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hops-hunny · 3 years

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Hello?

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Request: N/A

Summary: Neville and (Y/n) get high together often.

Warnings: drugs( weed lmao), swearing, making out

A/N: This was based on the specific lyric below from Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. Pothead confident Neville is my favorite headcanon dfregfefe. I also felt like writing for Neville bc after reading a lot of @lxngbottom‘s fics I was DEEPLY inspired.

“Are you into me, like I'm into you?

Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?

You're so close, and yet so far

I wonder how you look when you're in the dark”

The Weasley siblings all found themselves in absolute bliss when their parents told them they were going on a getaway. Apparently Arthur had learned about muggle spas and thought it’d be a lovely idea to take his wife to one for a much needed vacation after many years she had been caring for her children (and sometimes their guess) without barely any breaks. The gaggle of gingers all found it to be quite a wonderful idea too, but for other reasons. Although they had varying reasons of why they were excited for their parents to leave the house, Ron’s being wanting to invite over the other ⅔ members of the Golden Trio, Ginny wanting to wear that skirt that her mum always told her was ‘just a tad too short, dear’, and lastly Fred & George wanting to try out new and exciting inventions there was that one thing that tied them all together: wanting to get blazed out of their fucking minds.

However, as quickly as that mischievous glint formed in all their eyes, their mother said something they all dreaded.

“Oh and by the way, we’re leaving Percy in charge!”

A collective groan was shared as the boy in question held a proud and cocky smirk that once again, he was the most trusted out of his siblings. However as per usual, Fred and George were not giving up that easily.

“What are we going to do?! You know Percy will rat on us!” Ron whispered yelled at the other three through gritted teeth. They all sat around the quaint little living room, distressed at what to do. Ron had already sent a text (is that what they were called? He wasn’t used to the muggle technology (Y/n) had got them all to use) to both Hermione and Harry telling them to pack their bags. He’d never live it down!

“Oh relax dear brother of mine! Me and Freddie here suspected something like this would happen so we came prepared. Right Fred?” George said with a smirk as he looked to his twin to the right of him. George nodded before pulling out an envelope.

“Exhibit A also known as ‘Blackmail dear Percival Into Leaving the House for the Summer.” he grin grew wider as he opened the envelope pulling out the photos. In the photos, Percy was shirtless during a party in the gryffindor common room. He had a half drunk bottle of fire whiskey in one hand and a blunt in his other which was held to his lips. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if dear ol’ mum and pop anonymously got pictures of their golden boy doing such awful acts?” he cooed, feigning a voice of disappointment.

“While you two idiots may not be helpful for jack shit else, leave it up to you to have a plan to get into trouble.” Ginny said rolling her eyes, a small smile forming on her face. “Well I guess that’s settled then. I’ll hit up (Y/n), Ron you hit up Nev and tell him to bring the loud. Lots of it too!”

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That’s how they all ended up where they are currently. ‘Exhibit A’ was more than enough to get Percy packing his bags and leaving for a friends house after their parents had left. And of course, Hermione, Harry, (Y/n), and Neville had all shown up at the Burrow bright and as happy as ever.

Although many people dealt around Hogwarts, Neville’s weed was always the best. He grew custom strains which were infused with other magical plants that had all sorts of properties. You wanted it to taste and smell like cheesecake? Done. Something odorless that packed a mean punch? Also done. He took good care of his product and went through the precautions to make sure it was not only safe but also that he didn’t get caught. He wasn’t always an avid weed smoker though. Originally, a friend had suggested it to him to help with his anxiety which had increased over the years but eventually it became less of an anxiety reducer and more of a favorite pastime. And hell, it left him with a pretty fucking nice amount of galleons in his pocket. It was also how he had met her.

He looked up at her form as she sat across the shed, looking as radiant as ever. She was laughing at something but he didn't know what over the sound of the music. One of his favorite things about her was how beautiful the whiteness of her smile was in comparison to her rich brown skin. It drove him absolutely nuts. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw her but as usual there was something new about her appearance.

He let his eyes wander over the work of art that was (Y/n). Her hair was different, her usual shoulder length black box braids had been swapped our for a beautiful set of honey blonde faux locs that stopped at her waist. In addition to her septum, she now had a nose ring on the left side of her nose and- was that a smiley piercing? Her skin was glowing vibrantly under the different hues of gold of LED lights that corresponded with the music. His eyes shifted down to her chest. 'Hm, she finally got the other one pierced' he noted due to the fact that her crochet bikini top left only the best bits of her breast to the imagination. And then he got to his favorite part. Her legs. Her supple, plush, smooth as glass legs. This wasn’t the first time he had stared at them longer than needed. He couldn’t help it, they were so fucking thick. And, were those his shorts? She must've stolen them from him last smoke sesh. He didn't mind though, she pulled off those denim shorts well and they hugged her in all the right fucking places.

“Bloody hell Nev, what’s taking you so long to roll the joint? Are you already that gone?” Ron groaned as he threw his head back. Neville looked down at the half rolled blunt in his hands, continuing to lick and roll it skillfully.

“Shut up Ron, just hit the fucking bong and leave Neville alone. Ol’ dramatic ass.” there was that honeysuckle voice he loved. God he could listen to her talk for fucking hours. I mean he had before. Her voice was sweet in the center and rough around the edges, a thick american accent still prominent in her voice. He smiled at that, looking up at her to find her already looking at him. As he continued to roll, he licked a fat strip on the wrap before shooting her a wink.

“Thank you, petal.” he murmured quietly knowing she hadn’t heard as he looked back down at his hands finishing up. He grabbed the same lighter that he carried with him everywhere before lighting the end. As he was about to take a hit, a certain pair of gloss coated lips leaned over his shoulders taking a hit as she wrapped her arms around his upper half.

Ron groaned again in irritation. “I hate it when you get the first hit! You always leave that damn sticky shit all over the blunt.” as he glared at the girl. She giggled before crawling off the wraparound couch taking her place next to brunette ruffling his long shaggy hair. He had been growing it out recently for no particular reason (definitely not the girl to his right).

“Ron you always buggin on something, nigga shut the fuck up! That’s why when you hit the blunt you leave it wet. Ol’ soppy mouth nigga I swear to god. Share with Mione.” she retorted as she leaned into Neville’s side looking up at him. He smiled down at her before wrapping his arm around her bringing her impossibly close. They both loved each other's touch when they were high. Whenever he’d touch her in one spot, (Y/n) always felt it in another- especially between her legs. She leaned up, kissing his freckled cheek with a smile. “Hey sir, how’s my favorite doing today?” she questioned as he bent down, placing a kiss right below her ear.

“You know I’m always content when you’re next to me, flower. You don’t even have to question it.” he whispered in her ear before pulling back. She felt her face heat up as she rolled her eyes shoving him lightly. She crawled in his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively moved one to her waist, stroking the smooth exposed sepia skin that was there for his enjoyment.

“You always talking some mess, Nev. Why don’t you do something bout it?” she said, motioning for him to hold the blunt up to her lips. He ignored her, looking into her eyes as he took a fat rip. He removed his hand from her waist, gripping her cheeks with it, rings digging into her skin. He leaned impossibly close as he shot gunned the smoke into her mouth. His lips hovered impossibly close to hers. ‘Finally’ she found herself thinking as she closed her eyes. However, the feeling of his soft pink lips never hit hers and she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her.

“And ruin this little game we have? Never.” He said, finally passing the blunt to her. If he had to be honest with himself, he was scared shitless. He was afraid if he actually did make that final move, jumped that final obstacle that she would be gone from his life. Sure, they made out all the time. It was normal for the two of them to get quite handsy with each other during smoke sessions but he found not even that being enough. He didn’t just wanna have his hands on her when he was high or wasted out of his fucking mind, he wanted her all the time. He wanted to sneak into each other's dorms and cuddle till wee hours of the morning. To carry her things to class for her. He wanted to live, breathe, and sleep (Y/n). But, is that what she wanted? He never knew.

She sighed softly to herself, contemplating. It was very apparent to her that Neville wanted her just as badly as he wanted her. So, why had he never jumped the gun? Did he not want more? Was he really content with this little cat and mouse game they had? He couldn’t be, she knew who he was at heart which was a romantic just as she was. She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the familiar beat of Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. She smirked at him, leaning her forehead against his as she began to grind softly on his lap.

“Are you into me? Like I’m into you. Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?” she sung to him softly, her (e/c) eyes meeting his hazel ones. He moved his hands up and down her body as she continued to grind her hips down on his. He let his hands travel to her ass, gripping it firmly. She leaned back slightly as she hit the blunt before returning the favor he had earlier. “You’re so close, and yet so far. I wonder how you look when you’re in the dark.” (Y/n) continued singing as kissed up his neck, nibbling at the junction of his jaw and neck. He took one of the hands from her ass, moving some of the locs that had fallen into her face. He quickly tossed the blunt out of her hand into the ashtray in the table in front of them before leaning in and kissing her with such strong intensity.

The honey blonde haired girl moaned softly, already putty in the boy’s hands. Neville always knew exactly what to do with his hands. Where to kiss, where to tug, where to bite. Anything but actually dealing with the problem between her legs. She tangled her hands into the back of his hair, matching his lip movement. As he continued holding her ass with one hand, he used his other to stroke her cheek gently. A stark contrast to the kiss they were in which was wet, rough, and fast. He trailed his tongue over her lip which she gladly accepted. Their tongues danced together lazily as sweat began to build up on both of them. She pulled away partly, a trail of spit connecting them.

“Take this dumb ass jacket off. It’s the middle of July.” She grumbled as she began to unzip it, leaving him in some muggle band shirt she had gotten him one year from the states. She leaned back in, continuing to move her hips to the beat of the song. Neville began to move his hips up to match her movements. “Oh? So you got moves now huh? Who taught you those?”

“Don’t play dumb petal, you know you did.” He responded before gripping at her neck with his ringed hand. She gasped softly, looking into his blood shot blown out eyes. The music, the lighting, his touch? It was all much too much to handle. Her senses were overloaded by pleasure, the jane in her system. He tightened his hand some, leaning in closer. “You’re driving me absolutely mad, darling. Do you know that? I’d do anything you asked me to.” the movement of her hips had stilled but he kept going. She could feel the imprint of his member through his pants. Suddenly it was the only thing (Y/n) could focus on.

“Them Ravenclaw girls weren’t lying then, huh? You packin like that Nev?” she said suddenly. She knew he had asked her something a second ago, but the weed was really starting to hit. Her brain was foggy and hazed, the only thing she could think about now was him. She took one of her manicured hands, trailing it down his shirt till she reached his crotch. She gripped it in her hands, eyes widening slightly. He chuckled softly, catching her attention.

“Don’t act so surprised. You know I used to get around quite a bit.” He said, moving so his tent was resting against her inner thigh.

“Used to?” she questioned, laying her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed. She took in his scent sighing softly. Neville always smelled like a mix of lavenders, cologne, and that loud. She knew it from anywhere, especially when she smelled it in the amortentia they brewed during potions that one time.

“Yeah I don’t really pipe girls like I used to.” He moved his hands up, embracing her close as he kissed the top of her head. “Ever since a certain pesky little American girl started making their way into my life, she’s all I could think about.” she rolled her eyes some, punching him on the arm as he began to laugh.

“Don’t fuck around like that, that shit aint even funny.” she grumbled, pouting as she crossed her arms. “I thought you had an actual answer!”

“On god that was my actual answer, (Y/n)! You asked why and I told you why. Absolutely anyone could tell I’m mad for you.” Neville said as he uncrossed her arms, holding her small delicate hands in his large ones. He intertwined their hands, her sharp acrylic nails digging into his hands slightly. “Did you know when Keaton Willis asked you to Hogsmeade, I was so mad that I wouldn’t sell to him for 3 months?!”

“But I didn’t even go with him! Me and you went together to go get ice cream, remember?”

“So?! He still fucking asked you. I’m getting heated just thinkin’ about it.” He mumbled as he looked away from her. He pulled her closer, resting his head on the top of hers. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you dating such a loser. He’s not even a good guy and he’s always fucking short with his galleons when he buys. I have to practically hound the guy for my money. Yknow what? Fuck it.” he looked up at the brown skinned girl before holding her face in both his hands. He took in her features. Her plump lips, edges laid to perfection, face ‘beat to the gods’ as she would say. “Go out with me. Be my girl, petal. I can’t bear you not being mine for another second.” he said. She pretended to ponder for a bit before she looked back at him.

“Depends, will I get free weed? I expect free weed from dating the weed man, you know.” she said with a giggle. He rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“You already get free weed! Don’t pretend you don’t.” he said loudly, catching the others’ attention.

“What? Nev that’s not fair! You always make me pay and we’re mates! What happened to bros befo-”

“Ron you finish that and you ain’t leavin this shed with an eye, I can promise you that boy.” she whipped her head around quickly, glaring at the boy. Ron quickly shut his mouth knowing first hand that her promises were never empty. He gulped slightly before nodding, turning back to Hermione who handed him the bong muttering something about how he looked like he needed it.

“But to answer your question, Nev baby, I’d love to be your girl. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than doing so.” (Y/n) leaned forward, leaving a lip gloss print on his cheek.

“Well I’m glad you said yes because it would’ve been very awkward explaining to everyone tomorrow where that hickey on your neck came from.”

“Nev!”

#black reader #black!reader #poc reader #poc!reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x you #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years

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Hello! I absolutely loved the feelings for the young liaison team kids, may I request some more of those please? With Megs, Roddy and Drift? (Maybe Cyclonus, if you don't mind as well?) thank you very much!

I love how so many asks want the bots to more or less adopt children who adopt them in turn, because that kind of softness is what our bots DESERVE. Rodimus, Drift (and Rung!) have their post here, the original is here, and below I'll have dear Megs and Cyclonus getting their dad vibes.

Megatron

·When the liaison program was decided upon, his presence on the ship had required some... additional precautions be taken, in order to convince the humans that any visitors to the Lost Light would be safe. Said measures had consisted mostly of him being warned repeatedly, both in and out of official correspondence, that he was to never be alone with the humans. Doing so or taking any other actions that made the humans feel even moderately unsafe would result in swift punishment. He'd understood every bit of the security measures, annoying as they were repetitive, and endeavored to follow them. Seeing young members of a species he'd attempted to exterminate wasn't something he wanted to seek out anyway. Thus, he'd been quite purposefully unavailable when the group came onboard.

·Massive as the ship is, however, he'd been unable to elude the liaisons forever. On one fateful day he'd encountered all of them by chance, and thankfully there had been other bots around to ensure Ultra Magnus wouldn't throw him in the brig for breaking any promises. The humans had looked just as surprised as he had to see the former Decepticon leader staring down at them. To their credit though, and his shock, they hadn't fled screaming in an instant. Rather, they'd cautiously approached him as a unit. The boldness had been so unexpected he'd actually felt quite like fleeing himself once they'd started asking questions. With the other Autobots around he'd been forced to stand his ground, and thankfully the humans hadn't been nearly as aggressive as he'd been expecting, keeping most of their questions in the realm of polite but naive curiosity. Perhaps the Fools Energon was simply getting in his head, but he'd walked away from the encounter believing it to have been... pleasant.

·At the next chance meeting, made possible by everyone on the ship relaxing his restrictions, he's admittedly a little happy to see the liaisons. It happens in Swerve's bar, and they're actually able to converse with minimal oversight. The opportunity to get to know humans in depth is one he explores with caution though. Despite his current goal of righting past wrongs, he can't simply undo what he attempted to carry out on this species, as friendly as the young humans are to him. Knowing that fact is what makes him ache despite the pleasant conversation. They talk of their dreams, and ask him about innocent things in return, with particular fascination for his size and strength. Such bright and vivid souls, that he was once utterly indifferent to... How many brilliant lives like them did he snuff out without a care?

·Yet he keeps talking to the little ones whenever the opportunity presents itself. They might be some of the first beings to speak so casually to him in eons, and once they start asking about politics... Well, he can't resist sharing the beliefs he'd once thought too optimistic. As always, each liaison proves a spirited debate expert, despite being small enough to fit comfortably in his palm. Ignoring the rules, they often end up doing just that, though it's more for convenience as he doesn't want them to strain themselves shouting to be heard. Inevitably the restrictions on him loosen to the point he actually begins sitting with them gathered across his massive frame like birds on an oversized but comfortable tree, and through them he gets little samples of earth life in the form of stories and videos on their communication devices.

·It's the happiest he's ever been, and that's probably why he inevitably caves to his self loathing, the joy these little ones bring him forcing back memories of his many crimes against their kind. Even seeing them is a right he shouldn't feel so entitled to. For their sake, he decides to avoid them going forward, to protect them from himself and his legacy in addition to the weight of his conscience. Of course, the liaisons very quickly notice that they aren't seeing him around and one day decide to seek out answers. To his surprise, he fails to simply explain himself through a gentle lie when they eventually find him, as if their faces compel him to speak truthfully. He breaks and reminds them of what he is and what he's done, and that staying away is for their own good, especially considering he can hardly be trusted. As always, they surprise him.

·In total agreement, they all reassure him of a few things. First is that they're all well aware of who he is and what he's done. Second is that they knew that when they decided to approach him, and that his efforts to redeem himself have not gone unnoticed, which is why they've bonded with him as they have. They made the choice to get to know him, and while they can't speak for the many factors of the Cybertronian conflict beyond their understanding, they are allowed to decide they like who he is here and now. Had he a less hardened spark, their words would have made him weep. Instead, he quietly thanks them and promises to think on what they've said. In the end, he honors their decision by returning to the locations they expect him, and they continue as they did before. This time, however, he's more than just gentle while they clamber over him. He's protective as only a bot of his size can be to beings he truly appreciates as his found family.

Cyclonus

·The emotion he felt upon learning of the incoming liaisons was best summarized as "mild curiosity" at best. Not that he looked down upon the incoming crewmembers, but he just didn't think them worthy of much fuss, and only intended to learn enough to effectively avoid them going forward. A not so subtle warning not to intimidate them with his appearance cemented the emotion. On the day of their arrival, he met the whole group quite by chance during their introductory tour, and to his chagrin each one was fascinated by him in particular. Unable to even tell them apart at first, he'd been somewhat placated by their curiosity for things his own kind often overlooks. For the sake of cultural preservation, he decides that answering their questions won't be too much of a burden if done from time to time.

·Now reasonably well settled amongst the crew, he doesn't find it too hard to handle the socialization with multiple humans at once, though admittedly he's a little concerned when he learns of their age. Allowing what are essentially slow developing protoforms to explore on an alien vessel seems... irresponsible. Yet their youth does explain their energy, especially as they ask him many questions about topics he enjoys speaking of, starting with his accent leading to a grand recounting of Tetrahexian history. Unlike so many bots, they gladly listen to him go on about the glory days. Their little eyes go wide as he recounts technological wonders long gone. Had he less control it would have brought a smile to his face, especially when he lets slip his knowledge of the Old Cybertronian language and soon has a whole group begging to learn it.

·While he's hardly gone soft, he does allow the humans a touch more... freedom, in how they interact with him compared to others. They even enjoy the privilege of resting atop his shoulders or in his arms, though that's purely to save his back the strain of constantly bending down to their height. Any bot that says otherwise is swiftly reminded of his combat prowess. He begins to learn each human's unique personality and quirks in time, especially how some are better with history and others excelled at language. Learning bits about their own culture was surprisingly interesting as well, with pictures and videos of long gone human civilizations proving that some of Earth's occupants had decent aesthetic taste.

·Without knowing it, he more or less avoided discussing his own past with the little group, gently steering the conversation each time it ventured too close to the personal. The reason became blindly apparent when they learned of his former affiliation and the crimes he'd committed while sworn to it. Though not present for the revelation, he's certain of their reaction being one of fear and disgust, and immediately withdraws from the crew to hole himself up. Emotions too powerful to stifle force him to isolate for the sake of what remains of his pride. Not even knowing how exactly the humans found out, he's not particularly inclined to discover the manner, as the damage has been done. Admittedly, he was foolish to assume it wouldn't happen sooner.... Regardless, he knows he can never face them again.

·Unbeknownst to him, the revelation was a mistake, and one not met with any particular judgement. The liaisons were only concerned when he failed to appear at standard places of meeting, and as a unit agreed to check up on the bot they'd all come to admire. It had taken all of them knocking to get a coherent response through the door, and Cyclonus had cursed himself for being unable to simply tell them to leave, his spark indeed proving too soft at the sight of them all together. When he'd allowed the group inside, the last thing he'd been expecting was a coordinated embrace between the lot of them, but that had proven to be their tactic straight away. It had proven cunning and effective. A plurality of reasons for his shame had melted in the face of open hearted acceptance, with the entire group promising that who he had been mattered little compared to who he was now. To prevent a humiliating display of tears he'd accepted their assurance without fuss, but had indeed been convinced by the sheer strength of their conviction to continue meeting them for their little talks. Despite himself, he'd actually smiled the first time reuniting with them afterwards, his demeanor growing warmer in their presence from then on as he promised to himself no harm would ever befall them. They had accepted him, and he would do the same in return. Nothing in his past had ever compared to the treasure of simply knowing them.

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lostlight #lost light #ll #idw #tf #my writing #my asks #anon #requests #liaisons #human reader #self insert #megatron #cyclonus

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pi-cat000 · 3 years

Text

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (6)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters: Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START / PREV / NEXT

As predicted, the day following the seal’s application is miserable. His chest is tight with almost anxiety, pins and needles run up and down his arms making his skin itch, and he is increasingly lethargic. All symptoms of a chakra imbalance and to be expected when one’s normal chakra replacement rate was thrown out. The sensations would pass once his body adjusted as they had with his sharingan.

He is eating three square meals a day, doing the bare minimum when it came to exercise routines and avoiding excess chakra use. It had been literal years since he had had this much bed rest. If he were ever going to slap a chakra collecting seal on himself, this was a perfect time. Okay, so maybe he should have steadily increased the chakra drain over the course of a few weeks for a smoother adjustment period. Hindsight and all that.

What mattered was that he would be fine, and he just had to wait it out. Bright side? No one had commented on the seal yet. Oh, he has definitely noticed serval people throwing the odd confused frown at his shoulder, but that was as far as anyone had gone in acknowledging it. His oh so clever strategy of acting like nothing was wrong worked so much better when he wasn’t surrounded by other shinobi and medic-nin.

“Your blood pressure is still too high. Are you sure you haven’t been experiencing any additional fatigue or other symptoms? Is something about the hospital causing additional stress? If there is something wrong, we should work on strategies to fix the problem.”

Well… it worked on everyone who wasn’t Wada. The man was irritatingly persistent in his doctoring. Apparently, the pressure of adjusting to an increased chakra drain wasn’t doing his body any favours.

“Maybe it’s a part of my quirk. High regeneration. High blood pressure.” Kakashi shrugs loosely not bothering to look up from HEROES and HEROINES May Issue. Unlike his previous reading material, people gave him odd looks when they saw him reading these magazines which immediately upped their entertainment value 100-fold.

Wada undoes the compression sleeve he had been using to measure Kakashi’s blood pressure, lecturing as he goes, “From what I can tell your cells produce more energy-rich molecules, ATP, NADH, then is typical, increasing cellular functions. Where your cells are getting the energy to produce these molecules, I have no idea seeing as you eat about the same amount as any baseline human. What I can safely say is that it should not influence your blood pressure. If anything, your blood pressure should be a bit lower than average. Now don’t dodge the question.”

