any other times. Ever since then, she loved it when he did it, now knowing there was a meaning behind his actions.

Pulling back, he cupped her cheeks and squished them gently. Puckering his lips, he moved her face side to side, cooing softly at her.

"Who could not fall in love with such a cute face like this?"

She cringed at his words, but Hongjoong knew better. She did have a love-hate relationship with him babying her.

"You're such a dork." She let out a tiny yawn after she said those words.

Hongjoong pouted. "Oh love. I'm sorry for making you come out so late."

She shook her head.

"It's fine. Did you want something in particular?"

Hongjoong hummed softly, thinking about it. He wanted to hold her, that was for sure. But he also knew he wanted to try something, if she was up for it. Smirking, he brushed some hair off her face.

"Well.... I still have a few verses left to finish. What do you say if we try a little..... cockwarming?"

Y/N's ears perked up at the idea.

"Cockwarming?"

"Yes think about it love. Me nestled inside you, while you take a nap on my lap until I finish the song?" He looked to her with hopeful eyes.

She eyed him suspiciously.

"And what about when you're done?"

Hongjoong wiggled his eyebrows.

"Well, if you're not too tired, we could try something else."

Y/N giggled.

"Are you sure you'll be able to control yourself?"

Hongjoong smiled before picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Only one way to find out love."

He set her down on his desk and began unzipping his pants. Taking his cock out, he stroked himself a few times before sitting down on his chair. Turning his attention back to Y/N, he pulled her off the desk, placing her on top of his thighs. He licked his fingers before slipping them in between her folds, wanting to make sure she was wet enough so it wouldn't hurt her in any way. He slowly slid them in and out of her, occasionally scissoring them, stretching her out. He glimpsed over at Y/N, who was biting her lip as she tried not to let out any noises.

"You worry about me, but I think it's you who won't be able to resist." He chuckled.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "We'll see."

Satisfied with his job, Hongjoong lifted her up and maintained eye contact as he slowly sank her down onto his length. They both moaned at the warm feeling, it had been so long since they were like this. Y/N let her legs dangle and she rested her face on his shoulder. Hongjoong wrapped his arms around her.

"Take a rest. I'll be done soon enough"

Y/N mumbled something incoherently, already dozing off thanks to Hongjoong's warmth and his scent that she loved inhaling. Muttering a small 'cute', he went back to work.

The words were now flowing even smoother than before. He always did say he worked a lot better if Y/N was around. The others would always think he was just being delusional, but he disagreed. Her presence just makes him more calm, serene and helps him focus. He'd often joke about her being his muse, but even she would often roll her eyes at his statement.

He didn't know how much time had passed, all he could hear was the sound of his pencil scribbling on the paper and Y/N's faint breathing on his neck. Once in a while, he'd give her thigh a gentle squeeze or kiss her arm that was wrapped around his other shoulder, where her head wasn't. He had completely forgotten he was even inside her.

He was only reminded of it when he looked at the time that was marking that it was almost midnight. He debated whether to wake her up and take her home, or rearrange the couch so it could become a bed. Eden was the one who suggested keeping a sofa that could turn into a bed, and even kept a couple pillows and blankets in the studio since Hongjoong practically lived there at times.

But then again, she looked so comfortable and peaceful, and it wouldn't be the first time he slept in the chair. Turning off the light, he began closing his eyes, wanting to drift off to sleep as well.

But then Y/N shifted in her sleep, causing Hongjoong to jolt up and hold her hips, thinking she was going to fall. She groaned softly and shifted even more, causing his cock to twitch.

Oh my God.

He thought he was doing so well, and he could cool himself down, but the feeling was too good. Without thinking about it, he began to gently roll his hips up against hers, ever so slightly so as to not wake her up. At least that was the plan.

He smiled mischievously though when he heard her moan against his ear. He could feel her growing wetter, making it easier for him to slip in and out of her.

"Fuck." He whispered to himself.

He was getting even more turned on by the fact he was practically fucking his girlfriend while she was asleep. He shouldn't get aroused by that fact, but he was. And to know that even in her sleep she was moaning boosted his ego.

Y/N fluttered her eyes open, whimpering slightly at being woken up with an intense need. She lifted her face and was met with Hongjoong's face, his eyes full of lust and desire as he continued rolling his hips against hers.

"I'm sorry baby. It was just too tempting."

He apologized, but she knew he wasn't the least bit sorry. And she wasn't mad either way. It was definitely one of the best ways to wake up. She placed her hands on his shoulders, to steady herself as she began grinding down on him, not wanting him to have his fun only. Hongjoong hissed at the change of pace, loving the way she looked: in his hoodie, on top of him and desperate to get some release.

Hongjoong's hands went to her waist, pressing her closer to him as he kissed her passionately, his tongue slipping inside hers. His hands wandered inside the hoodie, cupping her breasts and playing with her nipples, causing her to shudder and tighten around his cock.

Hongjoong pulled back, gasping for air.

"Fuck baby. If- if you keep doing that, I w-won't be able to last much longer." He told her, trying to hold back as much as he could.

Y/N chuckled and challenged him.

"Then make me cum."

Oh. Those 4 words always set Hongjoong off. One of his hands went down between her legs, his thumb playing around with her clit. His lips attached themselves to her neck as he sucked and nibbled on all her sensitive places, having memorized all of them. All of that, plus the way his strokes got even deeper and faster had Y/N whimpering and panting above him. Hongjoong pulled back only to tease her:

"What? You asked me to make you cum and that's what you're going to get love."

His free hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing it enough to make her dizzy, but not harshly. He growled in her ear:

"Now do it baby. Cum all over my cock. I want to feel you come undone before I fill up your pretty little pussy with my cum."

She threw her head back as she clenched around him, his words being the final straw for her to break and release all over him with a soft cry of his name. She hid her face on his neck, gripping him tightly as he helped her ride out her orgasm. Her walls clenching and squeezing him tightly had him coming undone seconds after her. She felt his hot cum coat her walls, his voice muttering curses as his movements stilled, trying to catch his breath.

After a minute, Hongjoong looked back at her.

"Baby? You good?"

She nodded. "Tired."

"I know love. Hold on."

Getting up, still inside her, he walked over to the couch and set her down. He began to miss her warmth as soon as he pulled out of her. Grabbing one of the previously acquired towels, he wiped her inner thighs where some of his cum had dripped out.

Y/N was pretty much half asleep by now. So Hongjoong tried to move her as little as possible as he adjusted the couch to turn it into a bed. Grabbing one of the blankets from under his desk, he covered Y/N with it and layed down next to her, pulling her against his chest.

He stared at her sleeping figure for a while, admiring her features and smiling to himself. His finger traced her lips slowly before he pecked them with tenderness.

"I love you Y/N."

He wasn't expecting her to answer, but she surprised him when she unconsciously nestled herself closer to him and mumbled 'I love you' back to him, causing him to giggle at her cuteness.

She truly was such a precious being.

♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong smut #ateez hongjoong scenarios #ateez hongjoong fluff #ateez hongjoong fanfic

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harmonizingsunsets · 3 years

Text

It might be foolish, but you got me all soft

Read on Archive here.

Kate's nose crinkles as she watches Penelope and Colin. Their feet dance with one another underneath the table. He leans over, whispering something in her ear that makes her giggle. Their smiles are brighter than the fluorescent lights of the coffee shop. Watching them is almost blinding.

"You guys are so cute," Kate observes with puckered lips. "I hate that."

Penelope turns to Kate with a bemused expression. "No, you don't. You love us."

"Love isn't the word coming to mind. Nauseated is more like it."

"Kate, everyone finds us adorable," Colin insists, wrapping an arm around Penelope. "It's not a matter of opinion. It's just a fact."

"I'm happy for you two. Honestly, I am. But you're acting so lovey-dovey and sweet that it makes my teeth ache," Kate jokes, picking up her coffee for a sip.

"If we make your teeth ache, then you and Anthony cause cavities," Colin mutters.

