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onceuponastory · 2 years

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mama, we all go to hell - bucky barnes

She said, "You ain't no son of mine!" For what you've done, they're Gonna find a place for you And just you mind your manners when you go.

Plot: “Do you miss your mother, Mister Barnes?” // Or, Bucky’s therapist asks him to write his mother a letter, explaining the last seventy years of his life. Warnings: Mentions of Bucky’s past as The Winter Soldier. Everything he did as TWS or had done to him by HYDRA is mentioned or implied, as is Bucky’s current mental state. But also mentions of death/murder, blood, violence, nightmares and of his time as a soldier. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is for @whumptober Day 14: Die a Hero or Live Long Enough to Become a Villain and it’s based on the song Mama by My Chemical Romance, which is one of my fave songs ever, and I think it fits Bucky perfectly. You can listen to it here.

“Do you miss your mother, Mister Barnes?” Bucky Barnes’ therapist asks him one day. The question cuts through Bucky like a knife. For a moment, it even stuns him into silence. She’s never asked something like this. This is new and unexpected. Ever since he left HYDRA and became a member of the Avengers, Bucky has had to attend weekly court mandated therapy appointments every Tuesday afternoon at 2.30pm sharp to make sure that he’s acclimating well to his new life and to his new mind. And every week, it’s the same questions: how are you doing, how are the nightmares, how’s the guilt, how many murders did you dream about, and so on. Each week, the questions are repeated. Of course, Bucky knows what they really want from him by asking those questions. Everyone tries their best to hide it, but he’s been alive enough to know when someone is bullshitting him. They hope that by shoving him into these appointments every week, he’ll atone for his past enough that he won’t go on a killing rampage again. And then they can all pat themselves on the back for a job well done. Acting as if a past like his, or a brain like his, can be fixed with just talking about it and feeling bad. No fucking chance.

It’s not that Bucky doesn’t want to feel better and come to terms with what he’s done. Of course he does. He’s not the monster he was anymore, and he wants people to know that. Sure, people have started calling him Sergeant again, which is nice. It’s still taking him a while to accumulate to it, but he still appreciates it. But a good interaction like that is not always the case. In fact, most of Bucky Barnes’ interaction with people is just them staring at him. Of course, he’s the first to admit he has a staring problem, but it’s not nice to be on the receiving end of one. The people’s facial expressions vary. Of course, he gets people who recognise him as an Avenger, and they smile and wave at him. Although Bucky still isn’t used to those kinds of interactions, he enjoys them, and hopes he’ll experience more like them. Even if deep down, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Not after a past like his, and the things he’s done. He’s not a hero. He never was.

Some people frown and whisper to their friends and family, wondering where they recognise him from, and if he’s the person they’re thinking of. The Soldat. Of course, practically everyone knows by now that Bucky’s been pardoned and isn’t the Soldat anymore…but that doesn’t lessen the pain for him, or for anyone else. He knows it’s not his fault either, and he’s glad to finally do some good in the world for once by being an Avenger. But you try telling one of his victim’s family members that their murderer is both walking free, and is a member of one of the most revered group of superheroes in the world and see how it goes.

Whenever people stare at him like that, Bucky always has to turn his face away, just in case they say something to him. In case a “Hey, didn’t you kill my cousin?” or words to that effect interrupt his shopping trip, or his simple mid morning walk. In case Bucky’s attempt for peace and respite are torn away from him once more.Those kinds of looks sting, but the worst looks are the blank stares. The faces who Bucky swears don’t even blink, because they’re trying to wrestle with years of torment and pain. Pain caused by him.

And then, if that wasn’t enough, there’s the nightmares. Every night, he sees someone else, their face twisted with fear or pain as they stare down the barrel of Bucky’s gun. He barely knows their name or why he was sent after them, but that doesn’t matter. Their screams as they beg for their lives are more than enough to haunt him. So, of course Bucky wants to atone for what he’s done. He just wishes it wasn’t so damn hard. In all honesty, Bucky Barnes just wants it all to stop. The pain, the guilt, the nightmares, the stares, the whispers. Everything. But Bucky knows that he and his brain are far too screwed up to be ‘fixed’, despite how much everyone keeps telling him what a good job he’s doing, and how with time and patience he’ll be back to his old self in no time. Bucky just thinks they’re patronising him when they talk to him like that. Or maybe they’re just genuinely trying to help, and he’s just being an asshole. The asshole it seems that he’s always destined to be. Sometimes, Bucky thinks that it’s pointless trying to rehabilitate him. Maybe he’s just too broken to be fixed.

So that’s Bucky Barnes’ life. Avengers stuff, a mound of guilt, a lot of nightmares, and a therapy appointment every week. Same old, same old.

Until one week, it all changes, and his therapist asks him if he misses his mother on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. “Mister Barnes? I asked you a question.” Bucky doesn’t know what to say when she speaks again. All he can do is frown in confusion. What sort of question is that? Obviously he misses his mother. He’s not seen her in at least eighty five years.

“Of course I do.” The therapist nods and writes something in her little notebook. Bucky always wonders what she’s writing, and this time is no different. She opens her mouth to ask another question, but before she can, Bucky interrupts her with a “Why?” His therapist smiles, chuckling slightly. Judging by the tone of her laughter, Bucky braces himself for what’s coming next.

“I thought it would be beneficial for you to write her a letter, or to just imagine yourself talking to her.”

“And say what, exactly? She’s been dead for about eighty five years.”

“There you go then.” She announces, gesturing to him with a smile. “You’ll have plenty to talk to her about.” Obviously seeing the look of bewilderment on Bucky’s face, she sighs. “Look. Plenty of people look to their mothers for support, and I’m told that the relationship you had with your mother was incredibly close before you went to war.” Ah yes. When Bucky went off to fight and lost everything. To this day, Bucky swears that his true self never came back from that war, and that a part of him died on that HYDRA experimentation table. Although sometimes he wishes that all of him had died, and that he wouldn’t be this shell of a human instead, walking through life on autopilot. Of course, he hasn’t told his therapist that. Bucky simply nods. “And that is why I’d like you to write your mother a letter for our next appointment.” His therapist continues, and Bucky gasps.

“You’re giving me homework now, doc?” He asks, forcing out a chuckle to hide the fact that this is the last thing he wants to do. Because how the fuck is this supposed to help him feel better about his past? He worries enough about what everyone else thinks about him. The last thing he needs is to imagine his mother’s reaction to his bloodstained past. His therapist sighs.

“Look, Mister Barnes, I know this isn’t exactly an ideal task for you, but I really think this could be beneficial in your recovery. After all, it’s obvious that you love your mother dearly, so getting all of your past out and written on paper, and then imagining her reaction to it could help you deal with your feelings. And it should help you find ways to work around them.” She continues, and Bucky has to bite his tongue to stop another witty remark from coming out, even though he knows there’s no way this will help, or that he’ll even do it.

However, his therapist's words, and the task she set, continue to play on his mind for the rest of the day, and well into the evening and night. As he gets ready to sleep (or at least, try to sleep), Bucky glances at his fridge, where a photo of him and Steve from their war days hangs. In all honesty, Bucky doesn’t know who or where Steve got the picture from, but he’s glad to have a positive connection to his past. As he looks at it, a pang strikes his heart. He and Steve were so innocent back then, and so unaware of what they were getting into. More often than not, Bucky wishes he never went to war at all. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be standing here, trying to make amends for his bloodstained past, something that seems less and less likely as time goes on.

“Writing a letter to my mom will help fix all my messes.” Bucky mutters with a scoff. “Yeah, right.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that night, Bucky awakes with a start after yet another nightmare. Groaning, he turns on the small lamp beside him, illuminating the room in a soft glow. “Why did I even bother trying to sleep?” Bucky grumbles as he yawns. “This always happens.” The clock on the wall opposite him reads just before 2.30am. At least he got an extra hour this time. Groaning, Bucky gets up, making himself yet another cup of coffee, his early morning routine already ingrained in his brain. Hopefully, there’s a good movie on TV to distract him. However, as he sips the strong liquid in his mug, Bucky’s mind once again drifts to his therapist’s words.