He pauses, waiting for Kakashi to cave and suddenly confess. Kakashi, an old hat at dodging medical questions, continues reading unperturbed.

“I’ve been at this for over 30 years. An attack like the one you suffered is understandably traumatic, not to mention the stress of severe amnesia. I’m sure, whatever is bothering you, I’ve heard it before.”

Kakashi very much doubts that. “I feel fine.”

Wada huffs, unconvinced, “Young men. You all think that admitting you have a problem is a sign of weakness. High blood pressure can damage your heart and lead to problems later in life so finding the cause is important.” Good thing a shinobi life spans tended to max out around 30. The odds of him making it to an age where he’d have to worry about the long-term effects of anything were pretty low. He doesn’t voice this opinion, continuing to read.

Wada continues talking with greater gusto, “No matter, I’ll prescribe you something for stress hopefully that’ll help with your blood pressure. However, this is no replacement for healthy habits both physical and mental. You should consider professional therapy.”

Kakashi snorts. Yeah, that sounds about right.

“Oh, you think that’s funny do you,” Wada makes to grab HEROES and HEROIENS and he lets the doctor pull the magazine free from his hand. It gives him a good view of the man’s irate expression.

“No, of course not.” Kakashi attempts to placate and gets a light smack over the head with said magazine for his troubles.

“There is no shame in pursuing a healthy mind!”

“Weren’t we going to test my quirk today?” He complains to derail the current line of questioning.

“I have half a mind to put it off and have you rest another week,” is threatened before Wada’s stern expression relaxes, “Lucky for you, I’ve booked you into serval tests that can’t be rescheduled.”

Kakashi breaths out dramatically. He thinks Wada might have made a good medic-nin if he had lived in Konoha. Sure, he is a little too trusting, but he was also not above pestering his patients into taking better care of themselves. Sakura would approve.

The doctor, with the assistance of an attending nurse he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of, helps Kakashi out of his bed and into a wheelchair, ignoring his protests about his leg being all but healed.

“You’re to avoid putting weight on it until you start physical therapy,” Wada snaps at his continued complaints, “You’ll need to be careful, extended bed rest and surgery can leave your muscles weakened. Also, leave that magazine behind. You’re doing eye tests when do you think you’ll have time to read!”

Kakashi doesn’t push the matter further, resigning himself to being wheeled down the hospital halls like the invalid he was pretending to be. It is not like Wada knew about his frequent excursions to the roof or the fact that he has been running through strengthening exercises on his own time for several weeks now. Best he keeps that information to himself.

Partway down the hall, he pulls out HEROES and HEROIENS from where he had slipped it into his shirt, enjoying Wada’s exasperated expression. Of course, he stops reading when the doctor threatens to start lecturing again. The man could definitely talk when given the chance.

Wada and the nurse take wheel him to a set of double-door elevators which take them down several floors below the ground level. The hallway they exit of a mirror of every other hospital hallway. Grey and white walls, pale blue lino floor and bright fluorescent overhead lights. The only difference is that this hallway is lined with heavy-looking metal doors. From snooping through patient files, he knows that all quirk tests are carried out in specially designated underground ‘safety rooms.’ That doesn't make him any more thrilled about being several stories underground. It cut down on his escape roots.

“These are some of the more secure recovery wards in the hospital,” Wada explains as their little group stops at a small reception desk where the doctor taps away at a computer screen, “they’re mostly for treating patients with unstable quirks.” Kakashi maintains a neutral expression, accepting the explanation.

Wada wheels him up to a steel door, swiping his ID card which also doubled as a key to many areas of the hospital. The heavy door is automated and slides open. A lot of the doors in the hospital operate this way and always made sneaking around slightly more troublesome.

Inside walls and floor are plain white and there is an odd number of tables and chairs pushed to one side out of the way. Everything stinks of disinfectant. On the far wall is a single solitary painting of a tree in a field, the only splash of colour in an otherwise depressingly sparse room. A poor attempt at living up the space. The opposite wall sports a rectangular, reflective surface which was probably some sort of observation booth. Well, if being underground hadn’t put him on edge, this obvious confinement room definitely did the job. Kakashi eyes the space. Worse comes to worst, he could use the kamui and remove the adjoining hallway wall then climb his way out through the elevator shaft. There are only two other people in the room with him and one woman at the reception desk, all were most likely unenhanced with quirks unsuited to combat, easily removed. He doesn’t let his body language reflect his unease. He is just a little on edge because the new seal is messing with his body’s natural homeostasis. If this is a trap there would have been other signs of deception before now.

“Yes, I know it might seem like a whole lot of fuss just to run through a few flashcards,” Wada comments, oblivious to Kakashi’s poor mood. He waves to his assisting nurse who wheels over and lowers one of the metallic tables so Kakashi doesn’t have to move from his wheelchair. “But it’s a standard safety procedure when an unknown quirk is involved. Trust me, this is a lot easier than travelling to an external testing range.”

Wada stops to give Kakashi a once over, frowning, “How much do you know about your quirk sub-type?”

Kakashi shrugs, “Nothing much.”

“Ah,” The doctor’s frown grows, and he grimaces, “Of course you don’t.” A sigh.

“Typically, ocular quirks will act to enhanced sight in some way or improve base level memorisation and recall ability. It is also common to have a replicating function, allowing the user to produce some sort of copy of things they see. In rarer cases, ocular quirks result in precognitive abilities.” Wada explanation falters, “They can also have a line-of-sight emitter effect, such as laser vision, optical blasts, a few instances of mind control and other mental effects. These can also be incredibly dangerous if the user isn’t in control. There have even been instances where whole buildings have been levelled.”

“I see.” He supposes Wada's irritation at this private 'quirk' testing made a bit more sense. A doctor faced with an unknown and possibly dangerous ability would be annoyed if said patient went about experimenting without taking safety precautions.

“I should have checked whether you knew the dangers instead of just assuming. Apologies. That is my own error.”

He peers at Kakashi, almost guilty now, “and you don’t have a phone either so there would have been no way for you to research quirks yourself.”

“Ah,” Kakashi rubs the back of his head not likening how torn up the other man seems to be seeing as Kakashi had ever been in any real danger. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassures.

His reassurances land flat, the doctor still frowning, “I’ll see if I can get you access to the internet somehow.”

Privately, Kakashi adds 'research' to the list of functions ‘phones’ apparently provided and 'internet' to his growing list of terms to investigate.

Wada sighs again. “Regardless, let’s get these tests done first.” He places a thick folder labelled National Standard for Registration: Kit Type 3 alongside one of those portable keyboard-less computers the doctors tended to carry around. “Hold on, been a while since I’ve done one of these. Need to find the rights files. Ah, here we go. First, these rooms are monitored, and all tests are recorded. The data collected is confidential, accessible only to the patient and physician unless doing so causes the patent harm. Information regarding quirk function and use is shared with the Registry Office. You have a right to stop testing at any point. You got that?”

Kakashi grunts, his already poor mood souring further. He is not sure he wants the hospital - or anyone - keeping records of anything sharingan related.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Wada continues unperturbed, a testament to his serval weeks of trying to doctor Kakashi, “remember to let me know if you’re experiencing any discomfort. Don’t want you busting anymore blood vessels.

Kakashi lets out a tired breath, “Sure.” The sooner they left this room the better.

“We’ll test memory and vision first to compare to your baseline, then we’ll run through the replication and precognitive tests just in case.”

The nurse, who had been on the opposite side of the room waves, “All ready over here.” There is now a large poster with letters of varying sizes hung on the wall. He recognises the chart from his previous eye tests.

“Okay, let’s start with just uncovering it. Make sure you’re looking away from me as a precaution.”

Kakashi resists rolling his non- sharingan eye at the obvious instruction, shifting his attention to the poster on the wall. He flips his padded eyepatch up with his index finger so it partially rests on his forehead. All the letters, no matter the size, immediately snap into sharp focus. Nothing spontaneously combusts under his gaze. When he glances at the painting of the tree, he can now see a lack of brush texture, suggesting that it wasn’t a painting but a print of some sort. With that useless information now forever etched into his memory, he turns back to examine at Wada.

The sharingan picks out all the wrinkles and pores lining the older face. It focuses in on minuscule muscle movements as the man’s expression shifts from professional and accommodating to curious. The doctor’s fingers twitch ever so slightly over his computer. Most likely an unconscious habit. The man’s breath is slightly uneven like his chest can’t smoothly expand, suggesting some sort of lung problem. A past smoking habit perhaps? Nothing threatening is revealed.

“Doctor.” Kakashi prompts when Wada spends a little too long staring back at him. The sharingun did have a weak hypnotic effect, encouraging extended eye contact to help catch targets in genjutsu. Kakashi rarely uncovered his eye in the presence of civilians so he doesn’t know if the effect is more pronounced or if Wada is just curious.

Wada blinks, “Well…I certainly see where the ‘wheel’ description comes from.” He spends a second more staring then turns to start writing notes and tapping away at his computer screen. “I wonder if those spinning tomoe are purely cosmetic or if they have some other function because they are certainly fascinating to look at. There is also faint bioluminescence to the eye which is a common feature of ocular quirks…”

Honestly, the blatant eye contact is weird. Even his closest allies tended to avoid looking at his sharingan out of habit - expect for Naruto who was an outlier in almost everything - for understandable reasons. He thinks the people here would also exercise caution if an ocular abilities included mind control or exploding a person through eye contact. But no, Wada just goes right ahead and stares. A few seconds later and the unnamed nurse is also looking curiously at his eye. … …

Aside from redoing a standard eye exam, Kakashi runs through a marathon of flashcards to test both his memory and then precognitive abilities. The tests are done with lights on then in the dark and Kakashi is given a perfect 20/20 and an enhancement score of ‘15 grades above average’ for both. There are also several pages worth of words and numbers in progressively complex arrangements to test his information retention. Of course, everything is easily remembered with the sharingun active.

“Well, it seems to give general across the board vision enhancement alongside perfect recall and retention,” Wada finally concludes as he records all Kakashi’s results, “Of course, we’ll have to re-test retention in a few days so see if the information degrades over an extended period and we don’t know whether your quirk effects your long distance eyesight, but, for now, this appears to be all. The link between your quirked eye and the regenerative side-effect is still unknown. Odd that we couldn’t trigger any ‘copy’ function considering the quirks name though ‘copy’ could also be a reference to memorisation. If any other features do reveal themselves make sure you alert a medical professional.”

… …

Kakashi despises the process of getting an MRI with a heated passion. He hates having to lie prone in a loud confined space. It is the height of discomfort, making him tense up and clench his jaw. It is only the fact that Kakashi had researched and mentally prepared himself for the experience that stops him from accidentally snapping someone’s neck.

“We’ll have the results back in a few days,” Wada informs once the trying ordeal is over with, “From there we’ll update the Registry so you’re properly in the system. Speaking of which, have you made any progress on remembering a surname? I need something for the forms.”

“Hatake,” he grunts, too irritated to bother evading - he just wants to return to his room and wait out the side effects of his seal in peace- the question like he had every other time the man asked, “I think I prefer Kakashi though.”

It wasn’t like the name meant anything here and, who knows, maybe someone would come looking for him. This way they would have a trail to follow.

#bnha #bnha fanfic #naruto #boku no academia #CrossOver #kakshi hatake #dimension travel AU #fanfiction #my hero academia #more hospital stuff #probably a bunch of medical inaccuracies #quirk biology #quirk stuff #world building

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winterbanner · 3 years

Text

Mercy (Bruce Banner/OFC)

Summary: Bruce is upset after a mission goes awry. Can Catherine's words help him to see himself in the way that she does? Takes place six months after the first avengers film.

Tags: Angst, Emotional Hurt/ Comfort

Word Count: 2687

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rated PG-13

Pairing: Bruce Banner x OFC (Catherine King, former SHIELD agent gone rogue, now a member of the Avengers.) Her name is only mentioned twice, so just ignore it of you’re looking for a self-insert)

It wasn’t easy being an Avenger, but today felt especially taxing. The battle wasn’t necessarily harder than others, it was the civilians that made the experience all the more horrific. They were everywhere, scattered throughout the streets, sprinting in a panic to find cover, to save themselves from the cataclysmic destruction. We tried to direct them all to safety, and for the most part we were successful, but there were only seven of us and hundreds upon hundreds of them.

When it’s your job to save lives it becomes difficult to focus on the positives, to think about the ones you saved, to consider how many lives would have been lost if you were not present. It is impossible to celebrate a victory, when the dead bodies of innocent civilians, bloodied and lying under the rubble, products of a conflict in which you were involved, are imprinted in your mind. It haunts all of us, but perhaps no one more than Dr. Banner.

I saw it happen, a young couple, was attempting to run into a department store for cover. Hand in hand they attempted to dodge the flying debris, while avoiding the menacing robotic soldiers that flooded the streets.

Hulk was there, doing his duty smashingly, taking cars, and large chunks of metal, and throwing them at our adversaries, leaving them as nothing more than a pile of wires. The decision had been made to keep Hulk off the field as much as possible, for Bruce’s sake mostly, but also in the hopes of lessening the inevitable damage. There were times, however, when his strength was needed. For those occasions we taught him to avoid civilians, and the effort was made. Oftentimes you could find him gently careening around a group of huddled innocents, stepping between them and whatever destructive chaos we found ourselves faced with. This time however, he made a mistake, and when Hulk makes a mistake, the consequences can be gruesome.

He heaved a car, vaulting it over his head at a group of enemy soldiers, but in the midst of our enemies stood the young couple, and as the car came crashing down, they were crushed. The young woman was left barely alive, screaming for her partner, who could be found a few feet away, his head crushed under the fender. Her outcries of pain and grief echoed through the streets, and over the sounds of metal clanging and weapon blasting, piercing our ears, with guilt and shame.

It wasn’t Bruce’s fault. He had no control over what precautions the Hulk did or didn't take, but despite his genius, that concept was something he couldn’t seem to comprehend. Bruce can see what happens during the time he spends as the other guy, he can see the destruction and death, just as much as any of us can, the only difference is that he can’t choose to run away, to duck for cover, to defend rather than attack. He has no control.

It was getting late, our wounds had been tended to, and we were beginning to settle down for the night. For many of us that didn’t necessarily mean sleep, it meant going onto our prospective floors to process the day's events. I, however, wasn’t planning on heading up to my quarters just yet, I wanted to check in on Bruce. I knew for a fact he hadn’t eaten, and I could also guess the toll that the day’s events must’ve taken on his mental state.

As I stepped out of the sleek silver elevator, I could see Bruce out on his balcony, staring down at the destruction from hours before. It was cold outside, and he still hadn’t changed out of the ripped up clothes he scrounged up from the battlefield. His curls were still dirty and his hands were shaky as they clung to his opposing forearms, squeezing himself tightly. He had been crying, the evidence found in the redness of his eyes and the wetness of his cheeks. I grabbed a blanket that laid haphazardly on a nearby chair, and approached the terrace, food in hand.

“Hey,” I whispered, in an attempt not to startle him.

He jumped, before turning around to see who exactly the voice was coming from. When he saw that it was me, I saw the tension in his body release. “Hey Catherine,” he croaked. He was sitting on a patio sofa, staring out over the mangled concrete, flashing police lights and Stark Industry construction workers, that littered the streets of Manhattan.

I gently sat down next to him, before placing the steaming plate of pasta on the nearby coffee table. I took the blanket, and began to wrap it around his shoulders. He winced at my actions, afraid for me to touch him.

“It’s okay” I whispered, as I slowly placed a hand on his, in an attempt to show that I trusted him. I took the blanket and draped it over his broad shoulders before sitting back down again and turning my body towards his. It broke my heart to know that he was afraid to let me touch him, that he thought of himself to be that dangerous.

“Thank you.” he said, finally looking me in the eye.

I grabbed his hand and gave it a loving squeeze, a nonverbal you’re welcome.

He then turned his gaze back to the streets, his expression immediately hardening, holding within it a plethora of sorrowful emotion.

I looked over and saw that the plate of food had stopped steaming, growing colder from the chilly New York air.

“I brought you some pasta, Clint made it so it might taste like shit.” I joked gesturing the plate and fork towards him.

He smiled briefly at my comment. “You didn’t need to do that,'' he said. Before taking the serving of pasta. “You didn’t need to come all the way up here for that.”

Bruce always had a way of deflecting your kind gestures, of making himself feel like he didn’t deserve them. “You haven’t eaten in hours Bruce and even if you had, I still wanted to come up here and check on you anyway.”

He looked up at me, his brown eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, really thank you.” he said before twisting some pasta onto the fork and bringing it to his mouth.

“And surprisingly it doesn’t taste like shit.” He joked causing me to chuckle.

We both sat and watched the policeman directing traffic as he ate, all within a state of silence. From an outside perspective Bruce wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but when you took the time to get to know him, it wasn’t long before you realized that the man could talk your ear off. When he was passionate or excited about something, he could talk for hours, patiently explaining every particle, and every computation. Watching his face light up when I would ask a question, or when he realized that I was understanding, had become an occurrence I adored. Tonight, however, he didn’t utter a word. Probably in the fear that he may break down in front of me.

He finished up his meal quickly, he must’ve been starving, before placing his empty plate down on the table, and looking back to the street. It was honestly nice to see the city being picked up, to remind ourselves that the damage done can be fixed. There are certain types of destruction, however, that cannot me mended.

Two EMTs approached a pile of rubble. We witnessed their struggling to retrieve something, and to our horror they emerged with the body of a woman. They checked her vitals, and by the looks of dismay, it became apparent to us that she was dead. The emergency workers retrieved a body bag, and gently zipped up her carcass, thus sealing her fate. My heart ached as I thought of her family. That innocent woman could have been a wife, a parent, a child. Now remembered as a life cut short, lost to those they loved forevermore. I felt the pang of guilt press down on my chest, my mind overcome with the thought that that we could’ve somehow prevented the gruesome scene sprawled out before my eyes.

I looked over to Bruce, his eyes wide as he gazed upon the tragic scene that lay before us. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it, I swear he didn’t even blink. He felt as though he deserved to watch this scene, to wallow in the pain that he may have caused.The screams of that young woman probably still echoing in his mind. I reached over and put a hand on his back, before rubbing small circles.

“Bruce let’s go inside okay. We don’t have to watch this” I said softly, as I gently gripped his chin pulling his gaze away from the street below to look at me.

He nodded in agreement, more concerned for my well-being that his. We both stood up and walked back inside to his sitting area, my hand still resting softly on the curvature of his back, as we took our seats on his familiar sofa. I had spent many nights sitting in this same spot, whether that be drinking and laughing with him and Tony, or after a mission in a similar situation as this one, I felt at home here, with Bruce. There were even some mornings where I had accidentally fallen asleep on that very cushion, only to awaken and find myself perfectly tucked in, with the smell of maple pancakes wafting from the kitchen.

After watching what had just happened, Bruce was trying even harder to hold back his emotions. He sat there, his hands shaking as they clasped together, his head hung in shame staring at his feet, his eyes glistening with tears. I scooted closer to him, before wrapping an arm around his feeble frame, my thumb gently rubbing his shoulder. He leaned into my touch, his weight shifting so his body pressed into my side.

“What happened today wasn’t your fault.” I whispered, rubbing my hand up and down his back, in an attempt to bring him back to reality, away from whatever thoughts plagued his mind.

He pulled away, recoiling at the sound of my words that were telling him the exact opposite of what he had been telling himself. “I-I saw it happen, If I had just taken control, if I had just…”, he looked down once more, placing his head in his hands in an act of frustration. He wasn’t angry at me, he was angry at the Hulk for not being more careful, and mostly he was angry at himself. Angry that he couldn’t save them from the giant he was forcibly given the responsibility to manage.

I will never know what it is like to be plagued with something like the Hulk. The risk of danger and violence forever living just under the skin, unable to be fully contained or controlled. I will never know exactly what Bruce suffers through, but in this situation I unfortunately had some expertise.

I sighed, causing Bruce to look up from his sorrowful stance, as I adjusted my sitting position in the effort to make myself more comfortable.

“Ten years ago, I got a call from Fury telling me I was needed in Chicago for a negotiation. Some prick wanted access to SHIELDS weapon blueprints, in exchange for what I was told was “highly classified cargo”. I was instructed to give the contact false intel, it was risky, but nothing I wasn’t used to. “

“I had guessed that this special cargo would have been some sort of weapon, or at the worst maybe a high profile hostage, but when I arrived on location it turned out to be so much worse. These masked bastards had children, I’m talking little kids, lined up execution style. They looked so scared…”

At this point my breaths had become more shaky, causing me to take a moment to gather my senses. Bruce had scooted himself closer in an attempt to comfort me.

“I was so fucking pissed at Fury for not telling me, I just- I wasn’t prepared ya know?”

Bruce nodded and rested his hand on mine as if to let me know that I had his full attention.

“I proceeded with the negotiation, and at first it seemed like it had gone off without a hitch. My partner sweeped the place, and I was told that every child was safe and accounted for. Things, however, went to shit when he insisted the calculations on the blueprints were off. He pointed his gun at me, and without hesitation I blasted him. What I didn't see was the little boy who had been standing behind him.”

My eyes were now filled with tears, and my emotions made it so it was harder to speak.

“I- I killed him. He must’ve been hiding, and they didn’t count him. He was so scared, but there was nothing I could do. I-”

Bruce’s arm had now been gently wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me against his side.

“He was perfectly innocent. So, I guess that makes me a killer.” I whispered.

“No,” Bruce softly uttered. “Catherine, no you’re not-”

I pulled away from his grasp. “I should’ve looked closer, I should’ve double checked I-I”

“Stop, that wasn't your fault.”

I paused for a moment to regain my senses, before turning to look Bruce in the eye.

“Bruce, I killed that little boy, me myself and I. I was in control of my decision making, I did that. So, if that poor boy’s death wasn’t my fault, then how is what happened out there today your’s?”

“Catherine it’s not the same.”

“Your damn right it’s not the same. If anything, I'm at more fault than you are. I, Catherine King, am a killer.”

He looked at me saddened by the words I said, “Don’t associate yourself with that, you’re not that, not you. I’m the monster.”

I took his face in my hands, forcing him to look me directly in the eye. “Why can't you grant yourself the same mercy you’ve given me?” He looked down, at a loss for words.

“Bruce Banner, you are no killer, you are no monster. I know what evil looks like, and you aren’t it. Everyday I go out there and find myself met with the absolute worst shit that the world can offer. So, when I get back, I go see you. I go up to the lab, or come find you here because Bruce, you remind me that there’s still good left. You make me feel safe. I couldn’t feel that way about you if you were a monster.”

At first he sat there in awe, at a loss for words. The last few years of Bruce’s life had been ones of fear, isolation, and self-deprecation. His kind nature and mild-mannered disposition, met with violence, scorn and pain. He didn’t deserve to have gone through all that he did, but he didn’t realize that. His experiences were those fit for the monster that he and the world had so convinced himself he was. So, at the sound of my words, he began to tear up, not because of sadness or fear, but out of gratitude. Ever since the accident no one one had ever told Bruce that they felt safe in his presence. That they didn’t see him as a potential threat, a ticking time bomb.