Kate chokes a little on her mocha, causing a few patrons to give her odd looks.

"Excuse me?"

"Colin, we talked about this," Penelope says through gritted teeth, shooting him a disapproving look.

"No, you talked about how we weren't supposed to say anything because they're both so jumpy about it, but I disagreed," Colin protests. "Someone needs to open their eyes."

"Hello, I'm still right in front of you," Kate says, waving her hands at them. "Open my eyes to what?"

Colin and Penelope argue with their eyes for a few moments before Penelope cracks, nodding. Colin turns to Kate with a sly grin.

"That you're in love with my brother."

It was a good thing she wasn't drinking that time, or she'd have to spit her coffee all over them. Although, perhaps a spritz of hot coffee would wipe the amusement off of Colin's face.

Kate feels her cheeks heat. She opens her mouth, but only incomprehensible protesting sounds come out.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Colin says, his smile turning softer. "He loves you too."

"That is not true," Kate insists, standing up straighter in her chair. "I don't love him, and he certainly doesn't love me. Right, Penelope?"

When Kate turns to Penelope, the friend she usually can rely on for back-up is instead chewing her lower lip.

"Well...."

"Pen!"

"I'm sorry, but Kate, Colin's right," Penelope says, the words rushing out guiltily. "I write romance books for a living. I know the enemies to lovers trope very well, and you two embody it."

"That's ridiculous!" Kate exclaims, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest. "We drive each other crazy. I mean, we've become better friends over the past few months—but it's not like that."

Penelope tilts her head. "Would it be so bad if it was?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

A hundred reasons that Kate could never utter go through her mind. She wants to say, "Anthony dates pop singers and models, and I can't live up to that." Or she could confess, "When he looks at me a beat too long, I feel like I could combust from the weight of it." Most of all, Kate wants to say, "If I let myself love him, I know that I'll never be able to stop."

But she can't tell them any of that. Kate had been just fine about the prospect of being alone. She's satisfied with her career, family, and friends. But if she admits that she loves him, then she'll never be content with any life that doesn't include him in it.

No matter what Colin and Penelope think, Anthony doesn't love her. He can't. Letting herself hope that he does is too dangerous. It scares her more than any thunderstorm she's ever endured.

"I have to go," Kate murmurs, standing up numbly from the table.

"Kate, wait," Colin says, grabbing onto her arm. He looks apologetic, and it's impossible to be upset when looking into his puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's fine," Kate insists with a thin smile, tugging her arm away from his grasp. "I got to go. Have a nice evening."

As she walks out of the coffee shop, she hears a cheesy pop tune about love play on their radio.

The lyrics inspire Anthony's face to surface in her mind.

Kate groans, knowing she's in deep trouble.

That night, she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed but couldn't stop hearing Anthony's teasing voice in her head.

In a huff, Kate gets out of bed and quickly puts on her clothes. She debates whether to reapply makeup but decides against it. No one else will see her where she was going.

Luckily, she's friends with the security guard, who let her inside the building that turned off the lights twenty minutes prior. She thanks him and hastily goes to her office, turning on the light and booting up the computer at her desk.

If she wasn't going to sleep, she might as well get some work done.

For a while, all that she hears is the sound of her keys as she typed and the soft hum of music she'd put on to work.

She thought she'd be safe listening to music without lyrics. But Anthony creeps into every note, every chord, and every song.

Just as Kate lowers her head to beat it against the table in frustration, a knock on her door causes her body to jolt upright.

She stands from her chair slowly, walking to the door with caution. No one else would be here this late, so she fears what was on the other side of the door. But if someone was there to hurt her, why would they bother knocking on an unlocked door?

When Kate turns the knob, she sees the face of the man who's been haunting her thoughts for the past few hours (longer than that, if she was honest with herself).

"Hey, what are you doing here so late?" Anthony asks.

"Um, working."

Anthony scans her with curiosity. "On a Sunday?"

"So are you," she points out, crossing her arms.

He holds up a black leather journal. "Actually, I just came by the office for my phone book."

"You have a phone book? Anthony, there's a reason for that contact list on your phone."

"I like writing it down," he defends, looking affronted.

"But you can't add emojis, which adds personality to someone's contact." Kate pulls out her phone and holds out the contacts for him to see. "Edwina has two pink hearts, Penelope has a book, Benedict has an easel, and you have a fire emoji."

"Why do I have a fire emoji?"

"Because you make me want to set things on fire, of course."

Anthony smirks. "Well, next time we play that 'who's most likely to' game in the office, I'll be sure to put you down for becoming an arsonist."

Kate smiles at him, and they fall into one of those moments that's becoming more frequent between them—ones where his body seems to close, and his eyes gleam with something she can't name but feels a kindred sensation within her heart.

Kate takes a step back from him. "Why did you need your phone book so late, anyway?"

Anthony itches behind his ear. Kate frowns, as it's a nervous tick she's never seen from him before. Anthony, like fire, was all-consuming. His feelings were as hot as flames and easy to detect. But now, he looks more guarded, his eyebrows scrunched and his posture squirmish.

"Anthony?" she asks again.

Anthony takes a deep breath. "Well, I actually needed it to call you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. My phone hasn't been working since I went out on the boat with Simon. The bloody idiot knocked it onto the water," he grumbles. "I got a new phone and need to add my contacts back on, which is why I'm lucky I have this phone book which you mocked me for having."

Kate rolls her eyes. "What did you need to call me about?"

"Well, I know we had a rocky start to our relationship—."

"Because you hit on my sister?" she asks, arching her brow.

"I did not hit on her. I merely danced with her at the Christmas party," Anthony corrects with an exasperated sigh. "How many times are we going to argue about this?"

"Until you admit I'm right."

"It'll take a long time for that to happen."

"I've got plenty of time to spend with you."

As soon as those words are out, that heat radiating from Anthony's fire feels warmer. It's as if more time with her is exactly what he wants.

But Kate doesn't let those thoughts get far. She squashes them before they can take root in her mind.

"Continue," Kate tells him.

"Yes, well, as I was saying, we didn't start on the right foot. But, over these past few months, I feel like we've become friends." He looks at her with a hesitant kind of hope. "We have, haven't we?"

Kate smiles. "Yes, we have."

"So, I thought as my friend. You'd like to come with me to this."

Anthony draws two tickets from his pocket and holds one out to her. Kate takes it from in, and her eyes widen as she reads what's on the paper.

"The Vitamin String Quartet?"

"I know you listen to them to relax. I saw that they were touring and coming to London, so I thought that—." His words suddenly halt, tilting his head at her curiously. "What?"

Kate blinks in confusion. "What do you mean 'what?'"

Anthony points at her face. "You were looking at me all funny."

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were! You were looking at me like this."

Anthony imitates a soft-looking expression, gazing at her with an affectionate smile. Kate, in horror, realizes she had been looking at him like that.

"Shut up," Kate scoffs, nudging his arm and hoping it distracts from the blush on her face. "Like I'd ever look at you like that."

"If you're going to be mean, I won't give you the ticket."

He reaches over, but she pulls her hand back.

"Fine, I'm sorry," Kate says, looking down at the ticket in awe. "This is really nice of you."

"So, you'll go with me?"

"Of course I will," she nods, beaming in excitement.

Anthony releases a breath. "Good."

He begins to back out of her office, but she steps forward from her desk, grabbing his arm.

"Anthony?"

He turns. "Yes?"

Before she can second guess herself, she leans up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. When she pulls back, it takes a few seconds for his eyes to open, as if he thinks she's a figment of his imagination that will disappear.

"Thank you," Kate whispers.

Anthony nods, giving her a kind smile before leaving her office.

The music on her computer is still playing. Kate hears the gentle notes of a piano, cautious and optimistic-sounding.

The night had been amazing.

The quartet performed beautifully. They played orchestrational versions of pop songs, which makes Kate feel less guilty about listening to them.

She worried when Anthony said he'd never heard any of their music himself, that he wouldn't enjoy it. But when the concert started, she kept stealing glances out of the corner of her eyes. She saw him watching the players with a content expression.