“Getting all of your past out and written on paper, and then imagining her reaction to it could help you deal with your feelings. And it should help you find ways to work around them.” Even though something like this is the last thing Bucky wants to do, with a sigh, he realises he doesn’t really have a choice. He does want to make amends and get better, so if this is how he has to do it, then so be it. And besides, his therapist might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but she can be pretty convincing when she wants to be. If all else fails, at least he has a way to pass the time. So, Bucky pulls out a piece of paper, and writes:

“Dear Mom, I haven’t really spoken to you in a while. The last time I saw you was about eighty five years ago. But there are some things you should know.” Across the top of the page. And with that, Bucky thinks back to his past.

Mama, we all go to hell Mama, we all go to hell I'm writing this letter and wishing you well Mama, we all go to hell

Oh well now, Mama, we're all gonna die Mama, we're all gonna die Stop asking me questions, I hate to see you cry Mama, we're all gonna die

“Firstly, I went to war, so I hope you’re proud of me. Especially because I saw far too much pain and suffering, enough for a lifetime. Steve went to war too, despite his habits of getting into trouble and getting sick. You were always worried about us and the trouble we were getting into. But god, you should see him now though, mom. He joined a government program, and they injected him with some kind of serum and turned him into this super powered soldier. Captain America, they call him now. He was a big part of the fight during the war, and now he’s part of a group called the Avengers, and they fight to save the world even more. Can you believe that? Little Stevie, the kid with the scraped knees you cleaned in our kitchen, is now a Captain, and a superhero.”

And when we go don't blame us, yeah We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah You made us oh so famous; We'll never let you go And when you go don't return to me my love

Mama, we're all full of lies Mama, we're meant for the flies And right now they're building a coffin your size Mama, we're all full of lies

Bucky glances down at his metal arm, the gold and black shining in the limited light. He’s incredibly grateful to T’Challa and the Wakandans for his new arm. Despite that though, Bucky remembers how it used to look…and how much blood used to stain it, how much still stains it, even now. With a sigh, Bucky almost considers abandoning the project. But then, he remembers how much he wants the pain to stop. And so, he continues writing. “I’ve changed a lot, too.”

Well mother what the war did to my legs and to my tongue. You should have raised a baby girl I should've been a better son If you could coddle the infection They can amputate at once You should've been I could have been a better son

And when we go don't blame us, yeah We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah You made us oh so famous; We'll never let you go

“Well firstly, I have a new arm. It’s made of metal, and it’s…been with me through a lot. I lost it because I fell off a train. I know, I know, it was dumb to be up there. But I was doing it to help Steve. I was one of his Howling Commandos, helping him save the world. Oh mom, you should’ve seen it, me and Steve working together, just like old times. You would’ve loved it.” With another sigh, Bucky glances back at his metal arm. “I just wish it lasted longer than it did.” Before he continues writing, Bucky takes another moment to prepare himself. Because now, it’s time to talk about the Soldat.

“I wasn’t always a Howling Commando though. Before Steve found me, I was kidnapped by HYDRA, the enemy, and experimented on. They actually gave me a serum too, and I became like Steve…even though we didn’t know it at first. When I fell off the train, whatever they gave me helped survive the fall. And then HYDRA found me again, and wiped my memories of you, dad, Steve, my friends…everyone I ever knew and loved was gone.” Taking a deep breath and wiping his eyes, Bucky takes a moment to prepare himself to relive the worst times of his life. Or at least, the parts of it he can remember. Again, the thought of getting up and walking away crosses his mind. But just as he gets up, he thinks of finally being free from this torment. Even if this is just the start of his repentance, if it has to be done, then it has to be done. So, Bucky sits back down, and after another deep breath, he continues to write.

She said, "You ain't no son of mine!" For what you've done they're Gonna find a place for you And just you mind your manners when you go.

And when you go don't return to me my love, That's right

“After HYDRA found me and wiped my memories, they turned me into an assassin. They used me to exterminate anyone who spoke out about them or challenged them, anyone who saw what they weren’t to see.” Bucky sniffles, big tears rolling down his cheeks. “I killed so many people, mom, and ruined so many lives. So many families were destroyed because of me. I’m not your son anymore. I’m a monster.” His tears are starting to stain the paper, but he keeps writing. “Even though they brainwashed me, I still did it, so it is my fault. If you were still alive, you’d hate me. Everybody else does, even Steve. He never tells me, but I know he does. After all, I almost killed him, too. But after everything I��ve done, a part of me thinks I deserve to be hated. I put so many people through so much pain and suffering. So it’s more than fair I go through it too, right? Mine has to be worse, though.” With a sigh, Bucky leans back, looking outside the window at the pitch black sky outside. “Although sometimes, I think living with the nightmares that I have is enough suffering.”

Mama, we all go to hell Mama, we all go to hell It's really quite pleasant except for the smell Mama, we all go to hell

Mama, Mama, Mama, ohhhh Mama, Mama, Mama, ohhhh

“Now though, I’m going to therapy for what happened. That’s why I’m writing to you, actually. My doc thought it would be beneficial to me if I explained everything that happened to you, because we were close. And hopefully, you’d understand. However, I don’t think you would. You raised me to be good, and to be better than this monster I’ve become. A former shell of myself. Actually, the therapy isn’t really for my benefit. They keep telling me that, but I can tell they’re lying. Just like how I could always tell when pops was lying about how sick you were. Remember that, mom?” Bucky furiously wipes at his eyes, cursing that he can’t get the tears to stop. “They keep acting like the therapy is to bring the old me back and to help me heal, but I know the truth. It’s because they’re too scared to let me back into society, in case I go on another murderous rampage. And the sad thing is I don’t even blame them. In all honesty, I don’t even think I’m healed, either. I’m terrified of becoming a killing machine again. I wish I could bring the old Bucky, your Bucky, back more than anything, but I think I’m too far gone. I think a part of me died on that train.”

And if you would call me a sweetheart I'd maybe then sing you a song But the shit that I've done with this fuck of a gun You would cry out your eyes all night

“Deep down, a part of me hoped this assignment would work, that it would help me bring back my old self and finally heal. But it’s not working. I’m sorry, mom. Sorry that I’m such a fuck up and such a monster. If you were still alive, you’d be so disappointed in me. It’s okay, though. I’m disappointed in myself enough for us both.” Bucky’s sure his writing is indiscernible through his tears by this point, but he knows he’s almost done. And then, he never has to think about the effect it has on his mother ever again. So, he gives one last push.

We're damned after all Through fortune and flame, we fall And if you can stay then I'll show you the way To return from the ashes you call

We all carry on When our brothers in arms are gone So raise your glass high for tomorrow we die And return from the ashes you call

“So yeah. That’s what I’ve been up to recently - trying desperately to make amends for what I’ve done, even though deep down I know it’s impossible, no matter how much I try and try. I’m just too broken to be fixed. I’m no longer just James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. I’m the Soldat, a monster, a nightmare. And that’s what I’ll always be. I’m sorry I let you down, mom. I hope you can forgive me wherever you are.