After a moment, I noticed the look on his face grow soft, as he pulled me into an embrace. His chin resting on my head, as his arms wrapped around me. His hold was gentle, but all encompassing. It was as if he was afraid he’d hurt me if he squeezed too tight, but everything within him was telling him to never let go. I tightly hugged him back, carding my fingers through his hair, as I guided his head to rest in the curvature of my neck, all in the hopes of making him feel the truth behind my words, to make him feel human.

“Thank you.” he whispered.

And in that moment, with the two of us intertwined in the others embrace, we felt safe.

#bruce banner #bruce banner x ofc #bruce banner angst #bruce banner fanfiction #bruce banner needs a hug #SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A HUG #marvel oc #king chronicles

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minghaocouture · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung X Gender Neutral Reader Genre: Modern Magic AU, Fluff Warning: Language WC: 4K+

A/N: @svtxsoju HAPPY HOLIDAYS BINU!!! I know it’s a bit late but here you got <333 I wub you sooooo much and I hope you have a happy new year!! Also this is the last of my simper council holiday gifts so once the new year starts i’ll go back to working on my actual requests!

“That’ll be $24.78” The rather small vile in your hand held no more than 8mm of the shiny silver liquid. It was strange, and almost looked like glittery dish soap if you had no clue what you were looking at. It wasn’t a surprise to you when your customer gasped, shocked at how much such a small amount cost. His open palm slammed down harshly on the counter that separated the two of you.

“That’s ridiculous! Vetra’s shop was selling this for $10!” At his words, you wrapped your fingers around the small vial and pulled it away from him.

“Then go buy it at Vetra’s place, half the price for half the quality.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at the man’s attempt to have you lower your price. “Some of us actually put in the labor to make these potions, and I’ll be damned if I slaved over these vials just for some ass wipe to try and get me to dock my prices. So either buy this for $24, or get out of my shop.”

It might have seemed harsh, but you weren’t one to put up with bullshit. There were quite a few potion shops around town but very few actually made their own stock, many just buying it online and reselling it in a different container. Not you though, you put energy and so much magic into your work and you weren’t going to be haggled. At least not by some low rank vampire trash who thought he was better than everyone.

The male bared his fangs towards you, causing you to roll your eyes. Your free hand subtly reaching down below your register and grabbing a small pure silver dagger, just to prepare for a fight just in case. Vampires were usually the ones who tried to start something, so it was left there as a precaution for yourself and your employees.

The vampire growled, his eyes flickering over to a display of yours and you felt your heart sink. With a speed you could barely see the male had thrust his arm out, knocking the carefully put together display from the counter before he stormed out of the store.

“Get out of my way!” You heard him shout, shoving past a customer who was trying to enter the building.

You called out a small welcome as the door shut but didn’t bother to identify the new customer as you got to cleaning up. It wouldn’t be terrible but it was very annoying and exhausting. Placing your dagger back into its usual position before pulling your wand out of your back pocket.

“Novis Tempus” You muttered, flicking your wand into the direction of the mess now covering the linoleum floor of your shop. You felt the magic slip from your core, travel through your fingertips, down the mahogany of your wand and seeping out from the purples and blue of the fluorite perched at the end of your wand.

Your spell slipped through the air, a small light pink aura circling the mess that had spilled. Slowly it began to change. The liquid from the spilled vials slithered back into the glass, the shattered vials stitching themselves back together, and the wood from the broken standee returning to its rightful positions. It took a few seconds but you always loved watching as it happened, and soon your display was once again perched on the countertop where it had previously been standing.

Despite being a rather seasoned witch, the spell was advanced and took quite a bit of energy which left you rather exhausted. You were pretty grateful that your cover, a younger and much less experienced witch, named Christopher, would be arriving within the hour to take over so you could recoup the spent energy.

“Looks like I missed a party!”

The familiar voice instantly brought a grin to your face, your eyes flickering over to be greeted by the bright shining face of your favorite customer.

“Soonyoung! I thought you weren’t gonna make it in today, you’re later than usual.” You replied, making your way over to where you kept your...commissioned items. It was rare for you to get werewolves in here, most of their species didn’t really try to tone down their transformations, they enjoyed letting out their beast once a month. Not to mention how dangerous, time consuming, and expensive making a wolfsbane potion was, which definitely made them...one of your more pricey items that you would only make if requested, so most werewolves couldn’t afford it even if they wanted to. (though if someone was really desperate and you had the time you’d probably give them the first one for free. You’re not completely heartless.)

The male jutted out his lower lip at his words being ignored, it was kind of ridiculous how adorable he was when he pouted like that. Maybe that was why you poked his buttons like that, or at least the buttons you were aware of. Despite his monthly visits, you hadn’t tried to meet him outside of work before. A shame really.

As you crouched down to the bottom shelf where you kept requests, you heard the male start up. His voice always brought a smile to your face, his mood must just be contagious.

“I uhh missed my train?” Obviously a lie, but you weren’t going to point it out. After all, it wasn’t any of your business; he was just a customer. A very funny and endearing customer but a customer nonetheless.

Pulling out the large circular bottle, complete with a wooden cork shoved into the neck. The light blue liquid swirled in the glass with an almost eerie glow. You doubted that you would ever get used to the aura that the wolfsbane potion gave off. Bottle in hand, you returned to your register where Soonyoung stood with a small almost nervous grin on his face. Placing the bottle down on the marble countertop, you slid it forward with a single finger.

“Well, you better head out then, before you miss your train home.” You joked, watching as the tension seemed to drift away from him. At least he seemed more comfortable now. “Same thing for next month? Doing another early payment?”

You watched Soonyoung grab the fragile bottle and slide it snuggly into the backpack he was carrying (you were honestly surprised it survived the trip home considering how you’d seen the young man run.) As he did so, he pulled out the familiar pale blue wallet that he kept inside.

“As always! You already know my schedule so well!” He said happily, pulling out a bundle of cash and handing it over to you. “It’s on the 25th next month and I can come grab it on the 21st. Is that enough time?”

His question caused you a brief pause, filing through a mental category of your stock. You were almost out of moonstone after the last potion so you’d need to restock and then powder that, but nothing extreme so you confirmed this with a nod and a finalization of his payment.

“Well, I’ll see you next month then!” Considering this had been your routine for the past few months, you expected a small farewell before the bleach blond bounded from the store. So you pulled out your inventory book and began writing notes about his potion. Today was different though, as he lingered. You could feel his piercing eyes on you for a moment, just watching before he spoke up once more.

“I was...actually wondering if you were free anytime today?” You froze, your pen hovering over the parchment as your brain processed what had just been asked of you. Weighing the pros and cons of being honest with him, on one hand he was kind and you had just been thinking about what it would be like to actually befriend the male but on the other hand, this could have been a long game plan if he was some crazy killer. It was unfortunately, but you had to think of things like that, especially with the recent surge of missing persons cases.

“No pressure! I know it’s super weird and suspicious that I’m asking buuut, you’re pretty cool and I’d actually like to get to know you! Not to be a creep, but like as a friend.”

It was sweet, and the smile on his face was definitely inviting enough. So against your better judgement, you let out a small sigh.

“I get off at 5, think you can wait til then?”

If his neutral face was bright, then his cheerful one was blinding. His grin stretched from ear to ear and you watched as he pumped a fist into the air out of excitement. It was honestly really sweet and made your heart flutter that he was that excited to spend time with you outside of work.

“Yeah! I’ll hang around the district and come back when you’re off!” With that the male literally bounded out of your shop. As the door slammed shut behind him, silence surrounded you and couldn’t stop the joyful laughter from spilling from your lips.

You helped out a few more customers before Chris arrived, but once he did you quickly got to work on preparing to leave. Doing things like going over inventory, and rearranging some things that customers had decided to touch, with just a bit more pep in your step than usual. Which Chris definitely noticed.

“Someone’s in a hurry. Usually I have to push you out the door, just so you’ll go home and rest.” You had known Chris for a few years and he of course had seen right through you. Because of this you saw no reason to defend yourself.

“Yeah, you know that Werewolf regular?”

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah, him. Well, he asked if I wanted to hang out after work,” You explained, trying to keep casual about the whole ordeal despite how excited you were. Finalizing your inventory check, you slid your work book back under the counter and when you stood up once more, Chris was smirking in your direction, rather smugly in fact. “What?”

“I was wondering when this was going to happen. He’s always making eyes at you whenever he comes in. It’s right cute.” He teased, and you were grateful that no one else was in the store to hear this. Feeling a heat rush to your face, you rolled your eyes at the male.

“Come off it Chris, He does not.”

“He does! He’s always like this!” He exclaimed, before quickly adjusting his position to show an example. Leaning one elbow on the counter he placed his cheek in his palm and just began staring at you with a sweetly intent look. You hated to admit it, but you had caught Soonyoung staring like that...once or twice, but you weren’t going to tell Chris that.

“Maybe you need to go get those eyes checked out, cause you’re seeing things.” You declared, slipping past him into the break room that was hidden past the door behind the counter. You almost cheered in relief as you heard the familiar bell ring through the store, signaling a new customer entering. Which meant that Chris wouldn’t be able to follow after you and the embarrassment would be over.

That was...not the case when you heard Chris’ cheerful voice greet the customer.

“Soonyoung! Nice to see ya! It’s been a while, you usually come in when I’m off.”

You mind blanked and you quickly got all of your belongings together, shoving your phone in your pocket before rushing out of the break room. Only to find Soonyoung and Chris laughing cheerfully as they spoke to one another. You almost let out a physical sigh of relief when you realized it was just a regular conversation and Chris hadn’t strayed the topic over to you.

When Soonyoung saw you though, his eyes lit up like it was some sort of holiday even though he had just seen you about an hour ago. Honestly, nothing had probably even changed about your appearance since then and yet he still looked at you like you...radiant.

“See ya later Chris, you have my number if anything happens. Don’t burn down the store!” The male in question quickly formed a mock salute that was almost as serious as a real one, if it weren’t for the intent purpose of making fun of you.

“Aye aye, Parental unit!”

Rolling your eyes, you gestured for Soonyoung to follow you and soon the two of you were gone. Off on an adventure that would be the first spark in a well lit fire.

***

When you left with Soonyoung, you were expecting the typical things that a guy does when he takes people out. What you got was...much different.

He started off by taking you to get a bite to eat, you were pretty hungry after your shift and so you were pretty grateful for that. The place was pretty small, a little mom and pop shop run by some friends of his named Seungkwan and Seokmin. If you thought Soonyoung was funny, then him with his two friends was absolutely hysterical, especially when he would tell stories of their adventures and imitate his two friends. (Seungkwan was not happy about that later part).

That’s when things took a turn.

Instead of a typical, let’s go see a movie, Soonyoung suggested a nearby gym area. Now it wasn’t really a ‘gym’, it was more of an entertainment location. It had things like rock climbings, a large number of trampolines, and even some feats of courage where you would try to jump from a singular platform to a large punching bag looking object while you were at least 20 feet off the ground (or at least that’s what it felt like once you were up there).

Which is currently where you were, harness strapped snuggly around you and a helmet placed firmly on your head. Eyes staring out at the large gap between you and your target, your hands pressing firmly against the cold metal of the pillar that you had just climbed up.

“Going to be completely honest, Soonie! I don’t think I got this!” You called out to the male who stood below with the service tech. He was suited up quite similarly as he was preparing to go right after you, but had dared you to try it first since you’d never been here before.

“I thought you were a witch, don’t witches fly?” He called back, confusion lacing his voice. It did provide a small laugh from you.

“Flying on a broomstick, and jumping crazy distances are two completely different things! I really don’t think I can do this!”

“Yes you can! Just scream Horanghae, it can take away all your fears!” He shouted back, earring him a rather confused look from you.

“Horanghae??”

“Horanghaaaaaae!” His voice almost tripled in volume as he confirmed the rather strange phrase, you probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he were like...a were-tiger, but he wasn’t. He was just full of surprises.

Taking a deep breath you heard him chant the phrase as you steeled yourself. With one last intake, you leaped forward with a loud scream of, what seemed to be, his favorite word. To your surprise, the distance was quite small once you were in the air and you latched onto the tube like a koala. Your was heavy and your heart was throbbing, but hearing Soonyoung go absolutely crazy below in excitement made it all worth it.

The two of you didn’t stay too much longer after that, going out into the now dark city. You hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten until you exited the building and were on your way to what Soonyoung was referring to as the ‘last bit’.

Now here you were, laying on your back in the middle of a park and staring up at the stars. Soonyoung was going on and on about the stars and these different constellations that his friend Wonwoo had shown him. It was...sweet, but you were only partially listening. You were conflicted, you really really liked him but...he was a customer. Wouldn’t it be weird to be crushing on a customer? Wouldn’t it?

“And that one is my favorite because it looks like a tiger! Isn’t it cool?”

Your eyes drifted over to him as he stared up at the night sky with those bright cheerful eyes that seemed to envelop your whole being with joy. His pale blonde hair gently brushed against his forehead with every small gust of wind. The light in his brown eyes was enchanting to see, and his smile...well it was radiant.

“Yeah...it’s beautiful.”

But you weren’t talking about the stars.

***

“And every time he’s around my heart is racing and It’s like all I can think about is him! Do you know how hard it is to help other customers when he comes into the store? It’s impossible.” It hadn’t been your intent to rant to Chris about Soonyoung, yet here you were. He had just asked if you were hanging out with the wolfman today and that sparked a 20 minute long tangent about the last 6 months that you had been spending with Soonyoung outside of work.

“You’re in love with him?”

“Chris you can’t just say the L word out loud!” You exclaimed, slapping a hand over Christopher’s mouth as if his words would call the male into the store. Chris rolled his eyes and peeled your hand off of his face before taking a grip on your shoulders.

“Just confess to him, it’s not like he doesn’t feel the same way. I swear you could dump boiling hot soup on his lap and he would thank you just because it’s you.” Chris declared, which was absolutely ridiculous. No one would thank someone for pouring soup on them, that was a dumb analogy.

You shrugged off his hands, and propped yourself up on the countertop since there were no customers in the store. Crossing your arms over your chest and letting out a frustrated groan as your gaze lifted to the ceiling.

“He’s still a customer, wouldn’t that be weird.” Out of the corner of your eye you could see Chris fixing you with a rather confused look. So you continued. “I mean, like what if he doesn’t like me and then it’s super awkward and he feels uncomfortable coming back into the shop? Not only would I just get to deal with a broken heart, but he could also like report us? Right? For like, being inappropriate?”

Chris snorted in disbelief at your ridiculous statement, so you turned your gaze to him and shot a glare in his direction.

“He wouldn’t report you, dumbo. I’m telling you, just go for it. You might be pleasantly surprised with his response.”

Before you could retort, claiming that Chris was being way too optimistic for his own good, the doorbell rang and the two of you turned to greet the new customer.

“Soonyoung! What a surprise, we were just talking about you!” Your heart sunk at Chris’ words, and you shot him a dirty look, jamming your elbow harshly into his side. Which caused him to let out a loud yelp as you greeted Soonyoung.

The male in question didn’t seem to notice anything was odd, and just beamed at the two of you as he sauntered up to the counter. The weight in your back pocket felt heavy as you watched him. It was a few days before his birthday and the two of you decided to hang out together since you wouldn’t be able to take the whole day off for his party (yes you were the boss, but it was just you and Chris and you weren’t gonna leave the poor guy alone all damn day. You weren’t heartless). He greeted Chris with a grin before turning his attention solely to you.

“Ready to head out?”

“Almost I’ve still got to fin-”

“Yup, they’re totally ready!” Chris exclaimed, shoving you towards the gap in the counter as he cut you off. “I’ve got everything under control here! Have fun kids!” Honestly it felt like he was your parent sending you off on your first date which made this all the more embarrassing.

Soonyoung seemed to notice the conflicting words and a bright laugh left his lips, his eyes slipping shut as his smile grew with his laughter. It only took a moment for him to recover and then extend his hand towards you, and without even thinking about it you took the offered hand. You could practically feel Chris’s eyes boring into your skull, the smug look on his face saying ‘i told you so’, as the two of you left the store.

You lead Soonyoung by the hand over to your car and he quickly climbed into the passenger side of the car. You followed much slower, pulling his gift out of your pocket before sliding into the drivers seat.

Not bothering to turn the car on yet, you turned to face him. The small black box held tightly in your hands, as if it were the only thing keeping you cemented in the moment. You almost wished you had taken one of those courage potions you sold, maybe you’d be less anxious right now, but you wanted this moment to be true to your feelings and the potion would have just muddled that up. Giving you a false sense of strength when you needed to find it on your own this time.

“Happy Birthday Soonie.” You flashed him a small smile, passing over the tiny box. He gasped and took it from you quickly, pulling open the lid to reveal a necklace. The cord was made of leather, which would be smoother to wear than a metal chain, and a gem at the center. A piece of Tiger’s eye with a shiny golden wire wrapped intricate around the stone which kept it in place.

“It’s not much but that’s a Tiger’s eye. It wards off negative energy, dispels fears, and helps bring good luck. I mean, it had more uses than that, those are just some of them. I figured it’d be good for you since you said you were worried about starting that new job, and it’s also a tiger’s eye and I know you really like tigers, and i like you so obviously i remembered that about you. “ You continued to ramble on as Soonyoung pulled the necklace out of the box and stared at it as if you had just gifted him the most priceless gem in the world. Your heart ached as you watched him slip the cord over his neck and turn to face you. Your heart sputtered as his eyes met yours and you felt yourself practically melt in your seat when he took your hand once more.

“Was that a confession I heard? You really like me? Like...like like me?” All at once you realized what you had done, Chris would never let you hear the end of this. It was probably the worst confession in the history of confessions.

You tore your gaze away, your eyes firmly planting on the sight of his hand gripping yours.

“I mean, yeah what’s not to like. You’re hilarious, sweet, and honestly really hot too. It’s almost ridiculous how perfect you are, and I jus-” You felt your words trail off as his free hand reached out and cupped your cheek, forcing you to look up at him once again. You almost completely combusted at the sight of his watching you as if you had hung the stars just for him.

“Would it be cheesy to say that cast a love spell on me.”

“Love spells are highly illegal.”

“Just let me be cheesy!” He pouted, but his eyes never lost that loving spark. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours and you felt like time had completely come to a stand still. You knew what you wanted, and from what he said you were hopeful that he wanted the same thing.

“Soonyoung, will you...kiss me?” As soon as the question left your lips, he had taken them with his own. It was like something clicked into place as he kissed you, his lips pressing firmly against your own as his hand slid to gently grip the back of your neck. Everything was perfect, he was perfect.

When the moment passed, he pulled away and let out a laugh.

“Best. Birthday. Gift. Ever.”

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #kdiarynet #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt scenario #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung imagine #soonyoung scenario #hoshi x reader #hoshi imagine #hoshi scenario

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Attached: Words Lost in Translation Pt.1

Type: (mini)-series, Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 4200

Summary: There’s a new guy in your history class – a foreign student from Milan, Italy. Handsome, nice enough, pretty smart, actually.

But dammit, you should have known that a guy complimenting the way you say his name will be trouble – Bucky certainly thinks so from the start… and he’s not wrong. Oh boy.

A/N: Attached: Words Lost in Translation is a 3-part addition to the Attached series.

A/N: Many thanks to my lord and saviour @chase-your-dreams-away for her help with Italian bits which you’ll find in the fic :-* Seriously, big shout-out for her, she was awesome! Vocabulary at the end if you’re interested.

And many thanks to @wxstedhexrt for sending me the link and putting the plot bunny into my head in the first place :-*

Warnings: smug insistent jerk, harassment(?), swearing, one remark about LBGT+ that could feel insensitive

Story masterlist

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“Uhm… hi. Can I sit here? And uh—this is kinda ridiculous, but could I borrow a pen?”

A very much handsome young man was standing by your seat in the second row, week two of your first semester of master’s at uni, deep brown eyes, naturally tanned skin, relatively tall, his smile a fraction shy but honest.

What else could you have done that what you did?

Even if he wasn’t a relatively cute guy – mind you, you were dating Steve, very happily needless to say – you had no reason to be a bitch to a guy with slight accent you weren’t sure where to place, to a guy who was apparently a tiny bit lost on his first day at Bucky’s class.

“Yeah, sure. Seat all yours,” you smiled encouragingly, sliding him an extra pen on surface of the desk.

His smile widened brilliantly, exposing a set of perfectly narrow and white teeth. A twinkle appeared in his eye and you caught your heart skipping a beat.

Oh. Ah-oh.

“Thank you so much. Something tells me that the prof wouldn’t appreciate me missing the first class of his and not taking notes on the second,” your mystery student grimaced and you chuckled, unable to help yourself.

First of all, yeah, kinda on point.

Second of all, not on point at all, because the said prof was Professor James Barnes. Bucky had a relatively benevolent policy when it came to his classes – yes, he appreciated when his students were paying attention, interacting even, but as long as you weren’t an ass or weren’t making noise (or both), you were fine.

You said so to your new classmate and he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Good to know… but you know what would be even better?” he asked, cocking his head to side curiously – or teasingly, it was hard to tell.

“Oh, what? I guess you need the syllabus too, right? I can-“

A low chuckle erupted from his throat, his eyes glimmering with amusement as his gaze gave you a not-exactly-subtle once-over you weren’t sure how you felt about.

Except you knew exactly how you felt about it, you just knew you shouldn’t feel that way.

“That would probably come in handy too, but I’d rather know the name of my lovely saviour with a pretty smile.”

You found yourself lowering your gaze, heat rising to your cheeks.

Here was a thing – this was most flirting you got in like a year. You adored Steve, you truly did, from the bottom of your heart, he was a dream come true… however, the fact that you two were dating was clear to everyone.

And by everyone, you really meant everyone; considering the scene at your bachelor graduation and the mess around, it appeared that the whole damn city accepted the fact that you were Steve’s and thus no one even considered stepping on his toes.

Which was alright, absolutely, but… girl’s got needs, her ego craves a boost from time to time, even if it’s an appreciative glance from a stranger. Just a teeny-tiny bit of flirting.

No one ever flirted with you anymore.

It was why it was way too easy to fall into the sweet trap as you introduced yourself, lifting you gaze only to see your companion wearing a lop-sided smile. He most definitely liked what he saw.

“Sweet name for a sweet girl. I’m Daniel. I’m here for two semesters. And before you ask, it’s Milano, Italy,” he added quickly with a flash of his teeth again, holding out his hand – and upon having it accepted, he most certainly held it too long and swept his thumb over the back of your hand.

Which was the point when your head started yelling at you to stop this in an instant and draw a line. Yes, it felt amazing to be complimented to, but you had a boyfriend – a fucking dreamy one, no less – and you sure as hell didn’t want to give Daniel (how was his name pronounced again?) the wrong impression.

You retreated your hand with your smile turning tight-lipped, a cold pang of guilt stabbing you in your gut. Served you right.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel,” you said politely, and his expression shifted into one just a fraction patronizing.

“Da-ni-el. Kinda soft ‘i’. Daniel. You’ll get a hang of it, I’m sure. Once more, please?”

Well, since he said please. “Da-ni-el,” you repeated more from a common curtesy, because honestly, the least you could do was to try to pronounce a name right for a handsome classmate.

Shush it, it doesn’t matter if he’s handsome or not!