However, the music didn't help her much with her newfound Anthony problem. When she closed her eyes, the violins sang his name. When his hand grazed hers on the armrest of the chair, the music swelled in tandem with her heart.

He was a song she couldn't get out of her head.

And the worst part was, it was a tune she didn't think she'd ever tire of hearing.

They bantered a bit about the weather while waiting for their Uber. Kate claimed the night was perfectly brisk, not enough to warrant a coat. Anthony, however, disagreed. He poked at the goosebumps on her arm as proof and insisted she take his jacket. She eventually relented, letting him drape his jacket over her shoulders.

When he looked away to wave at the car they'd been waiting for, Kate turned her nose to the jacket. She smelt the scent of amber, sandalwood, and something that was discernibly Anthony.

When they get into the back seat of the car, Anthony turns to her. "Can you believe that couple who sat in front of us?"

"I know! They were all over each other the whole night."

"Music is the food of love, but couldn't they have got the meal before the concert?"

"You'd think," Kate huffs, curling her fists further into his sleeves for warmth. She looks back at him, offering a smile. "I had a really nice time."

"I'm glad," Anthony nods. He swallows nervously, forcing himself to meet her eyes. When he does, Kate sees a raw vulnerability glistening in them. "I just wanted to make you happy."

She bumps her shoulder against his. "You do that by just being you."

Kate's words skim a cello string, creating a deep note that lingers in the air. Something flickers in Anthony's expression, his gaze steadying on her. Suddenly, it's harder for Kate to breathe.

"Look at us, acting like that couple," Kate jokes, trying to ease the tension. "The music must be getting to us too."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Anthony hums, moving a fraction closer to her. "Because right now, I feel this urge to put my arm around you."

Anthony gives in to the feeling, putting an arm around her back. Kate's breath hitches as his thumb rubs circles on her arm. Even through the material of Anthony's jacket, his fingertips send electric shocks to her skin.

"And I want to lean my head right here," she finds herself saying, resting her head on top of his shoulder.

"I want to tuck this strand of hair behind your ear.”

Kate feels his fingers skim against his cheek, gently moving a curl that had fallen into her face behind her ear. Her breath quickens, slowly turning her eyes up at him, and the look he's giving her is overwhelming.

"This is all so ridiculously stereotypical. You make me feel so—so..." Kate's words drift, unable to finish her sentence. Her tongue goes out to wet her lips that suddenly feel dry. "I hate it."

Anthony's index finger goes to her chin, tilting it up and off of his shoulder. "Do you hate this?"

He leans forward, kissing her so sweet and tenderly that she knows if she were standing, her foot would pop up like all of those delusionally romantic heroines in movies do when they kiss.

She gets lost in him. Her hands go up to cup his cheek as she deepens the kiss. Anthony's arm moves from her shoulders to her waist, pulling her flush against him. He swallows her gasp, and Kate hears a cacophony of melodies in her mind.

Kate doesn't know how long they stay wrapped in another's arms. It's only when the driver clears his throat that she realizes the car had come to a stop.

They jump apart, and Anthony gives the driver an uncomfortable nod. "Sorry, sir."

"It's alright," he says gruffly and mutters something about "just wait till you have kids, it won't be like this" as they get out of the car.

They stand awkwardly on the street for a few seconds. Kate looks around them. The vivid leaves of the trees stand out amongst the darkness of the night.

Kate remembers when she first met Anthony. It'd been fall, and the trees were bare with leaves littering the ground. It had felt fitting. Back then, her publishing company announced that they were joining one of their competitors. She had to work with Anthony, as they were both the top production editors of the separate companies. Like the leaves, it felt like everything was falling apart. Every smirk or retort of Anthony's felt like the leaves blowing chaotically in the wind.

But now, the trees were alive again, flooding with color. Kate's at the dawn of a new season with Anthony. It's something as inevitable as the change of weather but as everlasting as the stars above them.

No—stars eventually burn out. Kate thinks that whatever is between her and Anthony will continue to burn when all other flames dim.

"So, that happened," Kate says, breaking the silence.

Anthony takes a cautious step towards her. "Yeah, it did."

"I didn't hate it," she shrugs with a teasing tilt of her lips.

"Wow, what great appraisal. Can I list you as a reference for giving me such a raving review?"

"Excuse me, who else are you planning to apply with?"

"No one, I'm quite satisfied with my employment with you," he assures smugly, his hand going up to her cheek. "But, I'd like to have a slight promotion in my position."

Kate leans into his touch. "Oh really, what position do you want to fill?"

"Well, I think I've done everything that I can in the enemy job. I've enjoyed the friend's position. But, if the boyfriend position is available, I'd like to submit my candidacy."

Kate loops her arms around his neck. "Well, how about we check over your application one more time?"

"Where do you want me to start?" Anthony asks, pressing his lips to her temple. "My education?" he murmurs as he kisses her forehead. "My goals?" Kate sighs as his lips move to the corner of her mouth, and his hand curls around her waist. "My experience?" He kisses her again, and Kate feels his smirk against her lips. "Or, my skills?"

Kate pulls back with a smirk of her own. "How about what drew you to this position?"

His eyes gleam roguishly, looking at the lack of space between them. "This particular position?"

Kate tries her best to give him a stern look. "Anthony."

"You," he answers simply, resting his forehead against hers. "Everything about you."

Kate's unable to stop herself, chuckling softly. "Wow, that's incredibly sappy."

"But it's true."

She takes a deep breath, feeling content and peaceful in his arms. "Maybe being sappy isn't such a bad thing."

"No," Anthony agrees, the corner of his lips tilting up as he studies her intently. "I'm starting to think that it's not."

This time when Kate kisses him, she does it without a single reservation about cliches or stereotypes, or how she would roll her eyes if she saw the two of them on the street.

Kate's foot pops, and the song that's been stuck in her head gets set on an infinite loop.

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ye4gerismarchives · 3 years

Text

the bachelorette: the wedding

an: h-hey guys😅 a whole month w/o rhe bachelorette. y’all prolly forgot about it. fortunately, i haven’t😭 sorry yall, i’ve been up all night for the past month reading about nasty white men instead of writing for the bachelorette. this chapter has 4768 words, so i guess that’s a plus.

tags: black, fem reader. i don’t have any triggers off my head, if something does trigger you, do let me know

taglist: @taybird

5:00 am

You had plans to send Levi to his grave. How dare he wake you up at like four in the morning only to start your makeup and hair an hour later? The makeup and hair team were completely respectful towards you and respected your space, considering today was going to be full of emotions.

As your face was getting beat, there was a knock at the door. The makeup artist working on your face stopped so that you could address the person at the door. "If your name is Levi, don't bother coming in," you say. The door opens and your heart jumps because

Her Royal Highness Princess Historia and her girlfriend, Ymir, were in YOUR room.

"Oh sh*t, Your Royal Highness," you let out. Members of your team start to curtsy and bow to Historia. Ymir stands awkwardly behind her. She must have been getting used to the royal bs around her.

You stand to curtsy as well but Historia raises a hand to stop you. "Today is all about you. Ymir and I are going to be your bridesmaids today! Levi called us and we decided we would support you today!" she says cheerfully.

So, Levi probably wasn't going to die today. Now, you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him but you still side eyes him. He was a powerful guy- you were still under the impression that he said something to Mikasa during the show and caused her unusual behavior.

"O-Oh?"

"Yeah! Ymir and I will get changed but we'll see you in your dress."

And with that, the princess and her girl left your room. It was like a dream.

5:30 am

Weeks before the wedding came, you went dress shopping. However, it didn't go how you wanted it to go. Ideally, you would be dress shopping with Sasha, Mikasa, and Connie. There was no way in hell you would call Sasha and ask her to go with you. You called Connie, who refused to pick up. You thought about calling Mikasa but you felt uneasy about it. So, Levi and his husband, Erwin, went with you.