Love, Bucky.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

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#whumptober2022 #no.14 #Die a Hero or Live Long Enough to Become a Villain #buckybarnes #fic #the winter soldier #trauma #blood #violence #death #murder #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic

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soufsidesiren · 11 months

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blog entry 7: the discipline of rest

it's been two tomorrows since my last entry. i spent monday morning cooking and baking off my 5lb zucchini baby. training at the studio went well in the afternoon. there wasn't really anything in the studio yet so it was brief, but i made a new antiquing friend in my coworker. she's a retired southern woman whose family has lived in this town for generations. after our training, she took me over to this old house and shed turned vintage and antique marketplace and there are sooooo many trinkets. i love anyone who respects and appreciates a good quirky trinket. we've already got plans to go to the monthly antique market together next month. it feels like i've unlocked a vintage shopping infinity stone.

i had plans to head to the city after training, but a headache and my body's strong desire for rest led me back home. as all of the things i have been waiting to accomplish come to fruition slowly but surely. i have been fighting the old feelings that my dreams have to come at the expense of my own well-being. from high school to college into my first full time job i was always exhausting myself and using that exhaustion as an indicator of my success. these days my rest has been a privilege that i have come to know very well. as i am called into action, i am actively working on the communication between my mind and body to shift that privilege into an intentional practice. rest as a strong discipline. a choice. a priority. i am my best self when creating from a rested body and mind and as i enter into life as a full-time artist having access to a full rested creative center is really important.

tuesday i headed into the city. stopping at my new favorite coffee shop for a warm matcha and quick conversation. another connection made across the counter with a community organizer looking for arts instructors to provide educational events for the black queer community in atlanta. we exchange info. another seed sown.

my day at the station is productive. i glaze, trim, and throw a couple pieces. and finally get the ball rolling on my first classes for next month which starts with a couple calls to the ceramic supply center for a quote on the materials i need to start firing the kiln. i leave the station when my body has had enough. just in time to catch the beginning sunset on my ride home. i watch sun tuck in for the night and the thinnest silver of the moon hang between the oranges and blues from my sunroof in the parking lot of steak and shake. belly full. i head to the farmers market to grab some fresh veggies for the week. i've learned to never shop on an empty stomach. i opt for the evening murmur of the after-work shoppers between aisles over my usual curated playlist and headphone combo. a young boy explores the sugar cane, thai bananas, and curious root vegetables with his mother. "what's this ma? can we try it? so this is like a green stick of sugar? how come they don't have this at kroger?" his mother happily accepts each new curious addition to the cart. "just know that you are gonna have to share this with everyone when we get home" i admire her willingness to let him explore. i am remind of my weekend trips to the farmers market with my grandmother. where i learned all the new ways that foods and flavors could exist. the ride home is dark, quiet, and winding. i open the windows and listen to the woods fly by. the plastic bags in the truck rustle from the wind. i come home to my parents and a warm home. settle into a small bowl of soup and tuck in rather early. until tomorrow.

#frontporchprojects #dailyblog

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chemicalpink · 3 years

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Young Gods ❈ KNJ, JJK

❈ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook

❈ Genre: smut, f2l kinda, but also s2l, fantasy!au, fluff if you squint, gods!au, wizard/witch!au

➛ Part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade hosted by @jamaisjoons

❈ Rating: 18+

❈ Wordcount: 4.2k

❈ Warnings: it is jungkook centric, it does have a somewhat heavy plot, double penetrative sex, magical sex, teasing, slightest corruption kink.

❈ Summary: Legend has it that if you were to walk all the way up to Hallasan, and if the land is welcoming enough, you should be able to see the most beautiful lake where it is rumoured to home the most powerful being the world has ever had the pleasure to meet, so when young warlock Jungkook starts having trouble with his magic, who could blame him for travelling all the way there in hopes of finding answers only to be met with the hottest man he’s ever seen. and really, who could blame him for fostering the biggest crush on him without saying a word for ages? that is, until y/n, a long lost friend of Namjoon shows up. so really, who is he to blame if he lets the two greatest beings in existence use him for their pleasure?

❈A/N: SHE'S HERE. GOD THIS TOOK A WHILE. Please enjoy! ALSO, banner by @jamaisjoons, I do believe the only thing that keep me writing this was the banner lol. Do tell your thoughts on this bad baby, I was heading towards a larger fic but I didn't have time yet magical au is most definitely there for future fics.

The first time Jungkook realised just how powerful he was, he was fifteen years old, although his mother can recall him being around four and being able to master a potion that most common-born non-royal witches could only hope to get mediocre at once trained at their young twenties. Of course, his magic had soon become taboo around the village, having to hide himself behind years of his father’s training, his lineage a bit closer to royalty, not quite, but just enough for his son’s magic to pass as his own. If his customers notice how better his spell jars or potions get once Jungkook turns eighteen, they sure don’t comment on it. Not that they would be able to tell that the family was hiding a master of the magical arts that could rival the country’s most powerful witch in the blink of an eye. Those were just rumours going around, as far as the Jeon’s were concerned.

“Son, I believe it is about time you get some proper practice on your magic” his father mentioned bypassing one Sunday night as they both locked up the store. He turned to hi, somewhat confused.

“Look if this is about Seojun noona’s elixir being more powerful than it usually is I swear it was a rightful mixture, my trial was right beside her actual one and she entered the shop sooner and-”

His dad shakes a hand dismissively at him, rounding the counter into the small storage room, coming back in sight with a leather-bound book in between his hands, calloused fingers roaming the antique-looking pages “I am not quite sure how much truth an old man like your grandfather could hold, but it wouldn’t hurt to try” he turned the yellowing book towards him, fast and almost undescribable scribbles decorating the paper as he squinted down at it, his father handling the energy in it to make the content quite literally come to life, a storytelling spell all too familiar to him from his young age.

“Dad, you know I absolutely love bedtime stories, but I’d say I’m quite a bit too old now for-” before he can even think about finishing the sentence, a mountain comes into view, alive straight from the book’s pages, standing tall and proud dressed in green, almost touching the sky, a magical aura surrounding it, one that he could even feel just by looking at it “What’s that?”

“The old man used to tell me stories about an ancient being, the most powerful of them all, living on top of Hallasan” the pages turn by themselves, the image changing to a faceless man, standing almost as tall and proud as the mountain itself, performing all types of magic, some of them Jungkook himself hadn’t even heard of “Legend says he was outcasted by royalty in fear of revolution, wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for he is a child of Earth herself”

“I-I don’t think I’m following”

His father sighs loudly before his magic shuts the book closed, all magic gone on a whim “Jungkook, whatever this man was, if my father was right and he really did exist, you might be like him”

“But-but I was born of both you and mum” he couldn’t quite yet fathom the extension of his own magic, much less think about the probability of being more powerful than any other being that had walked the Earth in millennia. Even if the man was real, would he even be alive still? If he was as powerful as he was presumed to be, would he even take Jungkook under his wing? What if he wasn’t as lucky as the man from the book and word got out and his life was endangered?

“Jungkook just think about it, you might be a child of the Earth”

“What if I don’t want to be” he couldn’t quite face his father, feeling his own heartbreak as the older man deflated. Jungkook knew that perhaps his dad had entertained the idea of his only son being a creature out of a legendary book, could feel how proud it would make him, for Jungkook to be a hero, make history with the power he presumably held within, yet he couldn’t help but feel like a small child again, afraid at the uncertainty that the future could hold. “I- I’m good with just running the shop and helping you and mother out with stuff”

His father sighed before placing a gentle hand on his shoulders, a small act that made him feel even more like a child, one getting subtly scolded by his parents as they prepare him for his inevitable future. “Jungkook-ah, your mother and I- all we really want for you is to live your own life”

His ears perk up, gaze facing forward as he catches his mother standing with her arms crossed over her body, the softest motherly look on her face “And if that means for my baby to go find himself at some faraway place, then so be it” she comes to join his father by his side, both of them bracing each other as the thought of their child growing up simmers down on them. “We just want you to grow up to your full potential Kookie”

.-.-

It had taken quite some convincing for him to completely make up his mind, the negging looks from his father as he helped around the shop, the longing yet scolding gaze his mother held over dinner until he found himself preparing a small bag for the long trip– almost burning inside his mind the map contained in his grandfather’s grimoire from the many times he had read over what he once thought to be a legend out of a children’s storybook.