Daniel smiled widely, turning his palms up and gesturing towards you. “Perfetto. Amazing. You’re a natural.”

Before you could say thanks, Bucky entered the class and you felt the stab in your insides intensify as his eyes found you unmistakably, as if he had witnessed our interaction with the Italian and was telling you he’d rat you out to Steve if you didn’t stop right now.

Ridiculous – there was nothing to talk about. You were just being nice to the friendly stranger who happened to be in your class and whom you’d be meeting for at least a semester. That was all.

Except you still felt your heart pounding furiously, equally because of the feeling of getting caught doing something wrong and because of enjoying the attention. Fuck.

Okay, fine. You’d tell Steve about this guy on your own as a precaution. It would at least remind you to keep yourself in check, because honestly, you had no desire to get tangled up in some mess. You had no desire to taint the beautiful thing you had with Steve with anything at all, less so for a fling.

Content with yourself, you forced yourself to listen to Bucky’s lecture, taking notes like you were supposed to, determined to ignore Daniel’s presence.

Except Daniel interrupted him twice with questions and remarks about accuracy, drawing attention of the whole class to him and you felt hot in your face for a whole different reason than before – simply hating that someone sitting next to you was, frankly, quickly getting annoying.

And God, you had no idea how much.

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Daniel Gallo was a relatively nice guy –social perhaps a little too much, but cute and open, easy to be friends with.

However, he had one fatal flaw, one you discovered very early on; he was the smuggest asshole you had ever met.

Perhaps it was his need to correct Bucky all the time – mostly failing, because Bucky knew his shit, he was just sparing you the tinniest details, leaving them for you to find in text books.

Maybe it was the fact that Daniel hadn’t given you the pen back, not even asking if he could keep it for the day, which you’d understand despite being protective of your pens; except he carried it around for two weeks, using it in front of you, returning it only upon your curious and slightly sarcastic comment about it.

Most definitely though, it was the fact that he was unbearably insistent on flirting with you – shamelessly – even after you grew so uncomfortable that you blatantly told him you had a boyfriend. He smirked, but backed off for the day, only to continue his advances the next week.

And then Jill, a girl from your year and a sort-of-friend, actually told you that he mentioned you in front of her, saying that you were two growing rather close, if she knew what he meant, and she admitted that she snorted into her latté when hearing it.

“What? What is it?” he had asked.

“I sincerely doubt that,” she claimed she had said, causing him to frown.

“Why? She gay? I don’t think so, I can tell this kind of stuff.”

“No. She’s taken. Very happily, I might add. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Nah. We’ll see about that,” he had replied supposedly and learning that felt like a punch to your stomach, causing you to see red.

You showed him ignorance incarnate the next week, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

And then even Bucky noticed and kept casting dirty glares at you both as if you had done the worst crime.

To be honest, after that you did feel dirty; but you didn’t want to make a fuss.

In fact, you hadn’t even told Steve about Daniel besides informing him about the existence of a foreign student in your class.

Partly, shame was to blamed, because you kept wondering if you had done enough; perhaps you should have been more radical, sterner with Daniel to make him stop.

The other part of the reason was that Steve was under tons of pressure because of his academic duties; all professors had to publish an article in a prestige journals dedicated to their area of expertise at least once in two years – university policy – and working on that while teaching several classes was simply taking its toll on him. You really didn’t want to add to his stress.

It wasn’t even a big deal – Daniel was overly social and he probably said shit like the stuff you learned from Jill about other girls too. What was the golden rule? When there’s nothing broken, don’t fix it.

There was nothing. No problem at all.

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Except there was.

That morning, you were zoned out, because Steve snapped at you for not doing the dishes and didn’t bother to apologize till you left the apartment in a foul mood. Then he went to shower you with texts full of apologies, gradually growing into pure cutesy (involving a picture of his puppy eyes) and gifs and stuff and you ended up spending the majority of Bucky’s lecture on your phone.

By Bucky’s policy, that was perfectly okay, because he couldn’t care less if you were smiling like a loon into your phone – hell, if he noticed, he was probably glad, knowing shit had rained down and was now being fixed.

At the end of the class, Daniel graciously offered you his neat notes – and really, they looked amazing –, surprising you rather pleasantly.

“Oh… that’s… that’s very kind of you,” you stuttered, almost rendered speechless. Perhaps you truly were just making a big deal of things, seeing something that wasn’t-

“Anything for my principessa.“

The cloud that had been following you since you left the apartment made its comeback in a second, so fast that you actually felt your stomach drop to your feet.

Oh no, you were not imagining things – after all, Daniel even had a term of fucking endearment for you. And you might not be speaking Italian, but you understood that just fine.

“Perhaps one day she’ll repay me with a dinner date,” he continued with a supposedly charming smile, one you found disgusting at the moment.

You opened your mouth and swiftly closed it when no sound came out, scoffing at your naivety. Of course he wouldn’t give them for free, jackass. You shook your head with a wry smile and packed your untouched pencil case and papers, rising to your feet without another word.

A hand on your wrist stopped you from spinning on your heel and walking away.

“Aspetta, aspetta-” an all-to-familiar voice now whispered as you grinded your teeth and glared at the point of contact, skin on skin. He squeezed your wrist almost gently before letting go. “Wait. Here. Just… take a picture, okay? Where would we be if weren’t nice from time to time…”

You really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction… but you could really use his notes too.

Dammit shit.

“Thank you,” you uttered, obediently taking a photo of the three pages of ridiculously perfect notes. Then, you met his gaze, face torn between stern and grateful. “Just… a reminder: I have a boyfriend.”

Slow smile spread on his lips and in that moment, you wanted to punch him in those perfect teeth of his. “Doesn’t stand in the way of admiring your beauty, does it, la mia ragazza…”

You had no clue what he said, but the la mia hinted you that he called you something his and that sent a surge of white-hot anger through your veins, mixing with humiliation. Your hand actually curled up in a fist, twitching – but instead of giving your piling anger an outlet, you took a deep breath, huffed and stalked away without a word of goodbye.

“See you next week!” Daniel called after you and you gripped the strap of your backpack tighter, squeezing your eyes shut.

That night, you got next to zero sleep, watching Steve’s passed-out form with tears in your eyes.

It was ridiculous, it was nothing and you were doing nothing wrong-- but you couldn’t make yourself to cuddle to Steve’s side despite desperately needing his wordless affirmation that everything was alright.

Just a simple embrace of his was like a promise of a brighter future. With him.

Chuckling wryly into your palm, you wiped at your tears and snuggled to Steve, causing him to stir and hum, his arm circling around you on instinct, a barely-there sloppy kiss to your hair chasing more tears into your eyes along with a watery smile gracing your lips.

Yeah. Everything was going to be fine.

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Nothing was fine.

Daniel was getting handsy if you could call it that. His thigh brushed yours multiple times the next class as he was sitting uncomfortably close and no amount of subtle pushing away (of you and your chair) was helping, so no, there could have been nothing coincidental about that.

You dug your nails into your palm and bit your cheek, but survived the lesson somehow.

Bucky called for you at the end of the class, saving you further interaction with that Italian Satan, allowing you to breathe freely until he addressed the very problem your head was occupied with.

Bucky didn’t like Daniel’s attitude to begin with – which wasn’t surprising, seeing as he was being a prick – but he liked the fact Daniel seemed to be awfully close to you even less if his tone was anything to go by and his eyes screamed accusations and you fucking hated yourself, feeling the tell-tale of incoming tears burning in your eyes.

“I can talk to him, you know. Tell him to back off,” he offered then though, the grey with blue threads of his irises warming when he noticed your state.

The pressure in your gut eased upon learning Steve’s best friend didn’t only blame you and apparently wanted to help rather than presenting you with ‘you made your bed you lie in it’ attitude.

You even charmed a small smile for him, determined to do justice to your word: “Thank you… it’s fine. I’ll deal with him. I can handle one guy who doesn’t take no for an answer.”

And sure you could.

Daniel hugged you goodbye the next class, saying he was planning a get-away with his new friends for a weekend and it might be dangerous – fucking absurd.

With your heart in your throat, you quickly patted his back and twisted from his arms, feeling dirty.

“No kiss for good luck?” he teased, that annoying smug smile on his face and you had to remind yourself that punching him was a terrible idea seeing as you were already walking a fine line dating a professor – who happened to be the best friend of one of your professors.

You didn’t need any problems – and for some reason, you were certain Daniel would make a big fucking deal of it. So no punching it was.

Your resolve crumbled to nothing when a sudden kiss landed on your cheek, the sensation cold like a kiss of the death itself.

Before you could as much as catch your breath which got knocked out of your lungs and not in the good way, your blood pressure skyrocketing along with your pulse to a point where your head began spinning… he was gone.

You gulped, eyes fluttering shut as the world seemed to sway from its place and you nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand grasped your arm.

“Daniel, go fuck yourself-“ you snapped and glared at him- only to meet Bucky’s angry and very much concerned gaze.

“Too bad you didn’t say that about thirty seconds ago. You alright?” the brunet asked you, grip firm yet gentle as he steadied your shaky stance.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, a little strangled noise. “And I am gonna tell him exactly this the next time I see him.”

“Not good enough for me. You’re not stupid, I know you’re not. But I’m not either,” he remarked, expression gravel. His tone hardened, unlike his eyes that studied you thoroughly, examining your face as if searching for something. “You think I didn’t notice the change of your wardrobe?”

An icy-cold shiver ran an up your spine, causing all your muscles to stiffen.

Fuck. He noticed.

You supposed it wasn’t too hard to see and it was only natural that he kept an eye on you as on his best friend’s girlfriend. Yes, your Tuesday’s outfits suddenly somehow lacked skirts and anything with a deeper neckline than a turtle-neck, simply in hopes to turn Daniel off or at least not to pluck up his interest further; an action that had taken zero effect.

But being called out like this? That stung. It hurt your pride and it hurt by its very nature, because it reminded you how pathetic you were, unable to get rid of a jerk who didn’t take no for an answer – in a public space, with witnesses for god’s sake. It made you feel weak and incompetent.

So you looked Professor Barnes dead in the eye, your lips a thin line, your voice cold as you spoke the only words that made sense at that time:

“I—I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

So what if you stuttered? So what if his brows furrowed with what was a damn patronizing worry? You didn’t care as you gathered your stuff without another word exchanged.

You made a mental note to wear your favourite outfit the next week, forgoing pants and turtle-necks, because you could fucking take care of yourself.

Penny encouraged you, clearly having faith in you too, but she also gently reminded you that you could report him.

As if. Brining more attention to your person was the last thing you needed.

You could do this on your own, thank you very much.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

For all your bravado, you asked a girl you barely knew by name if you could sit next to her and nearly cried when she said yes and another girl seated herself to your other side within two minutes. You even smiled for yourself contentedly, seeing a dawn of a new age.

And then Daniel fucking Gallo walked in and charmed his way to the seat next to you anyway, somehow managing to scare off your original saviour as well.

Well, too bad for him; you had your confidence back along with your outfit that suited you much better and you were going to tell that jerk to fuck off, just like you promised to Bucky and yourself.

“You thought I wasn’t coming today, la mia bella ragazza? I couldn’t bear not seeing you…” he started off again and you eyed him head to toe, causing a smile spread on his face. You had found that smile cute once, the kind of smile you would let a person get away with murder for.

Now it was making you want to commit murder.

“I was hoping actually.”

“Oh, sassy today, are we? What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? He had the audacity to-

You can’t punch him, you can’t punch him, think of the bureaucracy and your future…

What about my satisfaction?

Zip it!

You took a deep breath and watched that asshole take a seat next to you, automatically shuffling his chair closer.

“Daniel, look-“

“Zitta, zitta…” he interrupted you softly, but the manner he spoke with only pissed you off further. Fuck Italian.

“I don’t know what that means and frankly, I don’t care. I’m taken. I said so, several times. So back off,” you hissed, watching your volume despite the prof not being in yet – you didn’t need a scene. You were disgustingly certain Daniel had brought enough attention to you already – in fact, you were shocked Steve hadn’t learned about this yahoo yet with how quickly gossip spread on this university.

And that Bucky hadn’t told him-- God, you hoped Bucky wasn’t saving it for today’s boys night-

To your utter shock and annoyance, Daniel didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, smiling widely as if amused at your antics. “Am I putting doubts in that bella testolina of yours?”

Your blood boiled at such implication… and maybe there was a thin flow of steam coming from your ears too? Because you couldn’t fucking believe this guy, implying such thing-

--okay, you weren’t sure what exactly he said, honestly, but you understood just enough. No doubts. You were perfectly sure he was an asshole you wanted to have nothing to do with.

“No! No way! Jesus- okay. Let’s be clear. Was... this,” you gestured between the two of you in self-explanatory manner, “flattering at first? Yes. But seriously, now you’re just making me uncomfortable.”

As if appealing to his conscience would work…

“Then give in. Just one little dinner,” he insisted, showing a small space between his thumb and forefinger, grinning as if he hadn’t been listening to you at all. “What could it hurt? Who knows, maybe I’ll show you a real good time and you’ll forget all about some boring boyfriend of yours… who I’m not sure he exists actually-“

You inhaled sharply, wheezing in fact, heat of righteous anger flooding your whole body. That fucker-!

“Oh for fuck’s sake-“

You can’t punch him. You. Can. Not. Punch. Him.

You repeated those words to yourself like a magical mantra that was losing its effect, because there was nothing you wanted more. Maybe except for Steve punching him, that would be quite a show… but it was not an option.

For one, Steve, thank heavens, still didn’t know about Daniel’s unwanted advances and for two, chances were that he would show a little less restraint and you wouldn’t blame him one bit. But it would bring a whole new set of trouble, so you had to deal with this alien of a man on your own.

And right now, staring into that stupidly smug face of his, you only saw one possible solution.

“Okay, fine.”

You almost slapped your hand over your mouth as soon as the words left your lips, numbing horror overwhelming your body.

What the fuck did you just do?!

“Yes!” Daniel whisper-yelled, pumping his fist and you noticed that the class was gradually falling silent, probably with Bucky’s approach – but there was still enough chatter going on for you to save the situation somehow.

“-but you have to earn it,” you added in an equally hushed tone.

He cocked his eyebrow, as if smelling your fear that arrived instantly after the rash decision he provoked from you. “I won’t back out from a challenge, bellezza.”

Yeah, I friggin’ bet.

Your mind was racing hundred miles an hour, choosing to ignore the whatever-it-meant petname in favour of the crisis at hand.

“How about… you ask the professor a question-“ Oh Bucky was going to have your head on a stick for that, but hey, he had offered to help you- “-and if he answers wrong, I’ll go to one dinner with you, tonight.”

…that would be alright, right? Just to get rid of him. One dinner so he would get the clue at last. You’d be a hateful bitch, possibly embarrassing him, doing just about anything for him to finally stop making your life a living hell.

Yeah, looking back at the product of your frantic brain, it had been an excellent thinking actually. Go impulsive me!

Hell, tonight was perfect for it, with Steve having a night off with Bucky and you originally planning on studying with Penny. You would tell Steve after, explaining everything—or maybe before? Bucky was your witness that you weren’t exactly an enthusiastic participant in this, surely he would help you explain and would be able to distract Steve-

But really, that was all theoretical, because Daniel would have to catch Bucky off guard first, which was very unlikely. Bucky knew his subject through and through and Daniel’s chances were extremely low anyway.

“Easy-peasy,” Daniel grinned confidently, making you internally roll your eyes at his overconfident ass.

Or perhaps you had let your annoyance show for real? You couldn’t tell anymore, the adrenaline rush in your veins making certain things too sharp and other dull. For instance, you registered Daniel’s eyes flickering towards the teacher’s stand, his already wide smile growing enough to nearly tear his mouth.

“Even easier when we have a substitute.”

“What,” you blurted out, head snapping to the professor at the front.

A flash of blond hair and a shade darker beard. Broad shoulders. Blue eyes of which you simply knew they had a glint of green in them.

Your heart positively stopped in your chest, your lips parting in mute horror.

“Oh shit.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Vocabulary: Perfetto - perfect Principessa – princess Aspetta – wait La mia (bella) ragazza – my (pretty) girl Zitta – shh Bella testolina – pretty head

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Part 2

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Eh, I swear the first idea was giving off less of a harassment vibe. But it gets better, I promise ;)

I apologize to Italians if you find this offensive, but it was in fact not my intention at all for Daniel to be a representation of a whole nation. I figured there are insistent jerks all over the globe. (And I happened to have an Italian real-life template, not gonna lie.)

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loruleanheart · 3 years

Text

Desired Fate, Chapter 15

Read on FF.net

Read on Ao3

King Rhoam had to collect himself, letting out a huff of defeat, grappling with whom he should be most angry. The thought occurred to him that he was partially to blame. What if his stern treatment of Zelda had stunted her ability to unlock her power, or worse... had chased her into the arms of that man? He feared it was true, but he couldn't let it show. This was one of the worst possible outcomes coupled with one he never would have imagined. It was a lot to take in, but he felt - no knew - that as King his immediate concern was the Calamity. Finding a fitting punishment for that man would have to be considered later - if there was a later, which was unlikely without Zelda's fully realized power. But Rhoam knew if he had the chance he would be willing to break her heart one final time if it meant that man was dealt with appropriately. In time, she would move on and she would thank him someday.

Rhoam surveyed the Champion's shaken expressions. The wind silently sent the tall grass rippling, giving an unsettled atmosphere in the wake of what had been witnessed. Rhoam turned his back to them, focusing on the beast that was encircling Hyrule castle. There was a long pause before he spoke. "Champions, it is time to take to your Divine Beasts. Although we may lack the means to seal Ganon away, we must continue to defend Hyrule until the very end."

Impa took in the expressions of the Champions and spoke. "Wait, Your Majesty. If I may… Astor gave a warning regarding the Divine Beasts, and considering that Ganon has already taken control of the Guardians I think we should listen. We must be prepared for anything Ganon may throw at us."

Rhoam turned. "Are you seriously suggesting we listen to the ramblings of that insane man calling himself a prophet?"

"But, Your Majesty… What other choice do we have?"

"Not a chance! I'm not going to hearken to anything that man has to say. By the goddesses, he's going to need someone holier than Hylia when I find him!"

The Sheikah woman shifted uncomfortably but stood her ground. "But, Your Majesty..." This time, Rhoam could detect the tiniest hint of disapproval in her voice, perhaps even veiled disgust, a tone that believed he should be begging Zelda's forgiveness for humiliating her and treating that prophet with such disrespect since it was so painfully obvious Zelda cared about him for some reason Rhoam couldn't comprehend. "What about Princess Zelda? I'm worried for her."

"You think I'm not?" Rhoam said, irritated.

"We can't be so quick to give up on her, nor can we discount the effort she has put in. If we take extra precautions we can still use the Divine Beasts to locate her. I choose to remain optimistic and believe she will access her power very soon."

Rhoam was at a loss. Impa was too much like a friend to Zelda, not the advisor he had appointed her to be. He was baffled at how she did not at all seem angered by Zelda's shameful display and complete abandonment of her duty. Rhoam was about to rebuke the Sheikah woman when the four champions and Link gave a nod of agreement at Impa's words. The King stood silently as the group began to devise a plan to oppose the blights, should they appear.

oOo

Zelda opened her eyes and looked around, assessing the place Astor had taken them. It appeared to be an area of the Lost Woods she was unfamiliar with. Yet there was something distinctly different about this place from those dreary woods. There was an abundant amount of Silent Princess flowers everywhere, more than Zelda had ever seen in one place. She knew immediately that there was something otherworldly about this place.

"No one will bother us here," Astor said calmly. Zelda could tell he was growing more accustomed to her touch. He was not as eager to let go of her as he had before. The shoulder of his robe was damp from her tears. The prophet took notice but mercifully said nothing.

"Where are we? It looks a bit like the Lost Woods, but… It's just so beautiful." She looked up, seeing stars dimly giving their light through the canopy of the trees. Was it always night here? A beautiful, illusionary realm where time remained still?

Astor gave Zelda's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "It's a place of respite I think. I found this place after I cut ties with the Yiga Clan. And I think for you, rest is well deserved."

Zelda dropped her gaze. "How can I rest when everyone is facing the Calamity, while I am here in relative comfort and safety? Already, Father has accused me of running from my duty… And he has no reason to think otherwise… At least from his perspective. I..I'm so ashamed. I can only hope that with your words, the Champions will be safe." Zelda said, tensely, still trying to recover.

"He's an ignorant old fool with neither the blood of the goddess or the gift of prophecy. As a prophet of the Calamity, Ganon impressed its fear of your power upon me, sending me visions of things to come, so I know you will awaken to your power soon. That is fate's true course that Ganon seeks to upend. And, I'm not unaware of how hard you've tried. I have watched your pains to unlock your power for some time now." And it was true. All those years he had watched with calm assurance that Calamity Ganon would rise and bring Hyrule to its knees, she trained by praying in freezing cold water until she collapsed and bore the brunt of her failure that only stung more as the years rolled by.

Zelda gave a small nod of acknowldgement, although she was too broken down to take much comfort in his words. She wanted so much to touch his face and tell him how much she loved him, but she held back, not wanting to feel any more vulnerable than she already did. She was afraid she might hurt him on account of the fresh bruise he had received. It was clear that her father had struck him. "I was so afraid of what Father might do to you. I'm so sorry for asking you to accompany me back to the Castle". H-he's a mean old man…" Zelda sniffed, breaking into a relieved but slightly tearful giggle.

Astor smirked slightly, finding Zelda adorable in her moment of catharsis. "You managed to abide that man for seventeen years? I see that you are stronger than I would have thought. And don't be sorry. There's nowhere else I need to be except by your side."

Zelda smiled a bit at his words. It was such a relief to see her smile again.

Astor continued. "I never thought it possible, but you were able to pull me back over the threshold and away from Calamity Ganon. No one has given me the amount of consideration you have."

Zelda's lovely green eyes lit up and Astor knew those dark days serving Calamity Ganon were finally over, and most surprising to him, he hadn't realized how awful those years had been until now. It was disorienting, like waking up from a distended dream. And he couldn't resist her any longer. No one had ever held to him or looked upon him in the way she did. He couldn't be the one to help her unlock her power, he knew that, but he wanted to at least pretend.

"How can I help you unlock your power…?" There was a sensual note in his voice, as he cupped her cheek, still damp with tears. Zelda's breath hitched in anticipation as he dipped his head to meet his lips to hers. She gave a small sigh of happiness, trapping his lips with hers, wishing she could savor the moment for all time. A single tear slid down her cheek, feeling a sense of release, drinking deeply of that kiss. She pulled down the hood of his robe, being careful to avoid the bruises on his hollow cheeks as her fingers grazed his pallid skin.

"Take all that you need from me," He breathed between kisses, taking her in the most intimate embrace before grabbing her under the ass and hoisting her up with some effort. Zelda gave a surprised but pleased sound.

"Exquisite..." Astor complimented, giving it a squeeze.

Zelda giggled and kissed him again, slowly, intensely, though she wobbled a bit, Astor struggling to support her weight. An intoxicating warmth spread throughout her whole being, her body yearning for his undeniably. But a dim feeling of sadness began to creep in as she wondered if they ever truly had a chance to be together that wasn't in secret. Would anyone ever accept them when there were so many reasons they would object? He would likely be put to death, and she'd have no say in the matter. Yet she couldn't stop herself from loving him.