Erwin was a complete angel. He asked you respectful questions about your life and even made you laugh. Spending time with Erwin made you realized how...dark Levi was and even made you question why they were even together. But your thoughts couldn't stop you from seeing how Levi melted under Erwin's touch. They loved each other. You hoped that You and Jean would be like that.

With their help, you managed to pick the perfect dress.

Slipping it on for the second time was just as magical as it was the first. Your team awed and cooed over how beautiful you looked. Historia and Ymir entered in matching pink outfits and immediately started fawning over how good you looked.

You felt your face redden up and you couldn't help but smile. But all of that went away when a familiar face entered.

"You...you look good, y/n."

"Mikasa...what are you doing here?"

Mikasa was standing in front of you in the same pink color that Ymir and Historia were in but her outfit was a sleeveless wide-legged jumpsuit. Her bangs were brushed away from her face and the rest of her hair sat behind her ears- well, mostly.

"Levi called me. He apologized for everything and told me to come over to apologize to you too. And then he forced me to be your maid of honor," Mikasa explained.

Levi forcing her to come over sounded like him but apologizing? He must have realized he went too far, especially since Mikasa was his niece. Levi was too caught up in creating and entertaining drama that he probably forgot Mikasa's relation to him.

So, you decided to let everything go.

You walk towards Mikasa with arms open and she's shocked but she doesn't hesitate to envelop you in her arms are well.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I know was so out of line. I'll never let any man get in the way of our friendship again," Mikasa said as she squeezed you harder.

"Same here. If things don't work out with Jean, I'll marry you instead," you joke. You can feel Mikasa's laughter vibrate against your neck. She pulls away first and you proceed to ask another question. "Have you been in touch with Sasha?"

Mikasa purses her lips and shakes her head. "She's been radio silent. I can't tell if she got more backlash than me. She's off social media and just unwilling to speak with anyone. The hate probably got to her and she's just hiding for now."

You weren't too surprised. Mikasa was doing a job- a terrible one- but Sasha went out of her way to sleep with one of your guys...but she was drunk. You could imagine Sasha being the most discussed and debated online. Without speaking to her, you wouldn't know what was really going on in her mind.

"Oh! You never said hi to Princess Historia or Ymir. They're my bridesmaids for the day," you point out. The color leaves Mikasa's face when she realizes who's in the room with her. "Sh*t. Your Royal Highness," Mikasa curtsies. Historia lets out one of her signature giggles and begins to introduce herself and Ymir to Mikasa. As that goes on, your team starts helping you with your dress again.

You were slightly glad Mikasa was by your side today. The situation between the both of you was awkward but you were willing to give her another chance.

7:30 am

In the last two hours, you've done photoshoots and chat with everyone around you. Now it was time for Jean to be yours and for you to be his. You did question the early wedding time that Levi gave you but this would probably be the last time you saw that man so let's just let him do what he wants.

You were visibly nervous. You were gripping onto Mikasa's hand like it would be your last time doing so. "Hey, just remember, he's not your real husband. At least for now. This is all show," Mikasa reminds you. She was right. Jean may have been romantic with you but also he got his hour of fame, he could possibly leave you. Maybe he would get married to Connie.

You started to take a few deep breaths as you pulled up in front of the venue. Levi had rented a beach (not the one you and Connie were on) for your wedding.

From what you could see in the car, there were multiple seats and people were filling them up. You hoped that Connie's family had no ill-feeling toward you and decided to show up. It would be a shame since you were caught on television talking about how you would love for them to be there.

Your car came to a slow end. "y/n, do not worry. Remember, THIS is all fake. Only you decide if it's real," Mikasa reminds you. Levi opens your door and offers his hand to you. "It's go time." Mikasa helped you with your veil making sure that it wouldn't hit the ground.

"y/n, I know I may have been a menace but I'm happy for you. You might have had the most popular season yet," he says. Him bringing up ratings was no shock to you. You don't reply and Levi have his moment.

You like to think that Jean would like to spend the rest of his life with you. You knew that wasn't the case with many Bachelorettes and Bachelors but you look at Levi and Erwin...ah well, that wasn't a good example, considering that Erwin wasn't a contestant. He was the previous host. 'CALM DOWN,' you tell yourself, 'YOU AND JEAN WILL BE GOOD. AND IF HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU, ITS WHATEVER BECAUSE I'M THE BEST THING EVER.'

Minutes later, you're at the end of the aisle. Jean has his back turned and he's pacing back and forth slightly. Next to him is Connie. You know this because you recognize his big egg head. You're happy he put everything aside to support the both of you.

Mikasa takes her place in front of you and the music starts. Levi offers you his arm and you take it.

This was really happening.

You looked into the audience with a smile on your face but everything was moving so fast, you couldn't recognize their faces.

Before you knew it, you were by Jean. He still couldn't look at you- not until Levi gave you away. The marriage officiant clears his throat and begins to talk.

"We are gathered here today to witness the union of Jean and y/n. Welcome friends and family! We're glad to have you with us.

Today is the beginning of a remarkable journey for this couple. Drawing on their mutual admiration, respect, and trust, they are ready to embark on the next chapter in their lives. We celebrate the love and light evident in their relationship and wish them well on this joyous occasion.

Who gives this woman away?"

"I do," Levi answers. He takes Jean's hand and places it on top of yours. Jean then moves his under yours so that he could hold it. He looks down at Levi and mouths 'Thank you'. The shorter male nods and takes a seat.

The officiant gives you and Jean a moment to face each other. Jean had the biggest smile on his face when his eyes landed on you. "You look gorgeous," he whispers. "You're not so bad yourself," you reply.

The officiant continues. "If anyone has cause to object to the forming of this union, speak now or forever hold your peace." You look over Jean's shoulder to see Connie. You couldn't see his whole face, thanks to Jean's height, but you could see his eyes. They were narrowed and looking straight at you.

You wanted to feel bad, but you couldn't. YOU decided that Connie would not be your spouse, and that was final.

No one responded to the officiant's request, so he continued.

"Marriage is an integral part of the human tradition. Let us remember, as we stand here before the Universe, that the vows taken today hold great importance, just as they did to our ancestors. As individuals, we choose to enter the union of marriage to share all aspects of ourselves with our soulmate. Today, this is true for Jean and y/n."

Soulmate. You hoped that was true for you and Jean. You did meet him on a tv show.

"There are few greater joys in life than finding someone with whom we truly "click." In that spirit, I will now share a short reading on soulmates from author Richard Bach:

"A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we're pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we're safe in our own paradise. Our soulmate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction. When we're two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we've found the right person. Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life."

Under the eyes of Ymir, together we take a moment to acknowledge the seriousness of the commitment being entered into today. With great joy, we also recognize the special bond shared by Jean and y/n.."

This...this was a special bond indeed. Not only that, it was completely random. The next part of the wedding was your vows. The next part of solidifying your relationship.

"I will now invite the couple to share their vows. Jean and y/n, the promises you make today are sacred; they are the groundwork from which your marriage will grow and blossom over time.

Jean, would you like to begin first?"

Jean nods and squeezes your hands. "y/n, hopefully by the end of this ceremony, you will be my wife. I know there's a lot that you're worried about but I'll do everything to make you happy. I'll always protect you and keep you satisfied."

"y/n, your turn."

"Jean. I'm not too sure what to say...you've out-speeched me," you joke. Jean chuckled. "But...I too promise to love and protect you. I'll also make sure we're on the same page because that's very important for our relationship. I'm willing to fight for us."

You look at the officiant, letting him know that you were done.

"Let us proceed. Jean, before your family and friends, do you take y/n as your beloved Wife, to have and to hold, through laughter and in sadness, through challenges and successes, so long as you both shall live?"

Jean is silent for a moment. He's rubbing the back of your right hand and staring straight into your eyes- almost as if he was reevaluating everything. This made you nervous. Jean was a smart guy. You know you couldn't hold him down and force him to do anything he didn't want.

"I...I do," he finally answers. The weight on your chest dissolves.