The trip itself wasn’t as difficult as it was troublesome, having to hike up the highest mountain in the land, the difficult part–if the Jeon’s memories were anything to go by– was having the Hallassan land spirit to like you enough to show itself, even a step further to have the legendary witch to show his home.

For quite some time Jungkook entertained the idea of the immense possibilities on how the wizard could look, every possible image popping up in his head some variation of a wrinkly old man hunched over himself, staff in hand and he couldn’t help but laugh soundly at it, picturing himself getting nagged at by such a figure, perhaps he would end up looking like one of those old scholars that came to his village from time to time. But how wrong was he.

It took him three days, two cold sleepless nights in the woods and running in circles for at least two hours in the nothingness that was the top of the mountain for the valley to show up right where he had started to venture– he could almost hear the forest spirits snickering at him. He really tried to be angry at it, almost went back down just out of spite, yet the clearing before him had him doing a double-take, the space was bright and clear, none of the trees from before on sight, the small dipping in the middle of it leading to a sort of entrance– this was what he came for.

Jungkook had been raised better than what he found himself doing– walking into a stranger’s house uninvited. Was it really uninvited if after knocking for a few minutes the door opened on its own?

He walks inside, small steps, unsure of himself, his past resolve crumbling down completely as he walks further in where he listens to a hushed voice coming from his left, a mop of silvery hair turned away from him, green warm clothes cradling the figure, Jungkook entertains the idea of an old man still, yet not so much hunched over himself if the deep hushed voice and the hair colour was anything to go by. “...Now where did I last see-”

"Hello-"

"Oh! great timing! the pay is where it always is" broad shoulders are still facing him as the man moved around, a couple of won bills on the counter where he had waved his hand dismissively, not even bothering to turn around, for a legendary creature perhaps leaving his home door open was a recurrent thing, what with the whole clearing hidden from the public eye and all.

"Oh I'm not-" he had tried to make himself knows as definitely not the person he was expecting yet the man kept mumbling to himself, apparently in deep thought at whatever it was

""—So then if we are able to move this around we should -" he had started moving around the room, still not facing Jungkook directly, just pointing to places around the spacious room as his free hand busied itself with picking books from the humongous shelf against the wall

"I'm- uh" his hands couldn’t be still, grasping at the bag over his shoulder, knuckles almost white as he clears his throat "I'm not-"

"Did you forget where-" the man turns around and Jungkook feels whatever little poise he had gained leave him in the spot, right in front of him is the most legendary creature in existence, recorded alive for millennia, a god in more ways than one, no old man in sight but the prettiest human he had laid eyes on, fierce sight set on him awkwardly hanging at the entrance as the man keeps blinking at him "uh"

He bows down almost instinctively, 90 degrees, hair falling onto his eyes as he does so "Mister sir- uh keeper of Hallasan"

"You aren't Soobin"

"Uh.. no I'm not"

The man doesn’t even flinch at the information of a stranger setting a foot inside his house, deep voice calm as ever as he asks "How did you even get in?"

"Uh the door was open" he points to the door in a futile attempt for it to not make it seem like he was the weirdo picking locks or something at a magical creature’s home

"No it wasn't" he moves to the door in the most graciously way he has ever seen someone do it, almost gliding across the floor, eyes never leave him except for the brief second where his hand tries the doorknob "huh it was. Weird"

It took the man less than a minute after his initial shock to turn to Jungkook and invite him in, a pair of teacups resting against the table as they seated parallel to each other, him crossing his legs in a nonchalant manner as Jungkook couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat– he certainly never thought he could come this far.

“So what can I do for you, Jeon Jungkook?” if he absolutely preened at the way that his name sounded in the stranger’s mouth, that was certainly something only for him to know.

The words died right on his tongue. There were certainly a lot of things the beautiful man seating across from him could do, none of them necessarily involving what he had initially come for, yet as the words take meaning inside his mind, he seems to short circuit yet again “I uh- you know- you know my name?”

He smiles a big smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, dimples showing and a heat simmering inside Jungkook’s belly “I know a lot of things, Jungkook” he stares off into space “Social skills are rusty, but they come back after getting a good look at you” Jungkook’s eyes must widen at the implication of his words. Could he read minds? Could he take a look into souls? “Just general stuff about you, don’t worry about it”

The man could definitely read minds.

Blink if you’re hearing this. The man blinks and Jungkook feels like fleeing. Wait. Everyone blinks, stupid. Perhaps some other time.

He somehow finds his voice, remembering the lingering question, the sole reason for him to be there “Mister Hallasan keeper, sir”

“Namjoon is fine”

“Mister Namjoon-ssi”

“Namjoon hyung”

Jungkook is sure this time his brain shortcircuits for real, for this complete stranger. Namjoon he corrects himself, to give him permission to call him so affectionately after only a few minutes of knowing him. After technically breaking- not breaking into his home.

Smile if you’re reading my mind. Namjoon smiles, something doesn’t sit right with him, he could very well be reading his mind, or simply smiling out of politeness at the extended silence Jungkook had caused, again. I’m onto you Mister Hallasan Keeper. Namjoon just smiles more fondly at him.

Jungkook goes on explaining his situation, from his rapid magic learning to being unable to wield his magic, to his father even suggesting that he could have been born from the Earth herself, just like Namjoon did all those millennia ago. The blond man restricts himself to listen to Jungkook speak, gaining a serious pose when he drops the reason for his visit, asking him for help. Jungkook’s almost sure he will deny it as he goes on to explain how his last magical apprentice had been there almost sixty years ago, going on about how he is pretty much a loner, no reason more than a brief excuse of being an outcast for practice differences with the village where Jungkook comes from, giving it a few seconds of thought before he accepts to have Jungkook under his wing, going as far as to give him a spare bedroom to sleep in along with the longest set of rules he had ever heard of.

Months with Namjoon look something more or less like this: waking up at 6 am sharp– something Jungkook had never done in his life, the first few times he had woken up later than that, it was almost impossible to know where his teacher had gone to. Have a rundown on the day’s activities and breakfast until 7. Jungkook was in charge of gardening on the 30-minute window of Namjoon harvesting for the spells he was due to make for the day. An hour of light reading– he knew better than to comment on how a thousand pages book was most definitely not light reading, but he did it anyway. He would then shadow Namjoon on whatever mystical task he had to do for the day before finishing up with him running basic high-level training with Namjoon’s guidance in the clearing– Namjoon had said that the Hallasan spirit would keep him safe and sound if he were to screw up, although so far all the spirit and her friends in the forest had done was laugh at his mistakes.

Five months in it, the whole routine came as second nature, he couldn’t even picture a day without Namjoon on it, not that there was anyone else that could pick up on the energy shift within it, Jungkook had learnt a lot from his teacher, not only in the magic department but about him as a person, couldn’t hide the lingering eyes, the curious touches of skin, every bit of information about Namjoon expanding that fondness feeling inside his heart, Namjoon was a man of habit, a powerful one at that, yet all those millennia living couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook could see right through him, a lonely soul, as powerful as none other, yet so inherently say. Not even the whole power in the universe could keep him away from his own greatest danger: himself.

If you can read minds, kiss me. The kiss never came so perhaps Namjoon could never even read minds in the first place.

Now here’s the thing, Jungkook might be a mess when it comes to magic, but not so much at hiding his feelings, at least the best he could, Namjoon was as intelligent as men come and he had yet to notice. Namjoon’s friend that just happens to show up on a particularly lazy day– his teacher had said his magic tends to run out from time to time and would rather rest it; perhaps not so much.

Jeon Jungkook is a weak man. A weak man for beautiful things, like Namjoon, or you. Who just happened to walk inside Namjoon’s home like you owned the place– could he count it as his home too yet?