If I can't realize my power, there might not be life after the Calamity, Zelda scolded herself.

Astor gave a pleased laugh. "Alright, Your Highness. You're breaking my arms." He set her down, with an apologetic look.

Zelda uttered an almost involuntary whimper of longing, reaching out for him again, her anxieties starting to overtake her again as doubts plagued her more than ever. "Lay down with me while I fall asleep?"

Astor gave her a stunned, blank expression for a moment.

"Hey, don't make this difficult." Zelda teased, pulling at the strings of his robe.

"Y-yes, Princess" Astor laughed as they kissed, carefully taking off his gold belt, the string of beads around his hips, and collar that hung over his shoulders. He helped her remove his robe, which was held together with hidden clamps. Astor draped the robe over her shoulders, and Zelda wrapped it around herself like a blanket, taking a moment to enjoy its softness and the warmness of it.

Zelda's gaze moved over him, admiring his silhouette. Under the robe, he wore a high-collared crimson shirt and a pair of black riding pants that did not appear ancient and worn like his robe.

They laid down together on the moss-covered ground. Astor slid his hand under the robe which was draped over her, sliding his hand over the curve of her hip where the folds of her pure white dress gathered. His name escaped her, softly. Zelda raised up slightly to lean on his chest and kissed him vehemently. Astor greedily wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing back with savage abandon.

Zelda drew away slowly, pushing his braided lock of hair away from his eye absentmindedly, noticing the fine lines under his eyes he hid under dark makeup. His dark brows tensed as he smiled a bit, giving her an affectionate but pensive gaze

Zelda sensed there was something he was keeping from her. Like there was something haunting him. Was something going to happen to him that he knew about? He was a prophet after all. She couldn't imagine the heavy emotional toll that came with glancing one's own future.

Zelda could barely keep her eyes open. It wasn't long before she fell asleep in his arms.

"Happy Birthday, Princess…" Astor had waited such a long time for this fated day, the day Ganon would rise. Yet, he was not spending it as he would have originally envisioned. He could barely comprehend that he was lying next to the Princess of Hyrule, helping to comfort her on her darkest day. And for the first time in his life, he understood what it was to love and be loved.

#Astor #Age of Calamity #Zelast #fanfiction #sorry for the wait!!!#I live

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thirsty-x1 · 5 years

Text

Patience Is A Virtue | Cho Seungyoun

Request:

can u write about seungyoun having a girlfriend that’s two years younger than him? and she wants to lose her virginity to him? yet he doesn’t believe her that she’s ready,, so she teases him by flirting with another member and he gets jealous? maybe has an idea why she’s doing it? maybe teases her back then they do it idkshjxjsn

↬ Pairing: Seungyoun x fem!reader

↬ Genre: Smut, slight fluff

↬ Warnings: explicit language, jealousy play, oral sex, fingering, orgasm denial, thigh riding, protected sex

↬ Word Count: 3.1k

“Okay but explain to me why we can’t do it, just explain it once more.”

Seungyoun sighed, flipping the page of the book between his hands as he ignored you. He had explained it a thousand times and you would always ask again and insisted, you had even tried to pull a ‘you don’t think I’m pretty enough’ on him but he saw through all and each of your moves. Almost every guy would love it if their girlfriend came up to them and said ‘hi, take my virginity already, please’ but no, your boyfriend had to be part from that 1% that was all sensitive about it, treating you like a baby because of an age difference of two years.

“I don’t feel like you are ready, it’s not that much of a big deal.” The way he didn’t even look at you in the eye when saying it annoyed you so much more. You walked up to him and sat down on his lap, putting his book aside and instead holding his face between your hands.

“I am ready, just because I’m younger than you it doesn’t mean I’m a dummie, you know.” His lips were on you, he turned you around and now you were on the sofa with him on the top, his stare changing as a smirk spread on his face.

“You have the most scared expression on right now, see? You are not ready.” He laughed as he got up, you staying frozen on the spot.

“That. Was. Not. Fair. You surprised me! I wasn’t scared!”

“Yeah, yeah, just get ready for Hangyul’s party, we have to get going in half an hour.” You just laid there for a few minutes, trying to calm your wild heart.

As you got ready, you kept thinking about it. He saw you as if you were a small kitten he had to take care of and protect from everyone, included himself, which was cute and beneficial sometimes, but you were sure about being with him and wanting him to be the first one. You loved him, he loved you, you were both sincere, had met each other since years ago, been dating for half a year and you were both in your twenties.

You finished preparing yourself, Seungyoun looking at you and immediately smiling, holding your hand. Even if he was the sweetest and you knew he had no intentions of hurting you, it just brought you down and made you feel slightly insecure sometimes. He noticed how tense you were and the guilt started crawling his system. He felt rather honored that you were choosing him to be your first, but he had many friends who would talk about how much they regretted their first time and didn’t want you to be one of those, he just didn’t feel like you were ready yet, which didn’t mean that you two would never get it done.

The drive was silent, few words exchanged and he was getting frustrated but it was better that way. Otherwise, you two would start fighting and it wasn’t fair, not for you and not for Hangyul, it was his birthday party after all. As you got to the dorms, the awkwardness started to go away, both focusing on putting their best face for the sake of the others. The music was blasting in the basement, everyone having a good time, the elders were already drinking whilst the younger were simply chatting in a corner.

“You are finally here!” Hangyul walked up to receive Seungyoun and you, hugging both tightly. “And looking gorgeous, too.” You could practically smell the alcohol in his breath but still smiled at him.

“You are looking pretty good as well, have you been exercising?” Seungyoun laughed at your terrible pick-up line but ignored it and engaged in conversation with the rest of the members.

“Yeah, I can show you if you want.” Hangyul smirked and now you laughed, the expression seeming unnatural in his face. “Lets go and dance a bit, you coming, Seungyoun?”

“I have to talk about something with Seungwoo first, you two get ahead.”

Maybe this was a chance. You would never do something like this under normal circumstances, but testing how far your boyfriend’s limits went was tempting you. As Hangyul dragged you to the center of the dance floor, your body got closer to his and he didn’t back up, following your movements. Seungyoun kept talking with the eldest in the room, who was looking at you with surprised eyes, but the ones that you really cared about weren’t even looking your way.

“But, do you want to have sex with her?” Seungwoo asked, raising an eyebrow at the proximity between you and Hangyul.

“Of course I want. I have needs,I know she does too and I have thinking in giving the next step now but I’m just... Not sure, I don’t want her to regret afterwards.” He would never show you the small panic on his voice when talking, but in front of his hyung there was no barriers.

“I don’t think she will regret. I have seen the way she stares at you, she fell pretty damn hard in love, and since you are taking so many precautions, I would say you too.” He reflected on it, Seungwoo was right. It was annoying that he needed reassurance from someone else on something that involved just the two of you, but his perspective made him feel better about the situation. “But I would say you hurry up or she is going to be snatched from you real quick.”

Hands on your swaying hips, a mouth dangerously close to your neck, your eyes fixed on the ones that were finally on you.

“She is just trying to make me jealous, not the best strategy–” Seungyoun choked on his words as Hangyul suddenly turned you around, both of your bodies now completely touching, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, but you weren’t pulling away, and that switched something inside of him. Of course, he was well aware of your intentions, but seeing someone else touch you like that was going a little too far, what were you even doing?

“I will go and protect the kids, I think you both should talk some other place.” Seungwoo’s tone was almost reprimanding as he walked towards the sofa and distracted the youngsters, his hand grabbing Minhee’s curious head and softly making him look another way, the action followed by a bunch of giggles.

Seungyoun simply stared at you intensely, waiting for you to stop, and to be honest, you had kind of forgotten about your original plan and just focused on the way the body in front of you moved, the sensuality captivating you. At least until you felt a strong grip on your wrist and a gritted whisper on your ear: follow me. He didn’t wait for a response, dragging you to the shared room on the upper floor before locking the door and turning to see you, a mix of anger and lust in his stare.

“S-Seungyoun, I–”

“Don’t say anything. Lay down.” His tone was colder, your heart clenching, but you did as he said. “All you had to do was simply wait, was that so hard?” You were at a loss of words, did you really make him so mad? He wasn’t the type to get overly jealous but maybe you did pushed it too far this time.

“I am sorry.” There was nothing else you could look at except the floor, the whole situation making you feel embarrassed.

“What is the point in being nice and considerate if you are going to just make me aside at the first opportunity you get?” He got closer and grabbed your chin gently, making you look at him. “Answer me.”

“I wasn’t going to d-do anything...” Stuttering was inevitable when those sly eyes of his stared deep into your soul.

“Oh, really? You were already doing plenty back there.” His fingers slowly grazed over your skin, playing with the strap resting on your left shoulder before pulling it down, and doing the same with the other one. “Maybe I just need to give you a lesson.”

Shivers crawled up your skin, the temperature in your blood going from cold to hot and hot to cold, the beating of your heart being extremely audible, which made him smile. His hands caressed the back of your thighs, your legs spreading open to give him access, his eyebrow raising made your cheeks burn.

“W-What kind of lesson?” Anxiety and excitation mixed in your insides, his touch becoming rough in the split of a second as he hovered over you, your back hitting the mattress in an inaudible sound.

“Patience is a virtue.”

His hips ground roughly on you, his hardness against your core making you flinch all of a sudden. The unexpected and new feeling had you crumbling in front of him, shades of shame and shyness dancing on your expressions as he kissed your neck, his lips sucking on the skin drawing moans out of yours.

“Seungyoun, please...”

“No. You can’t ask for nothing tonight. I already rushed this, now you will respect the timing for each...” His fingers slid between your legs, “one...” circled around your underwear, “of...” cupped your center, “my...” and pulled away, “actions.”

You whined out, the short contact feeling too good to be true. He had already made you wait enough, what did he mean with “rushed this”? He evidently has no idea of how long have you been waiting for him but now he was going to torture even more? Selfish...

His laugh brought you back to reality only to make you want go back and hide in your thoughts at noticing him looking at your underwear, the cute design standing out and breaking the atmosphere that had built. You covered your face, a muffled excuse coming out between your hands.

“I wasn’t expecting that this would happen...”

Fingers running along your slit interrupted you again, Seungyoun humming at your wetness making a damp spot in the fabric. He took off your shows and then proceeded to remove your panties, his mouth watering at the view of your legs completely spread for him, the spot between them provoking him to throw his lesson away. As you felt the silence and no contact, you glanced between your fingers, the sinful way your boyfriend licked his lips while his eyes were fixed on your entrance making you tighten up, which he seemed to notice because soon he looked up, smiled and leaned in, not breaking the eye contact as he licked a stripe. He ate you out slowly, his tongue darting out and faintly giving you what you wanted before stopping, his lips closing around your clit only to let go sooner than later, his touch not lingering more than a few seconds.

“You taste so wonderfully...” You felt something stretching out your hole and breathed heavily. “Can you take another, baby?” You nodded and the slight burning followed, your whole body going tense until he kissed your thigh signaling you could relax. Seungyoun worked his fingers slowly, gently making sure you were ready for him, his focus on the task causing him to forget that you were about to cum any minute now and pulled them out quickly, making you scream in frustration.

“Why?!” He chuckled, sucking his fingers before unzipping his pants, your voice getting caught in your throat. Was he really going to..?

“No, I won’t fuck you. Yet.” The way you flinched at the explicit mention made him laugh as he kept undressing until he only had his underwear on. “I want to be comfortable to torture you more.”

His words sounded like a promise and a threat at the same time, making you feel annoyed and aroused. You saw a small package glistening in his hand, and you instinctively closed your legs. He chuckled again, making you realize what you did, and opened them again. His erection twitched under the light fabric and your mouth got dry before putting into words one of your many fantasies.

“Can’t I... Suck you off?” When e gulped, you stood up and went to him, your hands feeling up his chest, down his stomach and just when you were about to reach the zone he had never let you see, his lips took you by surprise and his arms picked you up, he sat on the bed with you on his lap.

“You can’t, not now. But if you are so needy, show me. Ride my thigh.”

You blinked a few times at his request. R-Ride his thigh?

“But... I want to–” His fingers gripped your hair softly before tugging it, slowly but still making your scalp tingle.

“Don’t you remember this is a lesson? Obey.”

Did you even have any other choice? You couldn’t help but to blush furiously as he took the initiative, his hands on each side of your waist, pressing you down on him, pushing you back and forward, your wetness painting his skin and the friction making you moan, oversensitiveness taking over you. His fingers pulled your dress and took it off, your breasts at his mercy and he proceeded to tease your nipples over the fine cloth covering them. Your juices dripped onto his thigh, small pleas dissipating in the air whilst he whispered you to open your eyes and look at him: his lips parted, sucking one of your now exposed breasts as his hand stroked his cock lazily, the view bringing your movements to a halt. You weren’t sure at what moment he had managed to pull out his member while still making you feel him everywhere and you didn’t really care. His pre-cum was leaking from his tip down his shaft only to be spread by his fingers.

“I can’t... I really need you now, please, I promise I will never insist again but now I just want you.” He turned around and reached for the condom he had left on the bed, quickly opening it and wrapping it around his member, then picked you up and held you in place before looking up to you.

“Are you completely, absolutely sure that–!” Now you were the one to cut him off, clinging onto his shoulders as you positioned above him and slowly let him fill you, stopping whenever the pain was too much and proceeding when you got used to it, until he was completely inside of you. “You really have to work on your patience.”

“Maybe, but not tonight.” You hid your face in the crook of his neck and he caressed your back, his arms holding you close.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, but... I need a moment to get used to it.”

He nodded at your words and simply waited, enjoying the warmth and the closeness, the fact that he could have been with you like this since long ago seeming funny now. All the time he tried to wait, pushing you away, making you feel bad... All that wasn’t important at all now. He finally understood. It wasn’t about the time or the regret, it was about you two just sharing one more moment together and nothing was going to change that. The way your breathing tried to get steady, your nails softly digging into his skin, your small whimpers whenever he touched a certain spot, discovering new expressions, everything felt slightly surreal for him, and when he stared at you in the eyes, he could sense that it was the same for you.

“I don’t think I can hold back anymore.” The muttering was barely audible, his voice close to crack at any time. You caressed his hair, a pleased smile on your face.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to switch your positions, him being at the top and starting to buck his hips into you, each time letting out tiny grunts that sent shivers down your spine. You loved him so much: his back muscles tensed, relaxing when you ran your fingers over them, the sweat covering his chest, his hair sticking out in every direction, the adoration he looked at you with, his fingers holding yours, his lips kissing you sweetly. Each touch was measured, as if he had thought about this moment since forever and planned every detail, every action.

You could feel the knot in your stomach starting to form and as soon as you told him, he changed the position, leaning back and slightly raising your legs, all of a sudden hitting much deeper than before and you tightening deliciously around his cock. His hand came down to rub your clit, the denial you had gone through before unleashing all at once, and after a few more thrusts, he spilled into the condom. He stood like that for a few minutes, trying to regain some composure before pulling out, tying the preservative and throwing it in the bin next to the desk.

He came back, quickly cuddling next to you and covering both of your bodies with the bed sheets, way too tired to really care about hygiene right now. His hands were playing with your hair and his expression finally showed relief, as if he had taken a big weight out of him.

“Was it good? Do you feel alright? Is there anything you need? If it hurts, I can do everything for you, just ask.” You laughed at the ceaseless string of questions that followed his gentle actions.

“I am fine, and the pain will cease soon.”

“You are way too calmed for everything that just happened.”

“That’s because I trust you, silly. I already knew everything was going to be alright.”

Seungyoun’s heart swelled up, growing three sizes, his smile unable to hide the amount of happiness that the simple and very obvious statement brought to him. All the pieces seemed to fit now and he felt so complete, so relaxed that everything went alright. Why did he even worry, for starters?

“I trust you too, and I love you.”

Just as you were about to reply, an angry knocking surprised you both. The next half an hour, you two got reprimanded by a very parent-like Seungwoo whilst the younger ones died laughing in the back. Seungyoun looked at you, his posture asking for forgiveness at the same time as he mocked the older one, who proceeded to stare at him for a good ten seconds before breathing in and calming down. Indeed, when it came to Seungyoun, patience wasn’t just a virtue, but rather a must to not strangle him on the spot.

I almost changed the ending to Seungyoun leading the reader as if they were to do it and then being like ‘lolz, no, patience is a virtue baby’. Glad I read the fucking request again, jeez, I could have fucked up. Also, don’t be like y/n and always go to pee after sex!

I didn’t know how to end it so yes, that is wack.

~Nani

unedited

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fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years

Text

History’s Finest Part 1 (KBTBB) (No Pairings.... Yet)

So this is a lil idea I had which will likely turn into a series. I don’t know how long it’ll be or who will end up with MC but I know it’ll be fun! Hopefully. If you guys have any specific requests on who’ll be the lucky guy, I’d love to know! I love to here your thoughts.

Potential Warnings: Bad language, Gun wounds, Stitches.