"y/n, before your family and friends, do you take Jean as your beloved Husband, to have and to hold, through laughter and in sadness, through challenges and successes, so long as you both shall live?"

"Yes, I do," you answer quickly. You hear small laughs coming from the audience.

The officiant gives you a small smile before continuing. "Wedding rings are a traditional symbol of the strength of the bond between two soulmates." Connie comes from behind Jean with the wedding bands and gave you both one.

"This bond is never broken, and continues in a perpetual circle, glowing with the warmth and eternal light of two souls in a perfect union. By wearing these rings, you will be always reminded of the connection you share and the vows you have made today. Jean, please, repeat after me;

I, Jean..."

"I, Jean..."

"present you, y/n, with this ring..."

"as a symbol of our everlasting love."

"Let it never lose its luster..."

"just as my love for you will never fade."

Jean, still gently holding your hand, slips the ring on (whatever finger your culture uses for weddings!). He can't help but admire it for a moment. He looks back up at you with the biggest grin. All you had to do was place the ring on his finger and your marriage would be "official".

"y/n, repeat after me. I, y/n..."

"I, y/n..."

"present you, Jean, with this ring..."

"as a symbol of our everlasting love..."

"let it never lose its luster..."

"just as my love for you will never fade."

You slip the ring onto Jean's left finger.

"By the power vested in me by the Ymir Life Church and Paradis, under the eyes of the Ymir, I happily pronounce you Husband and Wife! Jean, kiss your bride."

At that moment, everyone disappeared. It was just you and Jean. Jean places a hand on your waist and pulls you in. You find your hands riding up his chest and resting on his shoulder as you get closer. You and Jean connect and all of sudden, you're not in that bubble anymore.

"Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time, I give you Mr. Kirstein and Mrs. l/n!!."

You and Jean left together as "spouses". The first thing you did was official wedding photoshoots that were to be spread all over Paradis and all over the world- thanks to social media. Y'all kinda look like Meghan and Harry tbh.

Anyway.

You both got an opportunity to change in your reception outfits. After that, it was another car ride to the reception venue. Jean held your hand and couldn't stop talking about how beautiful you looked. You were so flustered, you couldn't get a response out. When you reached the venue, the driver helped out first and Jean slipped out of the car after you. He took your hand and entered the reception venue with you.

When you entered the dining hall, you were welcomed by cheers and claps. It was extremely overwhelming- not in a bad sense, however. You looked around the room and caught some familiar faces. You saw Bertholdt and Reiner sitting at a table with another unfamiliar girl. Across the room, Mikasa is seated with Connie, Historia, and Ymir. Everyone else is family that Levi most likely reached out to.

You and Jean take a seat and the cheering calms down. You lean on Jean's shoulder and sigh. The day wasn't over yet, but you were already so tired. Jean places his head on top of yours. "I can't wait to just be with you. I don't know what you had planned tonight but to be honest, I just want to sleep. I haven't realized how tired I was until now," Jean says quietly. "I have to agree. Let's just take a shower, cuddle and just pass out."

Jean brings his head up and smirks at you. "A shower? Together?" You only roll your eyes jokingly. "Oh, look, I think Levi is gonna call us up to have our first dance." "Don't worry, I'll get my answer sooner or later, y/n. You can't run from me." Jean pokes your arm teasingly, which causes you to squirm a little bit. Levi calls you up and Jeans takes your hand to lead you to the dance floor.

(Song of your choice) starts playing and you're not even sure where to start. Jean has a hand on your waist and is holding your free hand. You have a hand on his shoulders. "I'm not even sure where to start, we never practiced," you whisper. Jean smiles softly. "Don't worry about it. We're in this together aren't we?" He begins to move, taking full control. You stumble a bit but your reception dress hides your clumsiness. After a bit, you weren't stumbling anymore. You rest your head on Jean's shoulder and he pulls you even closer. Your movements get even slower. The music slowly disappeared and so did everyone else. It was just you and Jean.

When the music actually came to an end, you pulled away slowly. "You did great," Jean says softly. "So did you." You both go back to your seats. Waiters started to come out and take everyone's orders for dinners and started to pour drinks- meaning a toast would be coming up.

Mikasa comes up to the dance floor and awkwardly clanks her glass, trying to get everyone's attention. Everyone turned their heads and it wasn't because of the awkward clanking of the glass. There were some 'What the hell is she doing here?'s and 'Eren's b*tch?'s. You could visibly see Mikasa's nervousness so you attempted to lock eyes with her. It took her a while but she could finally look you in the eye. Mikasa clears her throat. "Um, hi. You're probably wondering why I'm here but today is not about me. It's about y/n and Jean. I was once y/n's closets friends until I was pressured to do something that I wouldn't normally do." Mikasa gives Levi a side-eye. The shrimp man crosses his arms and rolls his eyes.

"y/n is absolutely amazing...I can't really put it into words but there's something about her that just make people want to be around her. I can see why Jean fought so hard to be with her."

Jean squeezes your hand when she makes that comment.

"I often think to myself about how y/n could have easily met Jean at a café or a movie theatre or something rather than on TV show. But at the same time, this was good for her...and all of us. Here we discovered the lengths of our friendship and who we really were as people. I believe these ups and downs helped y/n find Jean- her true love. Honestly, I wish you both a happy future. Make it worth it."

Mikasa raises her glass and everyone clinks their glass with their neighbors. Connie begins to walk up to the dance floor as soon as Mikasa leaves.

"I'm going to be really honest with you. This is was unexpected. I honestly thought that today was going to be about me." Connie raises his eyebrows at Jean, who furrows them.

"But I guess it's a good thing I didn't marry y/n. I wouldn't have been enough to handle. So, congrats to you, Jean. You're tolerable."

Connie gets off the dance floor without giving you or Jean a look. You look at Jean and he's hurt. "H-hey...maybe he's drunk or something. In his feelings, you know? Don't let him make you feel bad," you say. Jean gives you a small smile before sipping down his drink.

Moments later, it was time for parent dances. Jean got up to dance with his mom. It was a little bit uncoordinated than yours but they looked like they were having a lot of fun.

Next was the bouquet and garter toss. You started with the garter first. You sat in a chair with your legs cross. You knew this was going to happen but it wasn't rehearsed. Jean could see your uneasiness, so he started doing a silly sensual dance. It made you laugh and your laughter got louder once he started shimming down to the floor. He got closer to your thigh and you felt your face heating up. You slapped your hand over your mouth once he starting biting the garter and pulling it off. As he continued, you cupped your face. When Jean was finally day, cheers erupted and you uncovered your hot face. Jean closes his eyes and throws the garter into the crowd and it lands in the hands of Reiner. The guys cheer even louder for him as he awkwardly glances over at Bertholdt, who is a few people away from him.

Next was the bouquet throwing. You closed your eyes and the guest counted you off. Once you heard the number three, you threw the bouquet. You open your eyes and turn around to see that Bertholdt had gotten the flowers. His face is so red...he look like a tomato.

After your guest settled down, it was time to cut your cake, meaning that your wedding day was almost over. You picked a (cake of your choice) for tonight. "It looks delicious. I can't wait to try it," Jean whispers in your ear. "It is. You'll love it," you respond. You pick up a knife. Jean wraps his hands around yours. You both gently place the knife on the cake and pushed it down. You lean back to give Jean a kiss and he gives you one. Jean grabs two forks by the cake and hands one over to you.

Jean scoops a piece of the cake first. He places a hand on your chin and you open your mouth. "Ladies first," he says as he places the cake in your mouth. You take a minute to savor the taste before swallowing. You also take a piece of the cake and get on your toes to feed Jean. He chuckles softly at your struggle before taking the fork from you and feeding himself. "You're right, it's good," he says after swallowing. He bends down slightly to give you another kiss.

The night was slowly coming to an end. There was no sight of Connie after his stupid speech and Levi and Erwin were getting ready to get home. Historia and Ymir had left right after the cake cutting ceremony but had promised to call you once everything had settled down. You and Jean formally greeted your guest and started your goodbyes.