He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of him as soon as you introduced yourself, and perhaps he was imagining the way your eyes grazed over his figure before going to tease Namjoon, not that he stopped having heart eyes for the man when you walked in, he had enough heart eyes for the both of you, even if he had to keep them to himself. You were easier to warm up to than Namjoon if it was anything to go by, smoothly falling into conversation after you three had sat down for tea, walking up to Namjoon’s massive library, picking out books from their shelves as you asked him about his upbringings.

“The Jeon family? Oh, dearest, your grandfather was as good as wizards come” his brain cuts short as soon as the words leave your mouth, just how exactly could you have known the old man? The old wizard was presumably thrown out of the royal house for being unfit for ruling over the land. You playfully push your elbow against Namjoon “And I say this while knowing Joonie”

The blond man groans at your teasing.

“You-you knew my grandpa?”

“Yeh, such a shame he decided to be a mortal” Your initial interest seems to diminish as you turn to face the books yet again, a particular red cover catching your attention.

“What”

Jungkook faintly hears Namjoon standing up from his chair to try and get in between his conversation with you, although all he hears seems to come as if the voices were kept under cotton inside his ears “Y/N you’re overwhelming the kid”

For such a calm and collected posture, he had maintained not only while learning with Namjoon but back at home too, hearing such a word coming out of him really tips the glass “I’m not a kid! Why is everyone always treating me like a child!” surely it did seem rather childish to have an outburst like that, yet his mind couldn’t help but reel in all those other times in his stay where Namjoon had dismissed him from helping, saying it was a rather complicated spell you should wait this one out Jungkook. Or something along the lines of when you get stronger. It did seem the type of things one would say to their petulant child.

“Jungkook waits” Namjoon groans as he retreats to his assigned room, you can’t help the softness inside you at the way that strong independent loner Namjoon reacts to his apprentice being pissed off, certainly a first.

“You pissed off the kid” your remark isn’t that much well digested as Namjoon throws a dagger-like glare your way, groaning as he throws his head back against the couch

“Why am I parenting again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you offer him a tight lip smile, you had heard a lot about Jungkook even before you had walked inside the wizard’s home, like a reader of a slow-burning love story, you knew that ‘parenting’ was most definitely not the dynamic in his relationship with the younger, not with the way Namjoon had described the little mannerisms of his apprentice, or the way that he described his figure as the strongest back I’ve ever seen with such a tiny waist when he sent you a letter asking you to visit him.

The thing with the dynamic you had with Namjoon had been one going on for hundreds of years, feeding off of the magic that only such powerful creatures like you and him could conjure, effective yet dependent as when either of you two was in dire need of a boost, you would have to pay him a visit to work your magic. Jungkook hadn’t appeared after his little outburst, probably hidden in his room, taking only a few minutes of Namjoon glancing expectantly at the place where the younger had disappeared before you dragged him towards his room in an all too practised manner.

The whole environment was always on the calm side whenever you two get to it, something along the lines of strictly business, yet an undeniable connection between the two. Namjoon had you against his door, a dimly lit lamp on his desk, strong hands holding you in place at your waist as he leaned down to connect both of your mouths, eyes fluttering shut as he did so. Your hands found themselves tangled in his blond tousled hair in no time as he deepened the kiss, moving the both of you towards the bed as magic started glowing dimly within you two, connecting and feeding off of the spark of the situation, magic so profound and delicate that only immortal beings could hope to master. Namjoon placed himself against his elbows as you straddled his hips, your figure teasingly humping his growing bulge inside his pants as his breath started to become ragged, his own magic reaching forward to yours, just the way his lips chased yours. Yet there was only so much ominous Namjoon could handle. His hands were quick to undress both of you in between hot caresses and messy kisses as both of your bodies seem to move on their own accord, the magic itself doing the most out of the tantric experience, moans slowly but surely filling up the room as Namjoon positioned the tip of his hard cock on your entrance, teasing your folds for a few seconds before you settled on top of him in a familiar manner, sinking down on him as he throws his head back, letting out a groan. You are almost sure Jungkook could hear you both, yet your mind so clouded you wouldn’t have given it a second thought with Namjoon’s cock filling you up so nicely as you moved up and down on his length, that is until out of the corner of your eye you catch the casted shadow outside the dimly lit room.

"Your puppy is outside," You say as you stop moving on him, not quite removing yourself from the situation, yet you feel the magic in the room flickering faintly as if going dormant.

"What" Namjoon’s eyes are surprised as he lets reality sink in, his magic safely sated from the small act

"The kid that has an obvious crush on both you and me?” you state matter of factly as Namjoon’s jaw goes slack “He's watching us from behind the door"

As if on cue, there’s a rustling behind the door, feet rapidly resounding against the floor "No I'm not!"

Namjoon sighs loudly "JK just come in, I know this might seem.." the door opens and you could swear Jungkook’s eyes are about to leave his skull at the image he’s present with "weird"

"incredibly hot," they say at the same time, rendering both of them speechless

"huh kid's horny" you start removing yourself from Namjoon’s cock as your magic starts tingling, now reaching out for the younger "i like it"

"Y/N please"

You gesture by raising your hands as if surrendering, yet you know just how the night had taken a turn, willing to satiate your magic’s needs “He doesn’t like your PG training, let me handle this”

Jungkook is still sporting his Bambi eyes as he feels himself pulled into the room, closing the door softly behind him as he can only stare at you as you make your way towards him, lips ghosting over his “So tell me Jungkookie” your hand trails down to bring him closer to your naked body, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your ass “Just how much are you willing to render of yourself for me and Joon?”

“All of me”

Jeon Jungkook might as well had been an erotic wizard like yourself if by the way he manhandles you and surrenders you to Namjoon like a loyal apprentice would to his master was anything to go by. Namjoon’s stare alone has the young man pliant as he caresses tan skin under his fingers, achingly curious as the youngest takes turns to kiss the eldest and yourself, Namjoon’s fingers playing with his nipples, your own hands working his length to life after your magic had completely undressed him, feeling both your and Namjoon’s magic reaching for Jungkook’s in a way you didn’t know was possible. A few kisses and lingering touches in, minds clouded with lust, kissing noises and moans taking over the space, Jungkook takes no time in positioning you on top of him, back to his chest as his length stretches you deliciously, long fingers playing with your clit as his own legs separate your thighs as if offering you up to his master, Namjoon looking like a man starved as he positions himself against Jungkook’s cock, his tip meeting no resistance as he glides in and nestles next to Jungkook, stretching you like no other time you could fathom, groans and ragged breaths of the men under and above you working you to your own climax, babbled words coming out of the youngest’s lips along with a promise of becoming yet another young god under your spell.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #bts imagines #btshoneyhive #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #bangtansorciere

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aiiwa · 4 years

Text

PRETTY IN PINK — IWAIZUMI HAJIME.

✗ REQUEST: may i request a lil text fic of yn having the most juiciest 🍑 and taking pics in her lingerie to send to her female friends so they can help pic out which one is the prettiest but she accidently sends them to her best friend and crush iwa and how that would go?????

— iwaizumi hajime.

⤷ genre: college au - fluff (?) / crack (?)