Premise: The Bidders have been employing a treasure hunter to bring in new and unique things to the auction, but after a year of working together, how close have they grown? And how little do they trully know about her?

~~~~~~

“She’s late. Again.” Soryu grumbles as he and the King continue to sit in the Executive Lounge for the passed 30 minutes. A new contact for the auction was supposed to meet them with an item to list, but, being consistent with the last two times they had used her service, has yet to arrive on the agreed time.

With an inkling they’ll be stood up, Soryu drums his fingers on his gun, which is rested on the arm of his chair. He stares down the elevator doors, daring them to open so he can shoot the first person that enters.

Eventually, those doors did slide open, and there, hobbling out with a brief case hung over her shoulder, stood the woman they had been waiting for. She was wearing her usual fatigues of a dark blue button up shirt, the buttons done up just to allow for a bit of cleavage, mainly because she couldn’t be bothered to be modest after her long ship ride, and black jeans, simplistic but sexy, a belt with a pouch wrapped around her waist. There was also an empty holster attracted to the back, covered by the over hanging top.

“You’re late.” Now also ticked off with his arms draped over the back of the couch, Eisuke stared down on her. Her tired, positive expression didn’t falter as she crossed her arms, trying to restrain herself from jumping forward and strangling easily her most difficult client. It was lucky she wasn’t armed. The treasure hunter had just docked off from Panama, having gone through weeks of gun fights and crumbling ruins to acquire the piece of history she had set out to find, and this was the greeting she got for recovering the relic worth millions? And who here wasn’t grateful?

However, she knew not to talk back. In her field, most people were one word away from blowing a fuse and then she’d lose the limited clientele that would buy from her. There weren’t many buyers she trusted, and the ones she had; double crossed her a number of times. And this guy was right-handed by a Chinese mobster in the heights of a famous casino hotel. Not someone you want to piss off.

“Oh, Ichi, it’s nice to see you too.” She didn’t think she’d ever get away with nicknaming the CEO of a multi-million, maybe even billion, dollar company, but every time she used it the guy’s face eased into an amused smirk, even now, when he was just reprimanding her for her short-comings. That eased her secretly racing heart; knowing she wouldn’t be gunned down right in the middle of his luxurious penthouse. Although, he was probably just worried about bloodying the marble.

“Do you have it?” The mob boss was less easy to impress, scowling the woman to high hell. She huffed out a laugh, trying to ignore how easily angered he seemed, and carefully dropped the case from her shoulder onto the coffee table in front of the CEO.

“All in one piece.” Lila decided, as usual, it would be best to leave out all the soldiers and crazed war mongers she had to fight off to get the artifact, knowing it would likely scare off any buyers that would be willing to buy something lost for centuries.

Leaning forward, Eisuke slipped on his special gloves, which led Lila to hide a smirk, before he clicked open the locked box. Never in her life had she taken such precautions when handling her finds. Usually, there would be a gun to her head and any belongings she had brought with her would alays end up as dirty as she was from sliding through mud, climbing dirt covered walls and- more often than not- blood from her or her enemy’s wounds. A life or death scenario never justified such preventive measures when she hardly ever remembered a snack bar for her lunch.

Eisuke’s expression didn’t change from that skeptical stare as the lid popped open to show the solid gold idol that laid inside. It was encrusted with green gems, a bracelet of similar design embedded in the padding. The King took no mind of the jewelry that wasn’t meant to be there and picked up the surprisingly heavy object.

“What is that?” Soryu, however, did take notice, pointing an accusing glare at the hunter to which she smiled.

“Just a present I found on my travels. Think of it as a thank you for being so accommodating.” Lila hid her own glare behind a spiteful smile. It was a shame the man was so good-looking, she would be happy to trick him into bed to sift through his cabinets for expensive things if it wasn’t for his hate for the opposite sex. Soryu merely sighed, directing his gaze to his old friend.

“What’s the condition?” He eyed the ancient Inca statue that Eisuke held up to eye level, turning it every which way to find some clue to prove it being a fake. He didn’t speak when he spotted something odd, but it wasn’t the shine from a modern day power buffer.

“There’s blood.” He swiped a snow white finger tip over the jelly substance and Lila’s face went just as pale as his gloves. As she had reached for the idol that stood above the room on a pedestal, she was shot by this month’s model of competition. The bullet ripped through her side, luckily not causing any serious lasting damage, but had obviously left evidence of her troubles on her wares.

“O-Oh, well, treasure hunting isn’t a clean job. Always getting cracked fingers and all. Nothing to worry about.” Lila was never good at lying. Not when the nuns at her orphanage asked her why her bully had punched her or when clients asked her why she didn’t manage to bring anything back from her travels- it was difficult for them to believe the cities had crumbled into the earth, never to be seen, or heard of, again. Her cheeks heated up, and not because of the light sunburn she had received being in such a hot climate, but due to a sign that she was, in fact, misleading them.

Both men grew suspicious, one raising an eyebrow and the other looking her body up and down. They never knew about her expeditions being dangerous. They believed she just waltzed into a temple hidden deep in a jungle or a cave high in the snowy mountains and plucked the ancient artifact right off the floor. It didn’t occur to them when she called to extent the meeting time to a week later that she had run into some seriously dangerous trouble or needed to rest in a hospital somewhere in the third world country she had found herself in that time from whatever bullet wound she had earned from her newest enemy.

“What happened?” Even though the three had only acquainted a year ago and only met two other times, Soryu- to be honest, both men- had grown rather fond of the treasure hunter. Although, his tone was harsher than she had ever heard it.

Lila tried her best to control her limited temper and had the body of a super model. Her manners, in the limited amount of time they did see her, were abysmal. She didn’t close her legs when she was sitting- she only ever wore her jeans or tight cargo pants- and gulped down any drink she was given in seconds. She was smart, despite looking as dumb as an uneducated delinquent. They had met experts before, they were the ones that confirmed the items she brought in, but even they didn’t know as much as she had told them. She had the wisdom of the old man she was mentored by and the street smarts to find whatever information that would lead her to her next find.

However, Lila was less inclined to respond. She was never comfortable with someone dotting on her, even when she was a kid. It wasn’t in her second nature to rely on anyone else. Let alone her first. The old man that had taken her in from a young age after she tried to pick his pocket took years to gain her trust, even though he didn’t act like he cared. She was just a scared little kid at the time, and he introduced her to a world of adventure and danger, that he ensured he would protect her from. She was heading there anyway, might as well have a few connections.

She bit her lip, avoiding their intimidating gazes.

That’s when the CEO lost his patient. Throwing himself forward made her want to step back. They played this odd dance until her back bumped into the person behind her, which she hadn’t noticed beforehand. She jumped around to see a man in a suit, who had greeted her on every one of her visits. Kenzaki, seemingly one of Eisuke’s well-dressed henchmen.

However, Lila didn’t get to greet him when she felt a different warmth on her back, rotating around again like some sort of spinning top. She was struck of all thoughts as Mr Ichinomiya’s towering figure pinned her in place. She gulped, an awkward grin gracing her lips as she tried to regain composure. The old man always warned her about going into a meeting alone. Maybe he had a good point.

“Y’know, you can just get it out with a tissue. I don’t have any on me, but I’m sure you can afford the additional expense.” She tried not to sound intimidated with a short chuckle, but that would be difficult when her tone was a little shaky.

“What happened?” Eisuke glared between gritted teeth and she responded almost instantly.

“I got shot. But it’s nothing, really. I won’t charge you medical expenses or anything and it didn’t damage the artifact.” As always, the buy came first, so she didn’t worry about her own physical health. Or, she didn’t think they cared about her physical health. Why would they? This was a business relationship. A transaction of wealth so she could fund her less than lavish lifestyle of bribing prison guards to get her out when she gets caught scoping out museums for information.

“Where?” Eisuke surprised her with his prying. Sure, she would expect him to return to the artifact and check it for bullet marks. Maybe even ask who the hell had a gun when she had never mentioned any danger. But she definitely, certainly, did not expect him to inadvertently ask how critical the wound was.

Sighing, she didn’t want to lose a client due to rejecting him, so she turned, surprised to find the hotel manager gone, and lifted her top to so the stitches that were still waiting to heal just above her hip bone on soft skin could be seen.

Although, she was trying to hide the multiple other scars she had gained over the years. A few long ones graced her arms and shoulder from grazing bullets. Once, she got stabbed in the thigh with a ceremonial dagger from Nepal. Last year, on her first job with the Black Market Auction, her leg got caught under a stone pillar from an impatient competitor of her’s who used dynamite in a underground temple cave. Not the smartest idea, and it left her with an awful looking scar around her calf from torn skin. It was weird seeing your own muscles. Bikinis and any sort of swimwear that wasn’t a diving suit were definitely ruined for her now.

“See, not that bad. I’m used to it. Comes with the territory.” She breathed in sharply when she lifted her arms to show him, trying to mask her pain with a forced smile. Even though she had been looking at the man, she didn’t notice his fingers, now ungloved, reaching for her wound because she was so concentrated on consoling whatever worries he had so she could get the hell out of there. She wanted to leave and read her journal to go through the memories of her last trip. That was her favourite part: reliving all her exploits.

A searing pain shot through her system when Eisuke’s finger’s grazed the bruised skin and she shot him the worst glare she could subconsciously muster. “What the fuck?” She screamed the instant she noticed his outstretched hand and sly smirk. What kind of sadistic fuck thinks its funny to touch up a new wound? She couldn’t help but grow furious at how he had just treated her. Who did he think he was? Jesus? Had he hoped to heal her with whatever magical power he thought he had been gifted with?

“So, it is bad?” His smirk quickly turned into a frown when he caught her lying. She gulped, not knowing what will happen next. Usually when she was confronting someone, whether a warmonger or crazed mercenary, she had a way to escape. Either through the window of a third story window in a warring city or through the dense jungle away from the excavation cite, she had the luck of whatever deity was watching over her.

But, not here. This was ‘civilised’ society. Not to mention his house. There’d be no way she could make it to the lobby and away from the gun the mob boss had under his fingers this very moment. She had had a lot of close calls in her life, but was this it?

“Any gun shot wound is bad! I was fucking impaled with metal! What do you think’s gonna happen when you stab it!” She cried, finally remembering to push her shirt back down and not touch the healing wound. She really hoped it hadn’t opened again. She had a habit for doing that. Accidentally, of course.

“I didn’t stab it.” Eisuke couldn’t help but chuckle at how loud she was being. This was totally out of character, and she, mad, was very amusing. He knew she was always holding back, he could see through anyone, but he never thought she was holding back this much.

“You may as well have.” She huffed, crossing her arms and turning her gaze away to try and calm herself down again. She didn’t usually lose her cool like this, but she found it hard to control herself with two deliciously hot men she wasn’t allowed to touch because of work, and her own chastity. She wasn’t one for meaningless exploits, she wasn’t interested nor had the time. All she wanted was the adrenaline from her treasure hunting ways. Although, she did feel lonely sometimes, especially when everyone else in her line of work were sex-crazed young adults who couldn’t seem to keep it in their pants. They were here for a fun time, not a long time.

But, the CEO’s next actions were what surprised her most. He turned to his hotel manager and ordered him to take her to a room upstairs. She jumped out of her sulking, ignoring the settling pain in her abdomen, and flat out refused any hospitality he was going to show. All she wanted to do was deliver the package, collect her money, and go home to watch a movie. And by home, the nearest motel. Lila didn’t live anywhere, she was always on the go, so she didn’t bother investing in any of the countries she had loved when she visited them. Domestic life wasn’t for her. And the glimpse of peace she had seen in her infancy showed her she didn’t want that mundane existence.

“If you collapse outside my hotel it won’t look good. Go with him.” He demanded and Lila frowned, breathing in to argue again, when Kenzaki grabbed her arm and started pulling her to the staircase. She yelled and struggled, but wasn’t as strong as she usually was with her handicap, and was taken away to a lavish penthouse suite.

“You’re happy.” Soryu commented when Eisuke turned around and sat back down, staring down at his newest treasure. He was smirking, but there was actually a hint of happiness behind that egotistic grin that wasn’t usually there nowadays. He wasn’t going to admit he had been waiting for an excuse to usher the woman into his hotel. Albeit, it was for her to stay the night with him, but he was content with nursing her back to health. He was definitely looking forward to delving deeper into this new character she had been hiding from them both.

Which made Soryu mad. He had also grown a longing for the woman, and he was even more weary about making that apparent to both his friend and the subject of his curiosity. She wasn’t annoying like other woman. She didn’t wear overbearing perfume like other woman. She could get away with deodorant and her own scent. Although, he would have to get closer to smell that on her skin. She was like some sort of divine being, sent down to test how unwilling he was to give affection to the opposite sex. And he definitely wouldn’t be mad about having her in his own apartment, laying on his bed or showering in his shower to clean off the dirt and grim she gained from her expeditions.

However, knowing she got hurt on a job they had sent her on tore. him. up. Even if it was the ‘territory’ for her profession, or she had gone through similar circumstances before, he felt responsible. If they hadn’t agreed to buy the artifact she promised she could get, she might not have gone. Truthfully, she would have just gone to the next buyer, she only came to them because they paid well. Better than collectors or museums. But that didn’t mean he didn’t blame himself for sending her there.

“Merely amused.” Eisuke chuckled to himself as he lifted the thick, bangle-like bracelet with the hook of his finger, peering at the exquisite piece while resting his chin on his fist. It somehow sparkled, even after centuries, maybe even a millennia, buried under dirt or covered in dust. The style was simple and timeless, no one could mess it up. And yet, because she had thought to add it into the brief case for him to see without asking for more made the item special. So, when Soryu got up to clear his head of his guilt, he dropped the jewelry into his pocket, planning to keep it for his own personal use.

#kbtbb #kissed by the baddest bidder #eisuke ichinomiya #soryu oh #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu

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wizardwritings · 6 years

Text

Borrowed Sweaters, Stolen Kisses

Overview: In a game of Truth or Dare, you’re dared to sneak into the Marauders’ dorm and steal one article of clothing to wear the next day. It just so happens that the jacket you snatched was Sirius’ favorite jumper.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 2,114

Warning(s): Language, fluff, a bit of suggestive content.

Author’s Note: I have so many “Truth or Dare” type requests in my inbox, so here you go! ;) Plus, who could resist wearing Sirius’ jacket and basking in his scent? Sigh.

“No way.” You shook your head, kicking your legs out in front of you as you ignored Lily’s poking and prodding.

It was a relatively relaxed Friday night, and you and your roommates decided to spend it with a bottle of firewhisky and a game of Truth or Dare. The truths ranged from anything to, “Would you fuck Lucius?” to, “Have you ever had sex when someone else was in the room?” And the dares weren’t any better. Marlene vomiting in the corner served as a great reminder of that.

You were just grateful the dares you received were rather mundane.

That was, until now.

“Y/N, you have to do it!” said Dorcas.

“Can’t I just forfeit this round and take a shot?”

“Nope, that’s only allowed for truths,” she quipped.

You glanced over at Lily and Alice, a pleading look on your face, but you were met with a teasing grin and sympathetic shrug, respectively.

“Rules are rules,” Dorcas sang, taking a swig of firewhisky as she shot you a challenging look.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Marlene’s fierce glare caused your words to die in your throat.

“If I had to chug that hot sauce concoction you guys made and then eat acid pops until I felt sick, you can to go to the Marauders’ room and steal a fucking jumper or something-- Sounds like a cakewalk compared to mine.”

As she leaned her back against the bed, hand over her stomach as beads of sweat trailing down her forehead, you figured Marlene was right. You’ve been in their dorm plenty of times before, anyway-- What was the worst that could happen?

“You’re right.”

“I know.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up and slipped some fuzzy socks on, ignoring the cheers coming from your tipsy roommates. When you reached the door, your friends watching fervently as you wandered off to your ill-fated trek, you paused at the handle.

You looked back at them, heaving a sigh. “If their dorm turns out to be booby trapped and I get caught, just know I will haunt you from the grave after I die of embarrassment.”

“We expect nothing less,” was Lily’s smart reply.

Soon enough, you found yourself climbing up the boy’s dormitory, feeling like you were doing a reverse walk of shame. It was a quarter past three o’clock in the morning and the odds of any of them being awake were slim to none, but that didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach.

You made your way to the front of the Marauders’ dorm room and pulled out your wand, swiftly casting an Invisibility Spell and the Muffliato Charm as you slipped entered their abode.

For the most part, it looked just like your dormitory. Only neater. Each desk had its own assortment of organized clutter and, aside from the stray pieces of chocolate scattered throughout, was clear enough to work on. Scarves and jumpers were thrown onto chairs--which meant your dare should be easy enough to complete--and a dim light was left twinkling.

Everything seemed cozy and lived in. Normal.

Except for the fact that none of the boys were in their beds.

“What on earth?” you murmured under your breath, finding it a bit strange the room was completely empty at this hour. But knowing the Marauders, you reckoned they were probably sneaking out of curfew and roaming around the castle. It wasn’t unlikely.

Still, with your feet planted at the foot of their dormitory, you wanted to get out of there before you were caught--despite the precautions you took that should have hid you well.

Your hand hovered over the article of clothing nearest to you, which was a jumper draped over the back of a chair, and you took a deep breath, saying, “It’s just a dare. You can do it.”

Before you lost all your nerve, you snatched the jumper with one hand and slipped out of the dormitory. And you rushed down the stairs, you could’ve sworn you heard some shuffling coming from the empty room. But you didn’t care.

Part one of your dare was successfully completed.

Now for the hard part: Wearing it around the next day.

- - - - -

“How do I look?”

You posed in front of your roommate, trying not to laugh at how the borrowed jumper engulfed your frame. Walking down the center of your dorm, you gave a little twirl.

“Sexy,” Marlene teased from her spot on her bed. “Sirius’ sweater looks nice on you.”

Cocking your head to the side, you gave her a look. “How do you know this is his jumper?”

“How can you not? It smells just like him.”

“What?” Furrowing your eyebrows, you brought the collar of the pullover under your nose.

Sure, you noticed the slight musky scent that made your eyes want to flutter shut, but it could’ve been any of their jumpers...Right?

“How do you even know what Sirius smells like?”

Marlene shrugged. “Again-- How can you not? Just because I don’t like guys doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate their scent. And that scent is distinctly Sirius.” She folded her arms with a smug grin when she caught you taking another whiff of the collar. “Nice, huh? Lemony and minty and piney all at once.”

Your cheeks heated, but you rolled your eyes to play it off. “It’s not the worst, I suppose.”

Laughing, she tossed you your bookbag from across the room while grabbing hers. “Come on, lovebug. You can see him during Potions in a few minutes.”

“I won’t be looking forward to it.”

You grumbled protests as the both of you made your way down the Gryffindor Tower and toward the cold dungeons that housed the classroom, but Marlene paid them no mind. Soon enough, you reached the room and spotted Lily and Alice in their usual seats.

“Hey,” you quickly whispered, sliding into the seat next to Lily before Slughorn sauntered over to the front of the class.

“Nice jumper,” she said simply, eyes lighting up in amusement. “I knew you’d go through with it.”

Reminded of your rather bold choice of clothing, you subconsciously tugged at the sleeves. You sent a quick plead to Godric that you didn’t look as foolish as you thought you did.

While Professor Slughorn introduced the Volubilis Potion the class would be making the next lesson and eventually began to lecture about the origins and uses, Lily nudged you on the side, sliding you a ripped piece of her parchment paper.

You looked at her curiously as Marlene peered over your shoulder to catch sight of the writing.

DON’T LOOK NOW-- But I’m 100% certain Sirius has been staring at you since the start of Potions.

Of course, the first thing both you and Marlene did after reading the note was turn your heads at the same time towards the back of the class where the whole of the Marauder’s were sitting. And, as you should’ve expected, you made directly eye contact with an amused-looking Sirius.

Both of you turned back so fast you were sure at least one of you received whiplash.

Wide-eyed and flushed, you exchanged glances with Marlene, both of you trying to hold in your laughter.

“I told you not to look,” Lily whispered, a small giggle escaping from her lips, sending you three into fits of laughter you tried to muffle with your hands.

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, causing the three of you to straighten up in an instant.

“Something amusing you, ladies?”

“No, sir,” you quipped.

“Sorry, Professor,” remarked Lily.

“We’ll shut up now,” promised Marlene.

With a stern look on his face but a slight tilt of his smile, Slughorn nodded and returned to his teachings. “I trust you three will be experts of the Volubilis Potion by the next lesson and I won’t have to catch you making doe eyes at a certain someone?”

Though he asked all three of you the question, his gaze was pointed at you and the class knew it. Your cheeks turned a bright pink as slouched into your chair. Perhaps if you tried hard enough, you could turn into the seat.

“Yes, Professor,” you mumbled, ignoring the stifled laughter from Marlene and an apologetic, but amused, look from Lily.

And as he continued the lesson, you could’ve sworn you felt a certain pair of eyes on the back of your head until the end of it.

When class finally concluded and Slughorn dismissed the lot of you, you rushed out of the classroom as fast as you could.

But not fast enough.

“Nice jumper, Y/N,” you heard a deep voice call, stopping you in your footsteps. “Looks familiar.”

You swallowed, slowly turning around to face Sirius--cheeky grin and all. There was nothing you wanted to do more than dash back to your dormitory and hide, but instead you straightened your spine and braved a look of nonchalance.

“Does it now?”

“Yeah,” he said with an amused look in his eyes. “I’d have to say it does.”

Peering up through your eyelashes, you looked at him with faux innocence. “I can’t say I know why.”

Slowly, he walked closer towards you as you moved back against the wall. He took the excess fabric of your sleeve into his hands, stroking them between his fingers.

“You know-- It even feels familiar.” He smiled thoughtfully. “Just like my jumper I happened to lose last night.”

By now, the halls had begun to clear up, the traitors you called friends having left you with a thumbs up right as Sirius approached you.

You coughed. “I wonder why.”

He was so close you could catch a whiff of his lemon and pine scent.

“If you wanted my clothes on you, Y/N, you could’ve just asked.”

You pointedly eyed the way he was toying with the hem of your--or rather, his--sweater, lifting it slightly. “Well, if you wanted my clothes off this badly, you could’ve just asked.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise at your suggestion, hand frozen on the fabric. The intensity of his gaze melted your steely disposition, embarrassment creeping up to your neck.

“I’m only kidding,” you murmured, refusing to be the one to break eye contact.

“That’s a shame, then.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Biting the inside of your lip, you toyed with the bottom of your sweater.

“That’s my favorite jumper, you know?” mused Sirius, looking fondly at the embroidery at the front. “James’ mum knitted it for me.”

A horrified look crossed your face. You stole his favorite sweater Mrs. Potter knit him herself? Good going.

“Oh, Godric,” you swore, reaching for the hem of the pullover. “I’m sorry, Sirius! I didn’t know.”

Chuckling, Sirius placed his hand on top yours to stop you from removing it. “No-- You can keep it on.” You paused. “I’d say I quite like how it looks on you.”

Your heart skipped a beat when his hand that was still on your ran down the length of your fingers. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you interlaced them with his own, causing him to send a shocked but pleased look your way. You smiled.

He ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, gently drawing you closer to him. “If I were to kiss you right now, would you be upset?”

You shook your head, leaning into his touch. “Upset is the last thing I’d be.”

“Well, then I suppose--”

“What are the two of you doing?” you heard Slughorn exclaim as he caught sight of the two of you against the hallway. He pulled Sirius away from you by the collar, sending an embarrassed flush to flood your cheeks.

Sirius, however, looked unperturbed.

“Sorry, Professor,” he said sincerely, “but what I was about to do just then-- I’ve wanted to do that for years now.”

He smiled at the shocked look on your face, giving you a wink as Slughorn released his shirt. Sirius made his way back over to you across the hall.

“How utterly tantalizing she looked in my jumper was only the catalyst,” said Sirius before placing both hands on either side of your hips, pulling you towards him in a brief but sultry kiss.

“Mister Black! Miss Y/L/N!”

“Sorry, sir.” This time, Sirius didn’t sound so sincere. “I just couldn’t wait until we got to the dormitory. But, don’t worry-- I assure you there will be far better, more passionate kisses that will take place there as well.”

And though the two of you may have cost Gryffindor five points, you would have to say it was worth it.

End Note: Unedited and I haven’t read through it yet, but I wanted to put something out before I went back to school! Hope this will suffice for now. :( I’ll try not to go MIA this time! xx Fia

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #marauders fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #james potter #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #sirius black imagine #fanfiction #borrowed sweaters stolen kisses

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 5 years

Text

Best Mistake of Your Life

Characters: Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader, Gwen (OFC)

Word Count: 1,392

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You accidentally send a snap to a stranger that may or may not be famous...

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me.

This is the December 16th fic for my 25 days of RPF Christmas with the prompt: I sent a selfie of myself in the tub to the wrong number and you responded back with another selfie. Holy shit you’re really attractive au

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

“Yeah, I’m finally in the bathtub. I’ve been looking forward to this night all week. Work has gotten me so stressed lately,” you rant to your best friend Gwen.

“You deserve it. I wish I were you right now. I can’t tell you how bored I am over at Steven’s place. Like, I love his family to pieces, but I’m ovulating right now. If we have any chance for a baby, it’s right now.”