Mikasa had gone up to you with a slightly awkward face. "Today wasn't so bad, huh?" she starts. You give her a kind smile. "It wasn't. Did you enjoy yourself?" Mikasa pauses to answer. "Your wedding was beautiful...however, I can't get upset over the reaction about me being here. y/n, I have to apologize again. What I did was completely wrong. I shouldn't even be blaming Levi for everything. I could have told you at first and-"

You pull Mikasa into a hug to shut her up. "Mikasa, move on. Come on, we're adults! At least you're apologizing and trying- unlike someone we know," you joke. You pull away. "Hopefully, if Jean and I have a real wedding, it won't be as awkward for you." Mikasa nods. "I'll see you around. Congrats." As Mikasa walks off, Reiner, Bert, and this mystery blonde come up to you. Inside Reiner's pocket is your garter sticking out and Bertholdt is clenching your bouquet.

"Hey," you start," Thank you for coming. Who's your friend?"

Bertholdt looks over at the blonde. "Thank you for inviting us...um...this is Annie. My dad thought you were her."

Now, why did Bertie's dad think you was this yt girl?😟

LMAO. "Nice to keep you, Annie. You Bertie's girl?" you ask.

Annie shakes her head no frantically. "OH, NO. Never in a million years, no. Yuck!" she answers dramatically. Reiner throws an arm over Bert's shoulder. "He's actually my boy now," he says proudly. "OH-! Congrats! So we're having a wedding for you soon, yes?" You tease. Reiner nods and Bertie tries to hide his face in Reiner's hair. "When did this all happen...? I just eliminated you like...two weeks ago?"

"Well...Reiner and I were still in contact and when I left, he reached out to me. We met up a few times and we hit it off," Bertie explains. "Congrats. I'm really happy to hear that," you answer. You turn around to look for Jean. He's talking to his mom. He gives you a small glance before continuing his conversation with her. "I better go catch up with Jean. It was nice to see you...and finally meeting you, Annie." The trio say their goodbyes before leaving.

You make your way over to Jean but you're stopped by the human fit of annoyance- Levi. You were so tired of him but you threw on a smile since Erwin was walking over as well. "Yes, Levi? I thought we were done here," you say in a singsong voice. "Aw, you're ready to go?" Levi says sarcastically. You open your mouth to answer but he cuts you off. "For starters, thank you for adding on to mine and Erwin's paychecks. We really appreciate it. Arrangements for your hotel and honeymoon have been put together. You're tired of me, but don't hesitate to call me if something goes wrong. Besides that, I wish you luck. Make everything worth it."

Levi walks past you and Erwin stops to hug you before following his husband.

Jean makes his way up to you, his mom following behind. "Everything good? I saw shrimp talking to you." You take Jean's hand. "Everything's good." Jean pulls you into a side hug. "Aw, you guys are so cute. I really do hope you last," Jean's mom comments, "I've always wanted a daughter."

"Mom, nothing's official yet-"

"I'm glad you think of me as your daughter, June."

"Well, I'll see you later. Jean, take care of her tonight. Be good to her and listen to her. Don't be rough, she's not a rag doll," June warned her son. She had a finger up in his face and everything. Seeing their relationship on the regular was going going to be hilarious.

Jean swats his mom's finger out of his face before waving her goodbye. He then fully wraps his arms around you. "No offense. But I'm glad this is over. We'll get to know each other one on one now," he says. You can't help but agree.

ITS FINALLY OVER. well not exactly. i have one more chapter to write and y’all will never hear about levi, 12 guys, and dates ever again😭 but since this series has reached its goal (you getting married) please do me a favor and rate my series, it would be appreciated!

#black!reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot x black! reader #jean x black!reader #jean x reader #bertholdt x reader #connie spinger x reader #onyankopon x reader #eren x reader #reiner x reader #aot x reader #floch x reader #porco x reader #colt grice x reader #nicolo x reader #armin arlert x reader

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ofmermaidstories · 3 years

Note

Spoilers for the latest chapter of Something!

I'm gonna go ahead and apologize now because this is long; please feel free to ignore my wordy ass, I just have a lot of feelings about a certain someone that showed up in the new chapter lol.

I am still trying to get my shit together enough to write a proper review, but I did want to come yell at you for making the grape boy somewhat likeable, like...

Firstly, how??? Secondly, why?????!?!

Lmao, in all seriousness tho, it's nice to see him have a personality that isn't just "Mmmm, tits" *drools* I like to think that everyone in the series grows up and (mostly) out of the worst of their habits, and while Mineta is still a bit of a lecher here he isn't nearly as offensive/creepy as he comes off in show. In fact he's actually sympathetic in a lot way. The bit about seeing his first dead body before "getting laid" hit different like... He tries to play it off like a joke, but dude has to have just as much PTSD as the rest of them, maybe even more given that he wasn't able to fight back in the same way as someone like Bkg or Deku would be able to with their super powerful offensive quirks. They were all just kids, but they had to face hell full on from jump, and let me stop before I get too in my feelings lol.

In a lot of ways, he reminds of you the boys from school — crude. Taking for granted the safety from being in a pack, unchallenged. Leering at posters, saying off-colour things because no one corrects them.

That's exactly the way I view him, just a crude little thing that refuses to be put in his place for long lol. Still, with his being a hero I would hope that he keeps a cap on it while he's on the job--in fact I'm sure he does; if he didn't I'm sure that Aizawa would've yanked his licence by now, the likes of Deku and Kiri wouldn't continue to associate with him, and that's saying nothing of the shit that would get posted to social mead and such. I feel like the only reason he says what he says to the Reader is b/c she's a little gremlin herself and he knows he's got a bit more leeway, yanno?

The little hangout session that they had at the end of the chapter was weirdly heartwarming?? I want a friend(???) that I can be a surly little shit with and draw on and that will call my bf that's not really my bf but should be my bf because he's (that is Mineta) got more emotional intelligence than me lmao. Never thought I'd see the day when the grape would make for such an excellent wingman--tho I gotta wonder what that text he sent to Deku said. Probably something along the lines of "come get yo girl, she must be bored/lonely af because she asked to hang out with me" followed by "are you ever gonna close the deal or not? or have you already hit it??? >:)" just to give the guy an extra push (or maybe he's got a better sense of self-preservation than what I give him credit for, idk lmfaooo...)

Okay, this is WAY too long, I just had to get it out of my system lol. I loved the new chapter lots and I cannot wait to see how things play out in the next one!!

LOL, oh Puck, i adore you sdlkfjsdlkfjsdlkfj

me being a shit-stirrer/asking myself questions i don’t have answers for under the cut

Cat asked me this question earlier today, actually — why Mineta. And honestly? Part of it is the challenge he represents — like, how do you write him into a fic and mature him up so that he’s at the very least, tolerable, but also keep the backbone of his character (which is being a little degenerate). Like, is it possible? One of the most popular tags on ao3 for mineta minoru is something along the lines of “mineta minoru is replaced with shinsou hitoshi” LOL so…….. why didn’t I just use Shinsou? Or Aoyama or Iida, as Cat suggested? And beyond the part of me that delights in giving myself perceived challenges, there were two stark reasons that stuck out to me, when i was first mulling over his inclusion.