⤷ warnings: suggestive / mature themes, cursing, and a photo thirst trap photo (?), also iwa talking about masturbating over your photo

⤷ word count: 2.8k

— a/n: for my big booty anon i would sell my soul for 🍑💖

this is set in the same universe as freshman year, so feel free to give it a read if you’d like!!

life after meeting your boys had changed your daily routine in the best way. not a minute went by that wasn’t filled with the familiar craziness you had grown on.

free time was spent humouring mattsun by shifting the couches in their apartment around and engaging in a wrestling match, originally stemming from a fight the two of you had over the last slice of cake a month ago; the current score was an even tie of 14-14 though you had plans to take the lead. when it came to makki, he was more than happy to indulge on your self-care days; he’d even take part in your skincare routine, let you paint his nails, and liked it when you made smoothies to sip on while the two of you waited for your clay masks to dry. every other week was dedicated to retouching his roots with pink hair dye.

other days, you were set up on your bed; under the soft covers, stash of snacks next to you, while your laptop rested on your lap. and at exactly three a.m. you would receive an incoming call from, oikawa. since it would be three p.m. in argentina, he’d take to sitting out on his balcony, basking in the sun and interrogating you on the relationship, or lack thereof, you had with his dear iwa-chan.

speaking of sweet, gorgeous iwa - in your biased and majorly crushing opinion, hanging out with him was your favourite. though you’d never be heard saying that around anyone. just last week he’d all but solidified your love for him even more, when the two of you were up late, binge watching a new sci-fi show that caught iwa’s attention, and he got up to make you some coffee when you started to feel sleepy.

“here we go, coffee with two sugars for the pretty lady.” the warmth you felt run over your body settled before you grabbed at the steaming cup. taking a sip you realised you’d never told iwa how many sugars you preferred, and after asking him, you watched his faint blush bloom under the harsh light of the t.v. screen. “heh, i don’t know...just noticed it, i guess.”

but as much as you loved the guys, there were just some things you couldn’t do with them. things that required a strictly girls-only day out.

“what do you mean we’re not allowed to come? i wanna go to the mall too!” mattsun whines, tugging at the sleeve of your cropped, button-up sweater, while you were bent over tying your laces.

“it’s a girl’s day out, emphasis on girl.” smacking his hand away, you straighten up; sending him the look your mother gives you when you’re being difficult. “so unless your little pee-pee grew into a powerful vagina, you’ll be staying home.”

“but makki’s practically a girl too!” the couch cushion that flew into his face was true to its aim, the swift whack shutting mattsun up.

“fuck off, little dick.” makki grumbled, lanky figure draped over the couch; sans aforementioned couch cushion that was covering his face before. mattsun tried to throw the pillow back at the pink-haired boy, but it was caught with ease. “we agreed to never bring that up again.”

“yeah well, y/n’s talking about some girl-time shit, like we didn’t take her to a strip club, filled with male strippers.” mattsun sasses back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “like makki didn’t get a lap dance from that guy-”

from the corner of your eye, the bulky figure entering the room catches your attention instantly. you could never get tired of eyeing up the way his shirt stretched around his fit body, how his sleeves cut a bit into his arms and knowing he could rip them up with a flex of his biceps. watching him walk up to you, the tightening of his navy blue gym shorts around his shaped thighs, had you mesmerised; dragging your gaze across the outline of his bulge, you swore it twitched just before he stopped near you.

“ready to go, y/n?” he offered a small smile, twirling his keys around his finger. at the sound of his voice, the other two boys halted their bickering over the strip club incident.

“oi iwa, no fair, are you going with y/n?!” mattsun interrogates, thick brows arched in question.

“i’m dropping her off.”

“oh.” makki chimes in. “out of everyone i thought you would be the one with the most complaints, iwa. just the other day when the two of you were together, i wanted to ask y/n for help with my project but you-”

“yeah, yeah that was the other day.” iwa cuts him off, and you couldn’t help but furrow your brows, wanting to know what makki was going to say. oh well, you’ll just get it out of him after. “c’mon y/n, you’ll be late meeting the girls.”

iwa was on his way to the front door when makki asked you what was so different about this trip to the mall that you didn’t want any of the boys to come along.

“i’m going to buy new lingerie, and i need their opinions.” you shrugged, grabbing your hand bag so you could follow iwa out.

busy with shoving your phone into your purse, and checking you had all of your essentials, you failed to notice the scheming look shared between mattsun and makki. or how iwa stood frozen by the door, hand tightly gripping the handle, until you bumped into his warm back.

“lingerie...hm, i wonder for who?”

at makki’s words you felt heat rise up in your face, as you rubbed at your nose.

“y/n~! you could’ve just asked me to come along! i would love to give my opinion!”

you’d never seen keys flying so fast through the air, finding their mark on mattsun’s forehead.

after spending twenty minutes pressing an ice pack to the growing bump on mattsun’s forehead, and listening to him trying to explain to an irritated iwa that he was just playing around; you’d finally left the apartment, and was nearing the bustling shopping district. iwa had been quiet, though not awkward, with only the mellow songs of his playlist, named after you, playing during the short drive. he flicked his indicator on, spotting the two girls waving at you from the sidewalk, and pulled over to the side.

“thanks for the ride, iwa.” you mumbled distractedly, admiring the veins in his tanned arm as he shifted the gear into park.

“anything for my pretty lady.” iwa lifts the corner of his mouth up into a sweet grin, olive green eyes flitting over you next to him. he doesn’t even realise he’d called you his pretty lady, and you press a hand to your heated cheek; ignoring your friends cooing and pointing at the two of you. “do you need some money? are you gonna be warm?” he leans closer to you, putting his arm behind your seat as he searches through his gym back in the back. the intoxicating smell of his cinnamon cologne invades your senses. “i’ll give you my jacket, just let me find it.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, grabbing his bicep to stop him, giving it a firm, very self-indulgent squeeze. “iwa.” you called out to him. he turned to look at you, wide eyed and so fucking adorable. “you’re acting like my mom.”

his handsome features relaxed as he released an airy laugh. “well i love your mom, so i’m fine with that.” he pulled his arm from behind you, jacket in his grip, though not in a way to make you let go of his arm.

“i still can’t believe she messages you to make sure i’m eating right.” you groaned, still squeezing his arm playfully. “and stop trying to give me money, it’s like you want to be my sugar daddy or something.”

iwa’s arm tenses under your touch as he processes your words. “alright, time for you to go.” you manage to catch the bright blush dusting his cheeks; your hand reaching out to pinch them yet all you feel is the material of his jacket as he shoves it into your arms. “get out, your friends are waiting for you.”

you pout at his dismissal; but with the way he was so flustered, scratching the back of his neck and hiding his pretty eyes, you decide to let him off easy

“‘kay, fine~” you drawled in a sing-song voice.

making a show of collecting your things together, you dramatically tugged your seat belt loose; reaching for the door but halting in your actions when the weight of his large hand, dropped on top of your head. allowing him to angle your head to face him, he gifted you with a soft smile that had you ready to melt into the passenger seat.

“be safe, alright?” your eyes blinked with each gentle pat on your head - once, twice, thrice - most likely ruffling your hair you’d spent a good amount of time on. “now go, text me and i’ll pick you up later.”

puffing your cheeks, you nodded as he squeezed your scalp affectionately. unlocking the door, you stepped outside into the cool air, wrapping iwa’s big jacket over your shoulders as goosebumps rose underneath the thin material of your sweater. bumping the door closed with your hip, you bent at the waist and stuck your head through the open window

“bye, iwa.” your lips pressed together in a shy smile.

he mirrored your smile. “see you later, pretty lady.”

walking away, tugging the collar of his jacket closer, you could feel his eyes following after you. only half-listening as the girls teased you, hooking their arms through yours to walk through the entrance of the mall; you glanced back once more to see iwa stick a hand out and wave, before driving off once you disappeared from his view.

steam whirled up and around iwa, as a contented sigh escaped his parted lips. stood underneath the spray of warm water, he felt the tension begin to evaporate from his taut muscles

iwa’s gym sessions, as of late, had been rather extreme. well, it had been this way for a couple of months now, ever since he had met you. he had to overwork his body, send it into overdrive and power through the fatigue - it was the only way to release some of his pent up frustration. the frustration that came with crushing on you, and not acting on it.