“I suggest you drag his ass out of the house and take him home. You’ve been trying for so long.”

“Honey! We’re starting the game now!” you hear Steven faintly say on the other line.

“Got to go. He’s making everyone play flag football. Like I really want to be out there right now.

“Fake an injury. If anything, come to my house. I can’t help you make a baby, but I can help you relax.”

“Tempting. I’ll consider. Bye,” she says and hangs up.

The bubbles around you finally settle all around you. You put too much soap into the bath, so there are a lot more bubbles than there needs to be. If you were with your baby niece, you would be making beards out of the excess bubbles. Just thinking about her brings a smile to your face. The bathroom lights are off, leaving the five lit candles around the tub to be your only source of light. Soft music flows from the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. It’s really hard to get good ones since there are so many knock offs, but you found one at the apple store for a really great price. It was too good to pass up.

You felt bad for Gwen since she and Steven have been trying to have a baby for a long time. Every time they think they landed one, she gets her period a few weeks later and the disappointment settles in. She wants to take every chance she gets, so you understand why she’s a little upset he’d rather be playing flag football.

Luckily for you, you don’t have this problem. You’ve been single by choice for a few years now since you wanted to focus on you for a change. Ever since sophomore year of high school, you’ve bounced from relationship to relationship, with the longest lasting two years. You haven’t given yourself a chance to know what it’s like living completely single with no one to worry about. You got your own place, cook your own food, do your own laundry, pay your own bills, and work hard for the money you earn. It’s nice not having anyone to answer to, especially when most of your boyfriends were needier than you.

Which brings you right back to Gwen and Steven. She really needs a night away from him and his family, and you have just the thing to tempt her with. With your phone in your left hand, you sit up and position the bubbles to cover half of your breasts. Your hair is in a messy bun, and you make sure to position yourself for maximum sexiness. You open up Snapchat and type her name into the search bar since you just got a new account and haven’t remembered to get everyone’s name.

Your old one got hacked and stalked, so you deleted it and made a new one. This account is only for friends and family, but you know Gwen’s name by heart. After putting in her name, you took a sexy picture of yourself. Once you liked how it looked, you sink back down into the water and type, “you don’t know what you’re missing ;)” and send it off.

She’s going to open it and see it and feel obligated to join you. Your bath is big enough for two people, and it’s not like you two haven’t seen each other naked before. This gets the awkwardness out of the way and leaves room for awesomeness. Almost immediately, your phone chimes, and you look to see a snapchat notification from her. You open it, and your eyes pop out of your head in shock.

In your relaxed state, you must have typed her name wrong because what you just opened is not her or Steven or his family… it’s a very attractive man with whiskey brown eyes, curly brown hair, and a jawline that just won’t quit. You have no clue who this man is, and you feel yourself heating up from embarrassment. You read what he wrote on his picture, and suddenly, you’re heating up from something different now.

i’d like to know because damn, i wasn’t expecting that.

What do you say to that? Do you just ignore him and message Gwen like nothing happened? Do you message him back and see where this thing goes? Gwen’s voice is hanging in the back of your mind just screaming, “Go for it! He’s so handsome and you’re single!”. You’ve been single for so long, that maybe it’s time to jump back into relationships now. No, no, wait a second. You don’t have to date the man. Just see where this leads to, and if it’s either of your beds, then so be it. Just be casual about it. Your inner voice calms you down, and you open up the chat section with his name and just start typing.

I didn't mean for that to go to you. It was meant for my friend, but… do you like what you see? ;)

i wouldn’t have said what i said if i didn’t. it’s a shame those bubbles are covering you though.

Well, aren’t you bold?

i’m sorry, is this not okay? I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. i don’t normally do things like this, but you’re very beautiful.

No, keep going, I like it. You know, this bathtub is big enough for two people, and I sure am lonely.

darling, i wish i can be there. i’m across the country from you right now, but i like your energy. save it, and in two weeks, i’ll be back home.

How do you know where I live?

your location is on.

I knew that.

i’m sure you did. i’m matthew, and bathtub or not, i would really like to get to know you.

Well, then, in two weeks, you can. My location will be on, you’ll know where I am.

do i get to put a name to the face i saw?

Y/N.

well, y/n, i’ll see you in two weeks then.

Yes, you will.

You don’t normally do things like this, but you can’t get his face out of your mind. He would know if you screenshotted his snap, and you didn’t want to creep him out like that, so you just left it alone. It’s okay because his face has been imprinted on your brain until you get to see the real thing. He could be someone else for all you know and just used someone else’s picture, but you pray to God that’s not the case. You’ll take safety precautions to make sure he is who he says he is, and if he is, then you’re going to have a hard time keeping your hands off him.

He looks familiar though, and you rack your brain to try and remember where you’ve seen him. You would remember meeting him somewhere else, so it must have been a movie or a film. Is he an actor? You pull up Google and type in his name along with a description of what he looks like. It’s a long shot, but you go to images with the hope that he’s on there.

It’s endless scrolling, and it’s mostly just models and famous celebrities that cover your phone’s screen until you get to what you’re looking for. Holy shit, you found him. Holy shit, he’s on Dollface, 68 Kill, and Suburban Gothic. Holy shit this is Matthew Gray Gubler! You just fucking messaged Matthew Gray Gubler.

The loudest possible scream escaped your mouth, and you kicked at the water excitedly. It splashed over the edge, but you didn’t care because you talked to Matthew Gray Gubler. You’re getting out your excitement now so when you meet him, you’re cool and collected. You can’t wait to tell Gwen this since she’s a big Criminal Minds fanatic.

Best. Mistake. Of. Your. Life.

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tonysrhodeys · 5 years

Text

home at last

tw: abuse (implied) tw: suicidal thoughts (mentioned once) tw: violence

Steve can admit that he was not supposed to be there.

Tony always made Steve notify him if he planned on coming over. It was a precaution Steve didn’t always understand, but he always respected it.

No, Steve was not meant to be there. At least not without warning Tony in advance that he would be coming. Steve had always respected that, he always did.

He really didn’t mean to show up unannounced. But earlier a gallery owner had approached him about one of the paintings, thanks fo his dedicated lecturer, and Steve could barely stop himself from doing cartwheels all the way to Tony’s house. He was beyond elated. All he wanted was to share the moment with Tony.

They had been dating for nine months. The day they met Steve had arrived early for his shift at the campus coffee shop. The sun was barely up and Steve ended up walking straight into a pillar when he heard a voice. The disheveled student begged him for coffee because his machine broke and he assured Steve that without his coffee he would surely combust. Apparently genius never slept. Steve was enchanted by Tony Stark the first time they met.

Steve impulsively asked him out on a date after watching him gulp down three cups of coffee in as many minutes and shove a doughnut in his mouth leaving his face an icing-covered mess. It was adorable and Steve instantly wanted to know everything about him. Tony was hyper and he was rambling on about a project he was working on and Steve just asked him. Tony grinned and said yes, he was very quick to say it and it made Steve’s heart skip a few beats.

They told each other that they loved each other a month in. It was premature and Steve was astounded when Tony returned it. He never thought he could be this lucky. They were in college and all their friends told them they were too young to know the love of their lives. But they couldn’t feel his rapid heartbeats, the way his stomach did somersaults or the way his mind always seemed to be consumed by Tony. That was why he had to come to Tony immediately.

He didn’t think as he rang the doorbell, shifting excitedly on his feet. He was ready to tell Jarvis about the news when he saw the doorknob turn. He abruptly closed his mouth as it opened.

“Rogers.” He always spoke so sternly. A permanent frown etched onto his face. His gaze narrowed disapprovingly at Steve’s appearance—paint-stained shorts, a tattered shirt and sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Mr Stark, sir. I apologize for showing up unannounced. Can I see Tony?” Steve pretended not to notice the way Howard guarded the entrance. He wasn’t the largest man, but his presence was always imposing.

“He’s busy. Another time.” His curt reply was quickly followed by an attempt to close the door. Steve stuck his hand out and pushed half of his body between the door and the frame.

“I know he’s here.” It wasn’t supposed to be intimidating. Steve wasn’t intimidating. He was muscular and tall, but Tony always went on about what a softie he was. Howard’s glare somehow managed to intensify but Steve’s grip on the door only strengthened, despite the chills running down his spine.

“Leave, now.” Steve flinched when Howard’s calloused hands wrapped themselves around his wrist in a bone-crushing grip. Steve looked down, only for a second, at his hands but he saw it.

The red that stained his nails and tried to hide underneath them. The bruising knuckles frantically cleaned leaving specks of red.

All reason vanished. Steve used his superior weight and pushed past Howard. He couldn’t even stop to enjoy the older man’s stumble and landing with a loud thud. He could barely manage a coherent thought. Tony’s room was a place he could never forget, even though this place was a labyrinth.

He burst into the room and his eyes immediately found Tony. A wave of pain washed over him as he took in the shaking ball he curled himself into in a corner of the room. His whimpers were barely audible but rang loudly in Steve’s ears—a sound he knew would haunt him for years to come. Steve spotted a few bruises on the back of his arms and saw the slight red that dotted and trailed down his face.

“Sweetheart...”

Steve would do anything to forget the way Tony flinched when he first heard the sound. Steve didn’t want to try and calculate how many times it had happened that the slightest sounds terrified him. Tony slowly looked up and his expression flitted from confusion to relief to horror.

“I never wanted you to see me like this.”

Steve could have never wanted to see him like that either. Tears stained his cheeks, but they couldn’t hide the pain inflicted on him there. His lips were cut and coated with blood. His nose looked broken. His eyes bore similar red marks, which would soon become black eyes. His cheeks were clearly battered. Steve wasn’t sure where the blood ended and Tony started.

Steve dropped to his knees and Tony turned his face away in shame. Steve gently, hesitantly took Tony’s hands in his. He half expected Tony to pull his hands away, but he squeezed Steve’s hands. It was almost as though he was making sure that Steve really was there. The defensive wounds on his arms were clear and Steve gritted his teeth.

“He only just started. He’ll be mad that you interrupted him.” Tony’s voice was small with fear but hopeless. He was warning Steve to leave but had resigned himself to the fact that his suffering would only continue.

“He will never touch you again,” Steve promised firmly with such conviction in his voice that Tony’s eyes found his for a mere second before he averted his gaze back to the floor.

Memories flashed through Steve’s mind. There were countless times when Tony had shown up with a certain bruise that he always attributed to falling (because he was clumsy and exhausted) or an incident in the workshop while he was building something. Sometimes when Steve hugged Tony, he would wince or hiss in pain as though his entire body hurt. Tony said he didn’t sleep well or his workouts were especially grueling. Steve believed him, he didn’t think Tony would lie.

Steve only wished Tony trusted him enough to tell him the truth. Steve would have protected him. The last thing he would feel was disgust or disappointment.

Howard’s footsteps were impossible to ignore. Steve’s breath lodged in his throat in trepidation and Tony’s grip tightened. Howard didn’t bother knocking. As soon as he entered, his presence seemed to fill every inch of the room. He was imposing. It was suffocating. Tony’s room was large but it was impossible to see or feel anything other than pure Howard (narcissism, cruelty, and manipulation which all seemed to be emitted from his cologne, perhaps it was natural). Steve wondered if his presence had always been this intrusive or whether the malicious glint in his eyes was the reason. Any other day Steve would be riddled with fear, but he still had Tony’s bloody hand in his.

“Step away from him and leave before you get hurt.” There was a steely edge to Howard’s voice and he walked so he stood directly above them to emphasize his power over them. Tony tried to make himself smaller and Steve’s stomach tightened.

Steve got to his feet and suddenly Howard didn’t seem so tall. Steve tried to ensure that his fear didn’t emanate from him the same way Howard’s arrogance did. He motioned for Tony to move further behind him.

“I’m not going to let you hurt him again. Let me take him and nobody gets hurt.” Steve could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth. He’d never threatened anybody before. He didn’t want to be violent. He didn’t want to actually make his words a reality and see what his hands could do.

“Rogers, this is family business. Leave.” Howard clenched his fists, but Steve only planted his feet firmer. Tony was his family, just as much as his mother and Bucky were. Steve would put his life on the line for his family, that would never change no matter how frightening Howard appeared.

Steve tried his best not shudder. As scared as he was (he had zero fighting experience. Could he even throw a punch?), his rage was stronger. Knowing what Howard had done to Tony filled him with a burning hatred.

“No.”

Howard chuckled, hollow and cruel before he swung. Steve was thrown off by the chuckle and Howard’s fist landed hard against his cheek. Steve stumbled backward, groaning as he felt the throbbing pain in his face. Tony cried out in protest and began to struggle and pull himself up to his feet. Steve placed a hand on the wall to regain his balance and saw Tony clutching his stomach in pain as he tried to stand up. The tug at his heart that he felt reminding him of why he was doing this.

Howard swung again, seething with rage. He missed. Steve felt as though he lost control of his own body. An out-of-body experience. He was not even sure if he could have stopped himself if he wanted to at that moment. He was merely an observer of his own body as he struck Howard down with a strength he never knew he possessed. Howard landed on the ground with a thud, clearly shocked by Steve acting out on his threats and it not being a bluff. Steve instantly got on top of Howard, trapping him underneath him. Completely at his mercy.

He punched. He punched. He punched. He began to lose count as he lost the sense of what he was doing. All he could see was red. His own hands. Howard’s face. The rage. All sounds became a faint buzzing around him as continued his merciless beating.

“Steve.”

It was barely audible. A strangled plea. But it was enough. It was Tony. His voice broke through the trance. His vision no longer tunneled as everything in his mind became focused on Tony. Steve’s hand stopped in mid-air, his teeth still bared. Howard continued to flail underneath him, desperately trying to use this moment to break free.

“It’s okay.”

Somehow that was all Steve needed. His chest was still heaving. His hair haphazard, clinging to the sweat on his forehead. His fist slowly lowered and his face stopped shaking as he could feel his anger simmering down. He stood up and didn’t bother to spare a glance at the pathetic shell of a man beneath him. All of his attention turned to Tony. Tony had somehow found the strength to stand up straight and Steve immediately took his hands in his.

“I’m so sorry. I should have been there. I should have asked more questions. I was so afraid of pushing too hard that I didn’t even press at all and allowed this to continue. You never deserved this. You deserved love that I should have shown you in better ways. And I am so sorry that you’ve had to see me this way. You probably think that I am a monster. I understand if you don’t trust me anymore. Just please know that I love you.” Tony was the one in pain, but Steve was the one who could feel the burn of tears.

“Hey hey hey. It’s okay. I trust you. You saved me. You saved me.” Tony clutched Steve’s face in his hands, forcing him to look into his deep, brown eyes.

Steve’s eyes made a promise to Tony that he vowed to never break for as long as Tony would have him: to never hurt him or let anybody else do so. Somehow even after everything Tony had been through, he believed Steve. He wholeheartedly believed him. Believed in him. Steve pressed his forehead against Tony’s and they became the only people in the world. They were both in a position neither even wanted to see each other in but still found that comfort in each other.

“We should leave,” Steve said with a newfound urgency. Tony grabbed his phone and wallet and slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders, allowing Steve to carry his weight. Every movement stung with Howard having attacked every part of him.

He stopped above Howard. Tony never thought he would ever see his father in such a vulnerable position. He had been completely knocked off the high horse he was always perched upon. And it felt good. He lost a fight. He could only manage to keep one eye open and the rest of his body was still lying in an uncomfortable position. He spat out blood and winced afterward clutching his ribs. He still managed to sneer at Tony in an attempt to intimidate him. Steve left them alone and Tony began laughing. A full guffaw.

“All those years of abuse, of pain, of sitting on the cold bathroom floor in the middle of the night with a knife pressed against my wrist. All those years of your constant berating and reminders that I was not good enough and that I actually deserved what you gave me every night. And well, I believed you. I stopped hating Mom for continuing to be a bystander and even began to believe that I should appreciate the lessons you were teaching me. That’s done now. I’m done. The part of my life that you hated the most saved me and now I can eradicate you from my life. You can’t hurt me anymore. You’ve always told me I was weak and you kept trying to instill that in me, to instill your convictions. But you made me stronger. I’m stronger because of you. I’m stronger because of Steve. I’m stronger.”

Tony whispered a cold goodbye, void of any remorse. He joined Steve by the staircase and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Tony tasted freedom, something completely foreign to him. The shackles that he had worn ever since he could remember were finally gone. He wondered what it would feel like to never feel that aching pain in his body again. What it would feel like to fall asleep and wake up in peace and security, feeling loved. A future he had forbidden himself from wanting was finally within his reach. He felt as though he was walking on air. Or perhaps walking into the sunset with his knight in shining armor?

Whatever it was, this indescribable feeling, Tony knew it was good. And that was all that really mattered.

#stevetony #stony fic #steve rogers #tony stark #college au #anti howard stark #protective steve rogers #tw: abuse #tw: suicidal thoughts #mine #i am clearly an angsty person #like wow #lexywrites

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glitterians · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Jungkook x Jimin / Namjoon x Seokjin / Hoseok x Yoongi / Past Jungkook x Yoongi | Genre: Adult / Cyberpunk / Dystopian / Non-idol AU | Rating: Explicit / 18+ | Word Count: 4k | Warnings: Explicit sexual content in later chapters / Violence / Drug Use / Slut shaming / Explicit Language / Mental Health Issues / Morally Grey

(Crossposted on AO3. I’m on Chapter 8, if you prefer to read it there.)

Chapter 1: Body/Prison

Seoul, 2113

Outside always smelt metallic.

The boisterous sounds from the illuminated highway. The tall-as-the-sky buildings. The ever changing holographic ads, displaying in the walls whatever was in vogue. - A new Tesla car. A haute couture brand. - Everything that could satisfy the frivolousness from those living at the highest district. A simulation of a perfect world. A world with perfect looking people, perfect hairstyles and makeup, perfect clothes, perfect homes. Everything was good. Everyone was happy.

The lone figure standing in the roof sighs. Unconsciously running a hand through his neatly combed dark hair. His sparkly jacket reflecting the neon city lights. Tailor-made. Everything about his life was like that. Privileged. The 1%.

In the distance he could hear the faint sound of sirens. That was the other side. Outside from politicians and businessmen, no one from his social hierarchy was allowed to go near that part of Seoul. It was imperfect.

“Park-nim”

Jumping slightly after being surprised, he turns his head to the source of the voice. His bodyguard. A relatively young man, no older than 25. He wore a black suit, not as high quality as the clothes everyone else wore. After all, he wasn’t part of their world, he was just a worker for them.

“Your father is searching for you”

Nodding, he walks to the rooftop door. The bodyguard standing behind. That was his place. Never in front.

Both were walking silently through the highly illuminated hallways leading to the office. The sound of their footsteps echoing. It was almost midnight, everyone inside their rooms already. The young man stops suddenly, turning towards the man behind him.

“Namjoon” He was high class. There was no need for him to use honorifics. “Have you thought about what I asked?” Turning off his holographic monocle, the addressed man nods.

“I can’t. It’s risky” He answers crudely. Wanting to end the conversation as fast as he could. He had a task at hand and the boy was taking time from it. “Everyone knows your face”

“So? I can dress-up. You know how. You’re from there”

“Your father awaits, Park-nim. You already know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting” Motioning for him to keep walking, he turns on his monocle again. Pouting, the boy turns to the front.

“You promised” He says lowly. An uncomfortable silence accompanying them the rest of the way. They stop in front of a tall, metallic door. The bodyguard, Namjoon, tapping a code on a panel next to it, taking a step back as the door opens.

“Thank you, Namjoon. You can retire for the night” A voice says from the inside. The dark haired boy steps inside. His father was sitting at his desk, typing on a tablet. Motioning towards the chair in the front, never taking his eyes away from the screen. “Jimin, your 21st birthday is coming. You know what that means?”

Jimin was well aware that his father never expected answers. He did all the talking by himself. But this time the silence got too long. Was he actually expecting him to answer? The man looked up from the screen. Getting up, he walks across the room, towards the tall windows facing the streets.

“One day you will be the one in front of this corporation. That is, if you’re ever ready. The council doesn’t believe you will ever be ready, and son, I don’t believe it either” Jimin cringes at his words. His father had always been harsh towards him. Whatever he does, it never seems to please him. “You aren’t man enough to take over, but letting the corporation go to someone else…” He grimaces. “Next week, after your 21st birthday, you will be enrolled in the military. No ‘buts’, no excuses from your mother. You need to toughen up. Become a man” He says, roughly grabbing his son’s face in between his thumb and his index finger. “Understood?” Jimin nods with difficulty. His father smiles, content with the answer, or by the pained expression in his son’s face. “Now go to the entrance. I’ll call the driver”

Feeling tears welling in his eyes, Jimin blinks rapidly. He couldn’t allow his father to see him being weak. He had enough knowing already how his father hated his soft voice, his small frame, his delicate features. From the outside they were the poster family. The Park family, owners of the biggest corporation in all United Korea. Looking perfect in magazine covers and fundraising galas. Inside their lavish penthouse is where the masks came off. To say his parents hated each other was an understatement. Jimin has wondered since a young age if his parents ever loved each other. Screaming. Infidelities. Long periods ignoring each other. At least his mother loved him. She had always been his shield. The one to tell him he was beautiful whenever his father told him he was a disappointment. All he knew was that a mother’s love couldn’t be faked.

The entrance was dark and cold. Sitting in a leather couch, he gets out his phone. Notifications illuminating in front of him. A lone message awaiting him.

KNJ, read the sender.

He had to keep it in secret, knowing there was the possibility of his father having his phone monitored.

Opening the message, just a single word.

네 . Yes.

He smiles. He knew he would change his mind.

Hearing the footsteps from his father nearing, he puts his phone inside his jacket and gets up. That’s what was expected from him, the perfect son.

🐇🐇🐇

Park Corporation owned the entirety of United Korea. They were even bigger than the government; playing an important role in the reunification of South and North Korea in 2070, it was the least they could do for them. From the security, technology and the food industry, to banks and universities, almost everything had been owned by the Park family for nearly 5 decades. At least everything that was important. Minor corporations took care of transportation and entertainment industries.

Park Sr. had to be the biggest figure in the country. Respected by everyone. Whatever he said, it was rule. Whoever was the president in turn only had to comply to the whims and wishes of the Park family.

After the reunification. Park I had promised to minimize the increasing crime rates in Seoul, thus introducing the segregated districts by income. After the devaluation of the won, anyone with a an income lower than 7,000,000 won had to be sent to the mockingly called District 7 , to remind them of the number they will never reach. Keeping safe the figures and estates of only 1%, the”valuable part of society”. Park II , despite being in front for a short period, managed to introduce the cruelest rules. Being an extremely religious person, he deemed homosexuality illegal, reintroducing inhumane practices towards those that “lived in sin”. As well as introducing the food rationing for those living in District 7, or the inability to move towards a higher social class. Park III, the current head of the corporation, had been a little bit more lenient, allowing few individuals from District 7 to start working for them, mostly doing all the work no one from the upper class wanted to do, like teaching or cooking. Still no social mobility.

Jimin was his only son. The future senior, Park IV, if things went well and he manned up at the military. He was the spitting image of his mother, an ex-model with a nice butt and full lips, as Park III had described her when he met her. His son was soft spoken and lacked character, that’s what made his father feel like his son will never be at the level. Fearing he will ruin everything his family had worked so hard to achieve for so long.

The young man was aware of everything. The cruelty from his family. How his father looked down upon him and had zero expectations about him.

He didn’t want to be sent to the military, up in the north. He wasn’t cut for that. After eavesdropping months before, he had learned about his father’s intentions, and he started devising a plan. Luckily for him, his new bodyguard was near his age and talkative, hailing from District 7. Jimin managed to gain his trust, hinting at his plans many times, until he dared to ask him to take him to his world. At least for one day. He never went deeper on his desire to run away, in case the young man refused and went as a whistleblower to tell his father.

Jimin was sitting in his bed, a large jacket hiding the clothes he was wearing underneath. Namjoon had sneaked them two days before, after simply saying “two”, letting him know how long until he took him.

His father wouldn’t know. He was in Japan taking care of businesses. His mother always took sleeping pills, so she would be dead to the world for many hours. He turned off all his devices as precaution, in case his father had set extra security while he was away. But as far as he knew, no one would look for him. Namjoon was the one in charge of him after all.

Hearing a knock on the door, he immediately turn off the lights of his room, knowing that was his cue. Sliding the door open, Namjoon stood in front of him, out of the suit he always wore. He had a leather jacket on, black cargo pants with reflective stripes at the sides and boots. Stepping aside, he let Jimin walk out, before locking the door on the panel.

Muttering “Garage” towards the smaller boy, letting him know where they were heading. They walked in silence, keeping their hierarchy even then. Jimin kept pulling the fishnet peeking under the sleeve of his jacket, feeling nervous at what he was about to do. once they reached the garage, Namjoon walked straight to a motorcycle, handing Jimin a purple helmet while getting his on.