1) the fact that he can draw. it’s literally as simple as that. ever since the BNHA exhibition opened up in Japan and it was revealed that there was a scene in there with a class blackboard and the kids having their little drawing competition — and that Mineta was objectively the most skilled — i was like, “i have to include that”. LOL. it’s like you say, Puck, our Reader is a little gremlin herself — i thought if I was going to write a Reader that could handle interacting with him (ie, be in a position to pay him out) it was going to be this one. I think being in the manga industry and starting out on this journey of creating and drawing a Shonen manga sort of put Reader in this unique position of… being in what seems like a boys’ club? So she’d be used to the male gaze within her field. I follow Horikoshi’s assistant (former assistant?) on twitter and let me tell you, that man is not shy about the things that he likes to draw LOL.

the 2) thing was the philosophy i’ve sort of accidentally given myself LOL and that’s the fact that — as a Bakugou stan, if i’m giving grace to a character who was a literal violent bully then………. i can use my magic powers and hand it around to the other characters, too, LOL. and like, i would argue that with Bakugou it’s different, like we’re currently seeing in the manga how he has grown and learnt and is actively changing, which is the key to any kind of redemption. do i think Mineta will ever undergo that in cannon? absolutely not lmao, i see him as being being Hori’s idea of comedic relief, he’s always going to be a horrible little degen. but i want it for him…… if only to justify why the boys of Class-A collectively ignore his bullshit, for the most part? Like, none of them actively call him out on it?? i think of the time he tried to climb the wall to spy on the girls in the onsen — and how it was literally only Iida scolding him and how it took a child to stop him. Or the one when he found the stupid hole into the girl’s changing room and while the boys all looked grossed out….. Jirou’s the one that point an end to that?????? I saw a TikTok (derogatory) suggesting how like, none of the girls of Class-A would trust Aizawa, as adults, because he didn’t do anything to put an end to Mineta’s bullshit, and it was a devastating suggesting. None of us want to believe that our favourites would be passively okay with this kind of behaviour, right?? Which means……. Mineta’s gotta change LMAO. And if Hori isn’t going to do it then imma borrow him and do it myself. Does it work? I have no idea LMAO i can’t judge anymore, my meter is broken. but i’m gonna work with what i’ve given myself and it either will, or it won’t LMAOOOO kldsfjlksdjflkdj fic is about having fun at the end of the day. :’)

But it’s like you point out, Puck — Mineta is also a child, when these kids get trotted out to their first War. And he’s also not as offensively built as the hard-hitters like Deku and Bakugou and Shouto are. Even if it’s not explored in the manga, that War is going to change them all somehow.

So, my gameplan for Mineta was to grab ahold of the tiny things about him — the talent for drawing, the like one [1] observation he has about the wreckage of the war/pro heroes during the war arc, his tears for Bakugou when B wakes up afterwards and how he tells Deku how cool he was and how much he admires him, in the current Bring Deku Home chapters — and try to envision a sleaze bag who learns that the bullshit he pulls won’t be tolerated, even if he’s still ultimately a skeeze LOL. i mean, he’s never going to drop that er…. appreciation for the female form. and i mean, hey, live your best life King, i’ve distinctly noticed a hand-fetish floating around on this site lately so i’m not gonna be like “NO men can’t like ANYTHING”. But the thing with him being a sleaze and open with his leering is like, he’s actively made the girls of his class uncomfortable with that in the past — how do you write it so that he’s not doing that in a position of power with the women he works with (and saves!), as an adult?? Maturity only goes so far. How much can I bank on the war and the subsequent bullshit they’re gonna face from it on…. transforming him??? It shouldn’t be up to the girls he’s learning with to police him, they’re just children. I have a vague gameplan for it — whether or not it works will be one thing; whether i can naturally shove it into the fic is another, LOL. Guess we’ll see. 🧐

SAYING ALL THAT,,,,, i’m actually really glad you liked (???) the ending scene with him because it’s my favourite LMAO lkdjflkdsjflkdjfkldsjf. 😭😭 Reader is by no means perfect, and she and Mineta both need to start treating each other with more respect, but her bullying of him was fun to write and I like imagining a Mineta who considers himself to be close with Deku (whether or not Deku thinks the same is up for debate) going along with it. i could see this version of Mineta being enough of a shit-stirrer to say something like, “gotta lock that shit down” to Deku LMAO kdfjlkdsjflkdsfjdklsfj and then getting left on a skyscraper somewhere…. RIP short King.

#the puckish rogue: adventures and magic 🪄✨🔮#something just like this - fic #mer-spoils-everything #ofmermaidstories-asks #mermaids talks about 🍇#puck you are always thoughtful and lovely with your comments and i want you to know how much i appreciate them — but mostly how much #i appreciate you for existing in this world 😭 and how by chance we exist at the same time and like the same things 😭💕🌷

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 16

First time reader click here

Summary/TWs: Trouble is brewing. Canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of wounds and Clint whump. Bad, terrible, no-good medical accuracy. Aliens. Reader is an anxious genius with low self-esteem and PTSD. ✨spicy sadness✨

From now on, chapters will be posted un-beta-ed. She's taking a lil break. 💖💝✨

I liked to think I had made peace with the fact that my boys and girls had one hell of a dangerous job. Natasha, Clint, Steve and Bucky frequently left for missions and while I missed their usual bickering in the background, it wasn't like the tower's common room became absolutely quiet. The fact that they mostly did recon-only missions helped, too, as they would come home unharmed and in one piece. The worry was there but subtle - like setting the table and including silverware for the people who were gone on a mission.

Peter's patrols went less smoothly, usually. He was small and even in his spider-suit, the boy was frequently underestimated by common thugs. Apparently, they didn't know how to read the news - it was blatantly obvious the hero was enhanced. And yet somehow, Pete more often than not sported all sorts of bruises, scratches and tears.

Tony and I routinely tore out our hair over the spiderboy's carelessness. The engineer had a funny way of showing he cared for Peter. Once I got to know him better, my brain dubbed them as Irondad and Spiderson. And it wasn't weird at all, somehow, that I was basically fucking my best friend's dad. Tony never made me uncomfortable, if anything, he went to great lengths to accommodate my whims. Tony continuously found time for me, answered my dumb questions and soldiered through the shenanigans I got up to after having too much caffeine and too little sleep.

Sitting in the quiet, empty common room was unnerving. It was shortly after dinner time - the evening news skipped their usual political debate in favour of the battle that was raging downtown, the reason for my headache and wrung hands.

I missed Tony's running mouth. The aliens the team was fighting looked quite hilarious, murderous intentions aside, and I could only imagine the way Tony and Clint would mock them. Hentai rejects. Tentacle porn knock-offs. The aliens were squid-like, about half the size of a human and very, very slippery, from what I spied on the TV.

An irritated-looking Stephen had me equal parts apprehensive and drooling - one after another, he conjured up a series of small portals, teleporting the aggressive octopods only god knew where. It would have looked incredibly badass if not for the exhausted sheen of sweat I could see on his brow, even despite the camera footage being shaky and grainy.

The news footage showed Tony - Iron Man, soaring contentedly through the darkening skies and taking out the squirmy mass of tentacles with his plasma beam repulsors. Steve and Bucky and Loki appeared too, sporadically, being well-oiled murder machines. Nothing new.

Yet, I worried. The little worm of doubt was squirming full-force. I tried to ignore it, yet pacing, sitting and playing Candy Crush got me nowhere. I pestered Friday to order pizza, the team's usual post-mission order plus a large one for me - stress-eating was better than stress-popping-molly in a tower full of superheroes. It took some courage to admit to myself I'd gotten attached enough to be this much from running away from all that in a blind panic.

And it would be the best option for them, really, because they had much sensible things to worry about than me. Yet every time, my selfishness won against even the most logical arguments I presented. I hated fighting myself but it was all I did - not only I was in love with Tony, I loved him.

Even when he forgot about my existence for five days, to emerge from his workshop with a new piece of tech that revolutionised one or another or something else. I loved him when he annoyed the ever living fuck out of everybody, me included, because I knew that it was hilarious to see people getting riled up over totally trivial shit. I loved Tony Stark when he ran away from his feelings, and everybody else's, because he never managed to run far enough. Or he didn't want to. I loved him, because he was like a multilayered puzzle, complex and captivating and beautiful.

I thought a lot about it, more than people would have noticed. For someone as selfish and goal-oriented as me, Tony lived in my head rent-free most of the time. And nobody would find out if I had the choice because let's face it, I'm a short cameo in his life. I'm a fuckin' catch and even then, I can't expect to hold his attention forever. His genius is too brilliant to settle for one when he could easily have the whole damn world.