you were so fucking gorgeous to him, and you were so damn sweet. every part of his being was steadily entangling itself around your presence, and he had no idea how to stop it. not that he would even want to try. when you were nearby, his ears would begin to twitch at the sound of your voice, searching for you; and when you touched him, wrapping your delicate fingers around his arm to steady yourself, or poking your fingers at his back absentmindedly while teasing his roommates, he could feel his skin tingle all over. but it was when you would look up at him, sparkles in your beautiful eyes, that iwa knew he was a goner.

you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger, and he just wanted to make you his. have you in his arms…and bury himself so deep inside you-

“fuck.”

he shut off the shower with a bit more force than necessary. this was exactly the reason why he’d been visiting the gym more, working out for longer, because his mind was plagued with thoughts of you under him.

especially after seeing you in your cute outfit today. he feared that you’d catch his eyes lingering too long on the exposed skin of your tummy, or trying to memorise the curve of your lush thighs in those jeans. hell, he could barely say anything to you on the drive to the mall, tongue running dry with you so close to him.

with a huff, he carefully stepped out of the shower; wrapping his fully white towel around his hips, and moving into his room. kicking the door closed behind him, he made his way towards his side table just in time for his phone to go off.

grabbing the device and waiting a second for the facial recognition to process; he was surprised to see it was an instagram notification from you. expecting another food porn post, he was dead wrong; with absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared him for what greeted his eyes.

“holy,” he collapsed onto his bed, holding his phone to his face. “fuck.”

you...you-

“fuck!” he growled out.

you’d sent him a photo in your new lingerie, albeit it was most likely by accident, but there you were modelling your new all-pink set. the one he had 'chosen’.

with your arms raised above your head, brushing your hair over your shoulders, the stretched out pose accentuated the curve of your breasts, almost spilling out from the strapped confines of your bra. could he even call it that? it was all studded belt straps and buckles, that matched the thick choker-collar around your lithe neck, and it was not helping his current situation. grazing his eyes lower, a thin belt was clipped around your waist, before a sliver of skin lead downwards to the skinny, almost sheer, material of your panties. it was high waisted, dipping behind your wide hips and the teasing curve of your ass. and then your thighs, fuck how he wanted his face to be squeezed between them. thigh-high stockings dug into your plush thighs, squished out from the way you were sitting on your rug.

leaning back onto his bed, iwa was tempted to check if his heart was still beating, if he was even breathing at this point. but he did check, and he was alive; and the blood circulating his body was currently flowing straight to his groin.

the sight of you, so fucking pretty in pink, was burned into his mind forever.

under his palms the prickling sensation spread across his fingers, itching to relieve himself. one hand trailed across the panes of his abdomen, while the other grabbed at his phone; though it almost went flying out of his hand when it started vibrating and your contact photo flashed on his screen.

“shit.” he cursed, clearing his throat and trying to even out his breathing. he accepted the call after a moment. “hello?”

“iwa?!” at the sound of your voice he could feel his dick twitch, and he clenched his teeth together; annoyed at himself. he needed to get a grip. “oh my god, iwa, i am so sorry!”

‘no, i’m sorry that i want to fuck you so bad right now.’ is what he wants to say. “it’s...fine, y/n.” is what he manages to get out.

he hears you chuckle a bit awkwardly on the other end of the line. “shit, i’m so embarrassed right now.” you confess. “i meant to send that to the girls…”

“you don’t have to be embarrassed.” if anyone was to embarrassed it was him. he’d spent months pining after you, and now here he was lying on his bed aching to touch himself to you, towel fisted in his free hand. “you’re beautiful, y/n.” at least that managed to come out right.

“thank you, iwa...i only realised what happened when i was about to send another showing the back!” you laughing at your antics fell deaf on his ears, when the thought of your ass seized control of his mind.

how often had he admired the shape of you the past few months. daydreaming of the way you’d feel in his big hands, silky skin dug into by his long fingers, cheeks jutting out between them. he wanted to hold your ass in the palms of his hands, squeeze and tease you...his hips buck up, grinding against the cotton of the towel and a loud groan escapes his mouth.

“oh- iwa? are you okay?” you asked him, so innocently. he couldn’t take it anymore.

“i’m good...i just- something’s come up,” he hissed out, glancing down at the red tip of his cock peeping up at him. “i’ll call you later.”

“oh, of course! sorry again iwa, hehe, i’ll delete the photo. talk soon!”

his eyes shut at the sound of your giggle, free hand already rubbing himself. “bye.”

ending the call and moving the phone away from his face, he stared at the photo again, thumb hovering over the ‘save’ option, before pressing yes. he’d keep it locked away just for him, a treasured piece of you in his gallery. starting to stroke himself to your perfect body, he waited for the notification that you had deleted the photo from the conversation.

but it never came, though he did, and the photo remained buried under new food posts sent from you.

yet it wasn’t til a few weeks after that iwa began to think that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as much of an accident as you made it out to be.

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu crack #college au #haikyuu college au #matsukawa #hanamaki #oikawa #iwaizumi #haikyuu!!#iwa x reader

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 3 years

Text

You Marked More Than Just My Skin - Supercorp

Read it on AO3

Kara’s first instinct was to blame Alex because, if she was going to be honest, Alex was the one to blame for many of her stupid decisions. Sisters' competitive nature or something like that. That's what their mother would say when they were teenagers and they randomly started a fight. A just adopted Kara who had just lost her parents was not letting an overly cocky Alex win without fighting back.

So, naturally, she was going to blame Alex for this. However, Alex had nothing to do with Kara walking down the street from her job one day and entering the tattoo shop she walked past by every day on her way home. No, it had started with Winn, her best friend, saying that Kara wasn’t the type of person to do things out of impulse. Which he wasn’t exactly wrong, although he hit a sore spot because "I can be very spontaneous!" had been Kara’s answer and everyone around them gave her that look that made it pretty clear no one believed her.

Then, just about a week after that, Nia was walking home with her after a stop at Noonan's for their killer milkshake and saw the tattoo shop still open even if it was past 10 pm. There was no one inside that they could see, but the sign read "open" in neon letters and Nia did a double-take when she saw the walls covered in drawings.

"Oh, my God! Look at that thing!" she had screamed. And that thing was a fairly beautiful drawing of a girl lying in bed with a cloud above her head as though she was dreaming about a myriad of things.

Nia grabbed her arm, dragged her inside and, ten minutes later, she was sitting on a chair while a young man that couldn't be older than Kara permanently marked the skin on her forearm with the same drawing.

"Did you draw it?" Nia asked and Kara could tell she was just a little bit in pain because she was clutching the arm of the chair and hadn’t stopped babbling for two seconds. Not that Nia ever stopped talking, actually.

"No," the man replied in an excited voice. Like he was happy to be doing a tattoo on a girl that had just ten minutes prior decided she wanted one. But Kara held back her tongue, took some pictures while Nia made her goofy faces and sat on a stool at the corner like the good friend she was. "My boss did. She does most of the drawings we have available."

"Well, she has a hell of a talent!" Nia exclaimed, bit her lip when the needle hit a soft spot and flashed another smile once it was gone. "You should tell her she's amazing!"

Jack, that was his name, Kara reminded herself, laughed like that was a big joke that only he was aware of, but nodded all the same. "She's in the office right now, maybe she will stop by to hear you say that. She loves when people pick her drawings, but she will never say it out loud."

The woman, whoever she was, didn’t leave her office, not even when they left, way past midnight, listening to Jack's careful instructions on how to take care of Nia's arm for the next week. In the end, Kara had to admit Jack was a nice guy. And he did an excellent job. Nia's tattoo was perfect. Perfect for her and perfectly done, and her friend had no problem showing it off the next day.

"Holy crap!" Winn screamed when he saw it on game night on Friday. "I didn't know you were into tattoos. It looks awesome!"

"Thank you! And I just decided to do it," Nia shrugged, as though deciding to do a tattoo on a Wednesday night at 10 pm after getting a milkshake was a normal thing. "Thank Goddess Kara was with me so she could keep me company."