“Hold tight” He said, revving up. The garage door opening after the sensor detected the sound of a vehicle. Circling his arms around the waist of the taller man, Jimin started breathing deeply. “No second thoughts, Park-nim”

“Not at all” He said, trying to reassure himself.

Living all his life inside cars and planes, being in a motorcycle gave Jimin a sense of freedom he had never experienced in 20 years. He was seeing the city under a different light. The lights flashing by with the speed. The metallic smell stronger than ever.

After almost 30 minutes, Jimin could see the distinctive shape of the wall that marked the entrance of District 7. From the panel on the motorcycle, Namjoon projected an holographic code, the large door immediately reading it and opening. The motorcycle never stopped moving. Entering the doors, Jimin noticed the lights becoming an amalgamation of pink and cyan. The streets weren’t as neat. The sound of sirens becoming louder. Sounds of screaming and drunkards could be heard in the distance. A group of boys near his age were circling around a car, probably stealing parts.

Namjoon stopped outside an apartment building, a large billboard displaying instructions of what to do in case of a robbery.

“Before I take you… sightseeing, we need to make you blend in” He said, fishing his keys and opening the apartment gate. Jimin became fascinated at the sight of keys, growing up in a world filled with holographic panels and controlling things through the phone. Walking up three flights of stairs, for the first time Namjoon took the lead. This was his world after all. Most of the doors looked rusty, but the one they stopped in front looked almost decent, at least it had been taken care of. Taking out the keys again, Namjoon opened the door.

This placed looked way too different to what Jimin was accustomed to. No leather couches and marble tables, or pieces of decoration that could belong to a modern art museum. This place was modestly decorated, a worned-out couch and pallets working as a coffee table. The kitchen space, the dining room and the living room were the same room. Not as cramped as he would have imagined, but long enough to let each space differentiate itself. A small hallway led to the bathroom and where he imagined was the room, or rooms.

The small hallway lightened at the same time a door could be heard opening, surprising Jimin. For some reason he believed Namjoon lived alone. A girlfriend?

A really handsome man walked towards them. Medium bleach blonde hair, he was wearing a bright pink, fuzzy sweater with sequined black stripes, checkered shorts and fishnets, but what caught more his attention was the colorful makeup: turquoise eyeshadow running outside of the eyelid with a soft pink eyeshadow under the eyelid. Jimin had heard before how in District 7 colorful makeup was a staple, and he imagined that’s what Namjoon meant when he said he was going to make him “blend in”.

“This is Jin. He’s my… friend” Said Namjoon nervously. The tall boy laughed, sounding like a windshield, making Namjoon seem more nervous.

“Right, your ‘friend’” He walked in front of Jimin, showing him a medium-sized makeup bag. “Sit there, the lighting is better” Taking him towards the small dining table, he set down the bag next to the helmets.

“I’m Park Jimin, by the…”

“Of course I know who you are. Everyone here knows, and that’s why you’re here, to make you less you. What should we do?” He says, thoroughly looking at his face. “I like your eye color, is that natural? I’ve never seen a korean with naturally hazel eyes…”

“Sorry, he speaks a lot” Namjoon interrupted, sitting at the couch, clearly embarrassed at Jin’s antics. “He’s a stylist, so you’re in good hands” Jin nodded, feeling proud. “And no, Jin, those are clearly contact lenses”

Whatever Jin was doing to his face, Jimin could tell he was feeling in his element. He could only see brushes in front of his eyes, colors he wouldn't normally see in his side. Bright eyeshadows, glitters and eyeliners, a bunch of decorative pearls, rhinestones, gems and tiny fake colorful crystals.

“Done!” Jimin opened his eyes, Jin holding a mirror in front of him “What do you think?”

The makeup was bold. Purple eyeshadow with specks of sparkly blue eyeshadow in the middle and the corner of the eye. Long, black eyeliner starting at the middle of his eye, under the eye he had done glittery blue tears, decorated with different sized pearls and some crystals. Whatever this look was, Jimin was in shock looking at himself.

“I look… different” Jin laughed his windshield laugh again.

“That’s what i intended. If we’re taking you outside, you better not look like yourself. Now take out that jacket, we’re going drinking”

“NO, JIN, NO” Screamed Namjoon, getting up immediately “We’re only taking him around. That’s what he wanted”

Jin took away his stuff, going back to the room, looking slightly disappointed.

“Excuse him, we normally go out for drinks on Friday’s”

“We could go. I won’t drink, if it makes you more comfortable” Jin pops his head out of the room, smiling.

“You heard the kid. We can give him the tour of our lovely neighborhood if you want, but the three of us won’t fit on that motorcycle” Jimin takes off his jacket. He was wearing a short sleeved, bright pink satin shirt. Leather pants with lace up sides, and a long-sleeved fishnet undershirt. “Huh? Those are Yoon’s?”

“They’re the closest in size. He didn’t ask that much” Feeling satisfied with the answer, Jin opened the door.

“How should we call him?” Namjoon stopped in his tracks, staring confusedly at Jin. “We can’t introduce him by his name, how should we call him?”

“Uhm… what about Minnie?” Offers Jimin, feeling his face reddening. Jin smiles.

“Minnie sounds good. I’ll head straight to the club, you take him touring. Message me so I pick you both at the entrance”

🐇🐇🐇

When he had learned about District 7, Jimin had pictured a gray, sad-looking place, lost in time, like a city from the 2000s. Instead he was received by a colorful neon-filled place, a mixture of the last century with the high-tech of the 2100s. It was lively outside, mostly young people partying, couples hiding in alley’s illuminated in red. They seemed to live normally. none of the curfews he had read about.

Namjoon was driving slower, explaining a little about the history of some places, historical buildings that had survived the passage of time. Jimin knew that on his side of Seoul there had been historical buildings before, but they had been destroyed in favor of skyscrapers and highways, so seeing these buildings from centuries ago was fascinating.

“Shit” He heard Namjoon say under his breath. Jimin could see he was attempting a sudden U-turn. Staring ahead, he could see a bunch of men in motorcycles adorned with colorful led lights. Before he could complete the turn, a motorcycle stood in front of them, stopping Namjoon. The person on the motorcycle removed his helmet, the shield illuminated with leds that resembled a bunny face. The lights were glaring near his face, making Jimin unable to see his face. He could only see slightly long, messy hair, not as long as Jin’s, but still long.

“Long time no see, Namjoon. Thought you had ditched us for the fancy people”

“Fuck off, JK” Says Namjoon, his bodyguard instinct kicking in immediately, grabbing Jimin’s side, a sad attempt at hiding him. The young man in front leans his head to the side, trying to see the boy behind Namjoon.

“Where are you taking the whore?” Jimin could feel Namjoon tensing. Whoever this JK person was, apparently Namjoon didn’t like him.

“It’s not him, and don’t call him a whore. Ever” The boy gives a step to the front, making Namjoon grab Jimin harder.

“Well, he’s definitely not Jin, and he’s wearing that whore’s, sorry, HIS clothes” He says, pointing with his helmet towards Jimin, finally allowing him to see his face. He was striking.

“He’s just a kid that needed a ride. Now let us go, his mother is worrying...” Jimin gets up, forcefully removing Namjoon’s hand from is side, and takes off his helmet.

“I’m Minnie. I work in a house on the other side, Namjoon kindly gave me a ride because I couldn’t reach the subway on time. My mother is really worried, so if you could…” He could feel JK’s stare. Maybe he was bad news, based on Namjoon’s reaction, but there was something about him that attracted Jimin. He had a mysterious aura.

“Okay, take the fairy home” JK says with a smirk, getting his helmet on again. He makes a sign towards the group in front. “You’ll tell me later why he’s wearing that whore’s clothes” He revs up towards the group, leaving together.

“You shouldn’t have done that” Namjoon says coldly.

“He wouldn’t leave us alone, and you saw the size of that group?!” Namjoon revs up, not wanting to hear anymore. He was tense, driving angrily. Jimin was wondering if what put him on edge was the person or what he said. Back in their apartment, Jin had mentioned the clothes belonged to someone named Yoon, and that JK had said repeatedly he was a whore. Whatever it was, it had angered Namjoon a lot.

They stopped in front of a highly illuminated building. Loud music making the floor rumble, a long line outside. Jin spotted them immediately, signaling towards a spot Namjoon could park his motorcycle. Getting off from the motorcycle, They walked to where Jin was standing, on the other side of where the line was standing.

“Hobi already got us a table… What happened?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“JK” Jin made a sour face hearing the name. Whoever that person was, he was definitely no good news, Jimin concluded. They got inside. Loud electronic music pumping. People were dancing, kissing against walls, getting drunk out of their heads. They walked to a more secluded area. Namjoon plopped down immediately, Jin sitting next to him.

“Our friend Hoseok, Hobi, he owns this place. We get preferential treatment” Jin explains, taking a small tube out of his pocket. Opening it, he takes out some colorful pills, depositing them in Namjoon’s hand. “You look like you need them” He whispers on Namjoon’s ear. The taller man nods, staring ahead, behind the pink curtain dividing them from the rest of the club. Jimin pretended he didn’t see anything.

“JINNIE, JOON” A high voice screams on top of the music. A man with a bright heart shaped smile and auburn hair appears, holding a bottle on one hand. Pink tinted, hexagonal shaped glasses adorned his face. He was wearing a purple and cyan jacket, and some ridiculous looking sneakers.

“This is Minnie. He’s Joonie’s friend” Says Jin, taking the bottle out of his hands. “Minnie, he’s Hobi” Jimin waves his hand. The man smiles again.

“I love your makeup, I already know who the artist is” He says, pointing with his head at Jin. “Want something to drink, Minnie? It’s on me--”

“He doesn’t drink” Namjoon says immediately, interrupting him.

“You’ll keep Yoon company then. Jin, whatever you’re carrying, give me” Jin throws the small tube towards him. Hoseok takes a two pills out. “He’s been clean for almost two months, you know?”

“Funny how you say that while taking molly” Says Namjoon smirking.

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him”

Jimin was looking somewhere else. He knew what they were doing, but not staring gave him a sense of protection. He still was from a different world. He was just visiting. Tomorrow he would be back on his perfect palace. He didn’t feel that brave anymore.

“HERE!” He hears Hoseok’s high voice screaming. A blue haired boy gets into the area, bright pink eyeshadow draping, melting with a softer shade of pink blush and slightly red glossy lips. If Jimin was sure about something, is that everyone around here was obsessed with bright pinks. The boy was pretty, with chubby cheeks and a button nose. He looked quite thin, but not in a healthy way. His long sleeved, graphic black shirt making him look even smaller.

“That’s Minnie, Joon and Jin’s friend, he isn’t drinking tonight either. Sit with him” Says Hoseok at the blue haired boy, who nods in return. “Minnie, he’s Yoongi, my boyfriend” Hoseok says proudly. Jimin’s eyes widen. Boyfriend?! But that wasn’t allowed.

“The whore?” Says Jimin without thinking, the blue haired boy visibly flinching, stopping before sitting. Noticing his mistake, Jimin’s face reddens. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, really” He says rapidly.

“The clothes… they look good on you…” Says the boy timidly. Jimin didn’t know if that was his usual demeanor or his carelessness had broken him so fast.

“Please, sit” Says Jimin, trying to make amends with the boy, moving to the side. “I’m truly sorry. I spoke without thinking” The boy sits next to him, looking visibly uncomfortable. Hoseok was saying something to a waiter.

“Boys. I ordered water for both of you. Keep it cute” The other boy, Yoongi, nods. Jimin felt really bad, it was clear whatever mood he had arrived with, he had ruined it.

“Don’t worry about it… nothing I haven’t heard before” He says in a small voice, playing with the border of his sleeves. The other three were deep in conversation, completely ignoring the awkward pair next to them.

“How old are you…?” Jimin asks, trying to break the ice.

“21” The boy says quietly. Immediately grabbing the glass the waiter was giving him and drinking. Jimin grabs his with a ‘Thanks’.

“I’ll be 21 too in 5 days” Jimin says with a smile, trying to appear friendly. Yoongi just nods. Whatever chance he had at some sort of good time with the boy, he had ruined it completely. They sat there in silence for what felt an eternity. Whatever trance Yoongi was in, was broken the moment Jin took Namjoon’s hand, leading him towards the dancefloor. Hoseok stood too, visibly drunk, circling his arms around the smaller boy and kissing his neck.

“Dance with me” He whispers wetly against his neck, making Yoongi smile. He gets up and both follow the same path as the other couple. Being left alone, Jimin started reflecting on the biggest piece of information he had received in the last hour. In his world being gay was wrong, it was banned and penalized. Why they were so open and free about it. Didn’t they know what they were risking? What Namjoon was risking if that information ever leaked in the upper side?

Jimin felt someone looming over him. Turning behind him, Jimin is met with JK standing there. His handsome features more visible now.

“I suppose you gave a fuck about your mother after all, fairy” He sips from his bottle of beer. Jimin gets up, facing the taller man.

“You followed us?”

“Don’t think the world revolves around you, fairy. This is still a free country… Unless your father is thinking about removing more things from us” Jimin didn’t notice at which moment the man had cornered him to the wall. He knew.

“How…?”

“The other dumbfucks may be naive enought to not realize, or they’re just playing along for Namjoon” He grabs Jimin’s chin on between his thumb and his index finger. “Everyone knows your face. Your family is the reason we live like this” He lets go of his face. “But let me tell you something, fairy. You’re not like them. For some reason you decided to play dress-up and come see our misery. You’re above the pieces of shit you live with. Now you’ve seen, you can actually do something” He caresses his cheek. Jimin feels electricity running through his veins. JK turns towards the dancefloor. “Look at them. This is the only place we can be who we truly are” His fingers go down to his neck, whatever space between them was nonexistent. “No societal expectations” Jimin could feel his lips nibbling his ear. “No rules” Jimin closes his eyes. The close contact making feel things he had never felt before. “You belong here, fairy” And just like that, he goes away, leaving Jimin breathing heavily. Confused. Staring at the bodies dancing in between the colorful lights. The music in sync with his heartbeat.

Whatever had happened between them, he wanted more.

Next Chapter

#bts fic #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #park jimin #min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #kim taehyung #cyberpunk au #read the warnings #multichapter #play/destroy au #mature topics #strong language

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silence-burns · 6 years

Text

The Way //part 1

Fandom: Devil May Cry 5

Summary: “Imagine V having a crush on you.” by @thefandomimagine

Griffon flew overhead to check the rest of the street. The farther you went through the city, the more monsters seem to creep around the corners, just waiting for some poor unsuspecting idiots to consume. Shame those idiots had to be you.

“Do we really need to go this way?” you whined loudly, wiping the gore off your face.

“It's the shortest way,” Nero didn't seem disturbed a bit, marching ahead of you joyfully. He loved slaying monsters.

It was the lazies like V and you who preferred to stay in the back and let him do most of the job.

“Are you sure we can't take any backstreets?” you asked V quietly. “A few more fights and I'm gonna bathe in blood. My hair is already streaky, and I really wish I couldn't smell myself.”

“We'll see what Griffon reports back,” V said shortly, his cane clicking by his side.

You groaned.

He preferred not to elaborate on that. He was really grateful he got a good excuse to send Griffon away for some time. Griffon was useful when it came to unexpected fights, but he knew V too well and desperately (and foolishly) tried to set him up with you. His running mouth or a beak actually, was slowly becoming a problem.

V eyed you quickly. He was not the biggest fan of running around the city infested with so many monsters. He hasn't been losing breath yet, but he was not made for such forcing marches and sooner or later it would show. He'd rather bite off his tongue than ask for a break, though. Not when he had a chance to be so close to you without others (he glanced at Nero.) interfering.

You fished a few coins from your pocket.

“A penny for your thoughts?” you offered with a sly grin.

A brief smile crossed his lips. He accepted the coin with a theatrical bow.

“Your interest baffles me. I was just thinking how far will our friend lead us before he realises he doesn't know the way.”

“You could always help him,” you looked at V hopefully.

He tried to think of a good excuse not to admit that without Griffon's report, he was just as lost in this part of the city, but Nero's loud curse took your attention away.

You quickly jumped over some rubble and dead bodies to catch up with Nero. V followed.

“What's the-... Oh.”

You whistled. The street was completely blocked by a wicked, black mass of what looked like thick roots. They were moving slowly, sun gliding on their shiny, wet surface. There was no way of crossing through it.

“Seriously?” Nero sighed.

“Don't you think about cutting through it,” you warned him quickly. “We can use another street.”

Nero ignored you. “I'm pretty sure I could just cut a way-...”

“This is moving. I'm not going anywhere near it.”

“You'll be fine-...”

V shook his head. He still wasn't used to your daily dose of arguments with Nero.

“‘Precaution is better than cure’,” he quoted.

Nero turned to him with a deep frown. “WHAT?”

“V says let's Goethe out of here and I agree. Come on,” you patted their shoulders before turning back on your heels.

V and Nero looked at each other.

“Goethe? Seriously?”

V wore a proud smirk. “Some of us read.”

#dmc5 #dmc5 v #devil may cry 5 #v #v x reader #dmc v x reader #v x you #v/reader #v/you #dmc 5 v x reader #nero #dmc nero #dmc 5 nero #dmc 5 v x you #dmc 5 v/reader #dmc 5 v imagine #v imagine

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katvontea · 5 years

Link

"Would be a shame if I was sick."

Abortion clinic staffers and patient escorts watched in horror last weekend as anti-abortion protesters in North Carolina continued to gather in large numbers, hold hands, invade others’ physical space, and—in at least one instance I witnessed—joke about spreading the coronavirus while the government pleaded with people to do what they can to stop the spread of COVID-19.

And even now, they don’t plan to stay home.

The Triangle Abortion Access Coalition in Raleigh, North Carolina, met and continued our normal clinic defense and escorting services on Saturday, March 14, even though the realities and concerns of the rapidly developing COVID-19 outbreak were on our minds. We took extra precautions, such as sanitizing the vests and equipment we share.

We arrived to smaller numbers of protesters, took our normal positions, and began the morning as usual.

Many of the regular protesters began to arrive, and our hopes for physical distance began to diminish. A protester whom I’ll call Sally took a position by the clinic driveway, a spot allowing her to wave away cars. While this might seem like a minor disruption, rerouting patients from entering our private parking lot allows other anti-abortion protesters to confront the parked car and pass along a pamphlet or “blessing bag,” a gift bag filled with scripture, brochures for local anti-choice clinics, and often a single diaper, described by our protesters as a “diaper of remembrance.”

We often station a volunteer on that corner (but not in the protester’s immediate space), and task them with showing cars where to safely park to avoid anti-abortion harassment. This particular morning, a newer volunteer who can handle the direct harassment took the spot and stood stoically, ignoring the protesters and hoping to provide support and guidance to patients navigating a chaotic scene. Protesters will often move their bodies as close as possible to our volunteers, crying foul about their personal space being violated. Our volunteer was ignoring the taunts and holding ground as he has a right to do, especially when standing on clinic property.

I watched in shock as Sally pressed closer to this volunteer, a man in his late 60s or early 70s. The poster she carried was pressed against his arm, leaving her face eight to ten inches away from his face. Sally began to cough without covering her mouth in the direction of this volunteer, whose space she had already invaded.

“Would be a shame if I was sick,” she said, before coughing a few more times in the direction of a man who is clearly in the at-risk groups you hear about in the news.

It was 8:15 a.m. and already I was witnessing an unthinkable scenario: A “pro-life” protester was either making jokes about spreading COVID-19 or, even worse, was possibly trying to get us sick. While I’d like to say I was surprised by these actions, anti-choice protesters were once again demonstrating the true nature of their beliefs.

The morning had just begun and already we were facing an uncertain danger, one we had no guidance or advice on how to handle. We knew the worst was yet to come. Later that morning, a “prayer march” that often numbers between 50 and 100 people was expected to arrive. This group has turned out in large numbers in terrible weather, heat waves, and more. “Love Life,” as this protest movement calls itself, would be at our doorstep before we knew it.

Clinic escort groups across North Carolina faced the same problem. While Raleigh has a robust showing for the “Love Life” prayer marches, this is not a local movement. Love Life has roots in Charlotte, North Carolina, where their prayer marches have happened for years, often in ways that shut down physical access to the clinic. The protests have become so abusive they resulted in the city drafting a new sound ordinance to cut down on the disturbances created by these protests. Love Life expanded to Greensboro and Raleigh in 2018, and began organizing mass prayer marches across the state in 2019.

As our morning went on in Raleigh, escorts in Charlotte and Greensboro faced their own uncertainty created by anti-abortion protesters and the Love Life prayer marches.

In Charlotte, clinics were open as usual, and clinic escort groups were volunteering as usual.

Angela Anders, director of Charlotte for Choice Clinic Escorts, told Rewire.News she counted the anti-abortion group at well more than 100 people at its peak, and that the group was in no way practicing physical distancing: She said they were holding hands, forming prayer circles, and engaging in other forms of bodily contact (Love Life did not respond to Rewire.News‘ request for comment.)

Anders said the clinic escorts in Charlotte regularly witnessed people with symptoms of illness (sniffling, running noses, coughs) handing out pamphlets and sticking their hands and heads into stopped cars in an effort to “counsel” patients about their options and to share stigma and shame around abortion.

An hour away from Raleigh and two hours from Charlotte, another major metropolitan area was facing a similar reality. Greensboro has only one clinic regularly hounded by protesters. With a particularly rough clinic setup due to neighboring businesses allowing protests to occur on their property, protesters often divert and stop cars, shoving unwanted pamphlets and gift sacks into confused patients’ hands.

Volunteers in Greensboro had already been anxious about the effect of these intrusions on patients’ emotional health, but now these one-on-one interactions could spread a dangerous virus. Greensboro volunteers reported the anti-abortion group grew as large as 80 people this past Saturday, down from 400 the previous weekend. Despite the smaller numbers, volunteers said protesters were still shoving pamphlets into car windows and making direct contact with patients and their companions.

After our shift concluded this past Saturday, I checked out chatter from Love Life and other protester groups on their public social media accounts. What I found was not comforting. While I had been watching a protester in Raleigh cough in a clinic escort’s face, the leaders of Love Life were outside the Charlotte clinic, broadcasting on Facebook Live under the heading, “Bold Christians Witness despite coronavirus.”

In the Facebook Live video that morning, Love Life founder Justin Reeder asked one of the leaders of the Charlotte’s clinic protest movement, Daniel Parks, to speak to supporters who could not attend because they were sick or in an at-risk category. “With the fears of the virus, we have to use wisdom; we get that,” Parks said. But then he reminded them that they are “called as believers in Jesus to lay our lives down … and that involves risk.” He told listeners, “We have to look past the fear,” said protests would continue as long as the clinics remain open.

While I hoped Love Life might reconsider as the week went on, in a video posted to Facebook the morning of Thursday, March 19, Love Life confirmed they will continue to host prayer walks and “sidewalk outreach” as long as abortion providers remain open. Reeder, the Love Life founder, explained that this should be considered “essential and vital work,” not a social gathering.

“The ministry must go on,” he said, though he clarified that they planned to operate under the CDC recommendations, would split into “very small groups” to gather, and had spoken to the local police departments. And while Reeder told supporters to practice physical distancing, he also encouraged people to do “prayer walks” outside hospitals and nursing homes to pray for people vulnerable to COVID-19.

Our concerns are not only rooted in the risks these groups present to patients, staff, and volunteers at clinics but also to the risks they pose in their own communities—especially to the children that often get dragged along to the protests and are forced to share close quarters with people outside their immediate family, exposing them to COVID-19. And then there are the risks these folks bring back into their immediate communities. When sharing my frustrations with my friend and fellow volunteer Raquel, she said something that has stuck with me: “It speaks volumes about how not pro-life our protesters actually are when they still choose to come out in large numbers, despite all warnings and guidance from local and federal officials, endangering everyone in their own communities without a single moment of consideration.”

One of the most important roles we have as clinic escorts is doing what is needed for our most vulnerable and marginalized communities. Clinic escort groups are being faced with decisions they often don’t feel prepared to make. As the week progressed, we learned of more restrictions being put into place by our local and state governments, had emergency virtual meetings, and met with clinic staff.

Thankfully, the clinics are doing everything they can to support us. Clinics are stepping up and offering training in how to use protective gear like gloves and masks, offering sterilizing wipes and sprays to escorts to help keep common areas as clean as possible, and responding quickly when volunteer groups have questions or concerns. Despite all of this, some clinics have suspended escort services, and some clinic escort groups have suspended services on their own.

Anders in Charlotte and the volunteers in Greensboro said they’re taking many of the same steps we’re taking to stop the spread of COVID-19: monitoring the size and risks presented by our protester groups, increasing our own awareness around sanitizing shared equipment and shared vests, and encouraging volunteers who are at risk or folks who have had potential exposure to stay home. As a leader in the Raleigh clinic escort group, I scheduled a virtual check-in after our shift last Saturday and asked our clinics, which have the ear of local government and local law enforcement, to reach out to find out what can be done if protesters continue to gather in groups large enough to violate the statewide executive order banning gatherings of more than 100 people.

While we wait to learn more about what, if anything, can be done, it’s hard to ignore the anger and frustration that many of us who do this work are left with. We want to stay home. We want to keep our communities safe. We want to keep our families safe. We also want to keep ourselves healthy. I have no idea what this coming weekend will look like for our clinic escort team in Raleigh; I heard much the same from the organizers across the state. We are planning to operate on a skeleton crew, avoiding any spaces where protesters can get close enough to cause problems, and hoping our limited presence will be enough to keep the most abusive anti-abortion protester behavior at bay.

Over the coming weeks, our volunteer group may be preparing to head out into the world, or we may be sitting at home, anxious about what patients will face that day. No matter what, we hope abortion clinics stay open.

#north carolina #hows this for so-called pro life?#forced birth extremist #covid19 #covidー19 #corona virus #coronavirus #women's rights #abortion #pro-abortion #pro-choice #feminism #radfem #radical feminism

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