Another hour consisted of me pacing and accompanying the pizza delivery boys to the common floor. It was hilarious - they were obviously star-struck about walking the same carpet as their heroes. I could see the faint hope of meeting one of the Avengers in their eyes, their posture. All they got was me - in my sweatpants, Tony's tee and no bra. My tits got the attention they deserved, at least.

My lounging was interrupted by a golden circle noisily appearing in the middle of the room, followed by Clint abruptly falling through it with a pained moan. I froze, the pizza in my mouth turning to ash - Strange poked his head through the hole in space, finding my eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Help him, I don't have much time," He breathed and disappeared, closing the portal behind himself.

The pizza piece flew back in the box as I stumbled, jumped over the headrest, kneeling beside Clint in no time. "Bird, tell me what hurts," I demanded. Not that I had a clue what to do. I mean, I knew basic first aid and...

"My leg," He gritted out, curling in on himself. Fear flooded me, limbs turning to lead. Hawk had a good pain tolerance, I knew he could break an arm and not utter a single syllable until he thought it safe to showcase his vulnerability. "That squid motherfucker stung me, I don't know. My whole body is on fire," His speech was slurred.

I nodded, deciding to limit the touching to only the necessary actions. The leg of his pants was torn and the wound itself was shaped like a whip mark, thin and red and angry. It oozed a yellowish pus-like substance, it smelled bitter, almost like stale water and seaweed salad. I didn't know much about aliens but jellyfish stings, I could work with. A short Google check later, I had an approximate plan.

"Friday, run diagnostics." I ordered, taking a deep breath and filing away the fear, the panic and anxiety for later.

"Mr. Barton has a wound that appears to be contaminated with an unknown chemical that is causing an adverse reaction. The elevated body temperature suggests that his immune system is fighting it. I would suggest a blood test to examine the offending specimens."

A blood draw? I could do that. I definitely, absolutely, could do that.

"Bird, Clint, did you hear that?" I gently touched his shoulder only for him to recoil from my hand, muttering unintelligibly. "Pretty bird, I'm going to help you. Let me." My bedside manner needed improvement - with brain running a mile a minute, I babbled utter nonsense as Friday directed me to the needed supplies. Getting the blood was a feat on it's own - I had to physically sit on top of Clint to get but a tiny vial of the red liquid.

A few tears escaped the emotional fortress I had to build within myself. Clint was in so, so much pain - pain I was inadvertently making worse by touching him. I sprinted to Bruce's lab, feeding the sample to be analysed by Friday, tearing through the room in a hurricane. First aid kit, IV, saline, antibiotics. Restraints, too, just in case.

"Analysis complete. The contaminant appears to be acting similarly to a parasitic infection with a short life-span. Primarily feeds on copper, iron and various metals contained in the human body. Does not appear to reproduce or multiply, my algorithms cannot determine the cause of said behaviour. Calculating..." Friday's mechanical voice paused. "I have calculated the approximate duration of Mr. Barton's symptoms. Onset of critical stage in one to three hours. Complete extinction of parasitic organisms in approximately sixty hours."

"Fri, do you think I have a chance of saving Clint before he goes crazy from pain? And have you figured out what's causing it?" My brain was all over the place.

"I have the best faith in you, miss." The AI sounded almost... Comforting? "I am still running multiple diagnostics. My algorithms suggest the organisms may be attacking the nerve endings - reason unclear."

An idea struck me. A crazy, brash, absurd idea. The pathogen was alien and we didn't have antibiotics to kill it. Even if I gave Clint some sort of medicine, it could go awry really really quickly. Besides, wasn't there a medical team for this..?

"Friday, alert the medical suite."

"Request denied. Per Mr. Stark's protocols, only Sir himself and Dr. Banner are authorized to request medical assistance in case of alien pathogen contamination."

"Fuck. Fuck, that makes no fuckin' sense!" I yelled helplessly. "Okay, do you have blood matching Clint's type laying around?" I asked sarcastically. This protocol pissed me off. What was Tony scared of? That someone would steal alien germs? Too late for that, there were plenty of samples all over the sidewalks downtown.

"A-positive, blue refrigerator, top shelf." Friday's answer was curt.

My hands shook. My whole body shook. Clint was laying in fetal position right where I'd left him and the man wasn't looking better - he became paler, dark circles under his eyes, clammy sweat breaking on every exposed part of his skin. Moving him was out of the question - Clint violently recoiled from me once I tried to touch him.

Reluctantly, I dragged the dining room chairs and piled up whatever heavy things I could on top of them, praying to every god that they would hold a trained man trash around in pain. Then, came the restraints. Belts with clips unlike one could see in a movie with a psych ward. I fumbled with them, then with Clint - very slowly, but I got both of his arms fastened and the man rolled onto his back.

"Wwhat... S'appening..?" Hawk finally slurred, cracking his eyes to see my (probably) disheveled and panicked face.

"This is going to hurt, I won't lie. A lot," I rambled, setting up the tools needed for both a blood draw and a blood transfusion. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not a scientist. You have alien parasites in your blood. I'm going to get rid of em," I announced, not mentioning the fact that I had to Google all the things I was going to do to him.

"S'okay, I trust you," Clint slurred again, moving about much more weakly than before. The tips of his fingers began to turn blue and the blood vessels on his face stood out in a pink-purple web. Not good.

My finest thinking moment: laying out some tarp around the archer and putting on gloves and a mask to minimize the possibility of getting infected. I started with the wound first, carefully wiping away the yellowish goop and immediately sealing it into a biohazard container. Some alcohol around the edges, the wound began emanating a faint wisp of smoke as Clint yelled hoarsely. I didn't even react - man, aliens and their germs were fuckin' weird.

Another biohazard container traveled next to Clint's arm. I had a disposable scalpel in one hand and my courage in another - it was now or never. The vein I was cutting was a minor one, but with Clint's body in total disarray, it was an ugly fountain of pinkish-purple liquid that spurted from it. I was no doctor but blood shouldn't have looked like that.

I stared at the timer on my phone. Twenty seconds, thirty, fifty. Eighty seconds, the blood was beginning to have more of a red hue. Clint's breathing slowed, tremors subsiding by a smidgen. One hundred and eighty seconds, the stream was a healthy deep red colour. With a swift motion, I wrapped up the wound, folded his arm, tied off the blood flow higher up his arm with a spare restraint. Clint wasn't moving much anymore; my hand that periodically checked his pulse shook but dutifully did it's job. His heart was working steady.

Compared to having to drain a friend of his blood, setting up the IV with a transfusion was a walk in the park. My mind was empty of any thoughts but for the actions needed to complete the process.

The container with contaminated blood, closed, sealed and put in a plastic bag, along with the gloves and the tarp. My own exposed flesh, meticulously scrubbed with alcohol until the skin became red and raw. All the instruments, Clint's pants, my clothes - in the bag.

The archer himself was laying still, his breathing steady and calm, face no longer looking like he was one step away from the grave. After undoing the restraints, I wiped down every surface we touched with Tony's vodka - rubbing alcohol had run out and I was too emotionally drained to go downstairs and leave Clint for too long. Whenever the booze collided with a stray drop of blood, a wispy smoke emerged. Such an interesting reaction. Part of me couldn't wait to examine the phenomena together with Bruce. The other part was considering the possibility of having a panic attack in a seafood restaurant.

"Fri, keep an eye- a sensor on Clint for me, will ya? I need a shower and some pants," I denounced tiredly, padding to the communal shower. I found respite, however brief, under the steam for a few minutes. Then I found Tony's old tee and a pair of someone's sweats - I didn't care whose. Post-stress adrenaline shivers had me feeling stark naked in the middle of Alaska despite the room being a toasty, comfortable temperature according to the digital thermostat.

Now I just had to think about what to tell the team.

Propping Clint's head on a decorative pillow and covering him with a soft fleece blanket was the least I could have done for the long suffering archer. The floor was hard but I sat next to him, running a hand through his matted hair, my brain an incomprehensible mess.

✨ TAGLIST OF MY LOVELIES (OPEN) ✨

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

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