"Wait," Winn eyed Kara with the same incredulous expression from a week before and she immediately felt defensive. "Kara was there and didn't try to stop you?"

"She did say I might regret it," Nia conceded with a smile. "About ten times, but she stayed with me."

Kara rolled her eyes, picked up the pizza box and sulked on the couch while her friends made fun of her lack of spontaneous nature. Kara was a planner. And she had learned her lesson when she decided to walk to the park instead of going home one day after school and returned to the Danvers' household to find out three police cars parked at the street and a frantic Eliza giving them a photo of her and saying she had disappeared. So, yes, Kara wasn't one to do things out of the blue anymore, but that was hardly a bad thing.

She tried to tell that to herself for the next week while everyone still awed and cooed at Nia's tattoo. She tried to remind herself of Eliza's panicked face while James, with his impressive looking dragon tattoo on his back, said Kara would never be one to make a tattoo because she would keep changing her mind. She tried to picture Alex's disapproving stare while Nia's boyfriend, Querl, made comments on how he loved Nia's carefree and spontaneous nature.

In the end, what pushed her to do it was her boss and Kara couldn’t even blame her, or Alex, or any of her friends. But she would, anyway.

"Kiera, the reason why people hardly remember your name-" she wanted to point out that Cat was the only one who had a hard time remembering her name but bit her tongue instead "-is because you are so... blank."

"Blank?" Kara had asked, trying and failing not to look so offended.

And Cat nodded because she knew how to get to her. "Nothing remarkable. You use terrible sweaters and write articles that everyone could write. Did you ever do something, I don’t know, remotely spontaneous in your life?"

Kara was sure - or almost sure because you can never know with Cat Grant - that her boss was trying to push her to fly to Midvale to write about the scandal surrounding some tech company there even though Snapper had decided William would cover that for CatCo. It was either that or to make her wear something that wasn’t in pastel color.

Well, all it did was send Kara straight to a tattoo shop where she hoped to find Jack and demand he did something as spectacular as Nia's tattoo. And she went on a mission, marching down the ten blocks from CatCo to the tattoo shop - that only that day she stopped to read the name of and what weird name they chose, Le Vintage Ink - her feet hitting the ground with a purpose, her hand pushing the door open with a vengeance, her eyes narrowed behind her glasses with one goal in mind.

It wasn't Jack she saw, however. She didn't see anyone at first, actually. The shop was empty like it was a week before and very silent, with the air conditioner doing a soft hum and nothing else.

The anti climax moment was enough to make all her determination wave off. Her shoulders dropped, her eyes rounded, her feet started to stamp and her determination, well, she didn’t quite remember it anymore. Nobody needed to know, Kara told to herself. Nobody knew she was going to do it, so she could just turn around, leave, go back to her apartment and try to do some online shopping. Maybe buy a red dress for once. None of her friends would ever believe she went back to the tattoo shop, so there would be no problem...

No. That was exactly the problem. They wouldn’t even believe her if she told them. They would laugh, call it a bluff, and keep teasing Kara for not being adventurous like they were. Alex does this long motorbike drives all over the state sometimes, and James goes hiking and jumps from planes from time to time. Winn would point out that the last thing Kara did without meticulous planning was to change pizza night for potstickers and that was only because the pizza place she always orders from was out of pineapples.

However, Kara reasoned with herself, instead of doing a tattoo, she could just go with Alex on her next trip. Maybe she could ask James to teach her how to hike. Querl adopted a cat he found behind his building, so maybe that could be Kara’s unplanned moment too. And what did Winn do so adventurous or spontaneous that he had the right to make fun of Kara? She couldn’t remember.

Yes, any of those things would be more reasonable. She could even do an impromptu visit to her mother. It would count for something. She knew Eliza would be happy and she loved making her mom happy. She could even pick Alex's old helmet so her sister could use it to ride with her girlfriend, Kelly, and Eliza makes a killer chocolate pecan pie too.

Already dreaming with the taste of the pie crust in her mouth Kara turned around. She must have been inside the tattoo shop for less than ten seconds and Jack hadn’t shown up yet, so that was a plus and a sign, even if she wanted to greet him and tell how nice Nia's tattoo looked after a week.

The second her back was turned to the counter, though, she heard a door opening and then a voice filled the silence. "Can I help you?"

That wasn’t Jack's voice. That much she knew. What she didn’t know was that someone could sound so... husky and still be so clear on the words. What she also didn’t know was why her body froze like she had been hit with lightning. Or why she ever decided to leave when a voice like that was inside the shop.

It would be rude to just keep walking, Kara told herself and even she knew it was a lame excuse for wanting to see the owner of that voice. But she still turned around, eyes blinking fast as she tried not to miss a second of what she was about to see, and then immediately felt her soul leave her body. That was the only explanation on why her mouth fell open and why her brain's function slowed down at least 30%.

Because the voice's owner was... for the lack of a better word, striking. It was a woman, looking a few years younger than Kara, with dark as coal wavy hair falling down her shoulders, green piercing eyes framed by some heavy eyeliner and plump lips painted with red lipstick. The woman was wearing a black t-shirt from a band Kara had never heard of, the v-cut being deep enough that she could see a black bra under it. The shirt looked like she had been cut at home - maybe she wasn't designed to have such a deep v-neck, maybe she had sleeves at some point and maybe the deep cuts by each side also weren't a part of the initial product. But, damn, it looked great on her. Since she had no sleeves and the shirt moved as she walked and showed a great expanse of her sides, Kara could see that the woman’s body was covered in tattoos.

Her arms, from shoulder to wrist, were almost totally covered. Her left arm almost looked like a flower shop, with dozens of flowers in different colors drawn all over it. Her right arm had tattoos from her shoulder to her elbow, and they were a mix of chemical elements and computer parts that, somehow, worked together in all black and white. Kara got just a few glimpses of the tattoos on her side - something that looked like a cartoon character, another one that assembled a lake, a few words that Kara couldn’t read from that far - but that was enough to make her lick her lips and try to picture what else was there. There were no tattoos on her chest area, that Kara could see, but there was a small musical chord on the left side of her neck, and Kara wondered if she had any tattoos on her legs. She couldn't see them from where the woman was standing behind the counter, and something dragged her feet forward before she could stop herself.

"H-hi," she choked out and her face immediately heated up with embarrassment. Her sister would call it 'gay panic' and make fun of her for three days, and Kara was suddenly very thankful for being alone. "I, uh..." The woman blinked, Kara mimicked her, and lost every coherent thought inside her head. "Jack."

The woman arched one perfect eyebrow, resting her hands flat against the counter, and Kara’s blue eyes were suddenly very interested in the long fingers spread over some papers. The papers, she noticed as a second thought, were unfinished drawings, but she could hardly tell what they were. Feeling her face get even hotter, Kara demanded that her eyes moved up and she was almost proud of herself when they paused for only a second at the woman’s cleavage. Of course, as soon as her eyes met the woman’s face again, she had a tiny smirk like she knew Kara was having a hard time being in the same space as her.

"I'm sorry, love," she said and Kara noticed an accent behind the last word, like she had spent years trying to get rid of it but still couldn't brush it off some words. "Jack doesn't work here on Tuesdays."

Oh. Well, that's a bit of a relief, Kara wasn't going to lie. No Jack, no tattoo, and she still could say she tried. She still wanted to say ‘hi’ but...

"Can I help you instead?"

Oh, boy. Kara almost turned around and ran away right then and there because the things she was thinking this stranger could help her with were kind of mortifying. Instead, Kara bit her bottom lip so hard that it went numb instantly, and leaned forward until she was resting her hands in front of the woman's fingers. She dared to glance down really quick, just to find out the woman was wearing black jeans and boots, before she looked up again - with a quick stop at the cleavage because good lord.

"I don't know, I..." Kara couldn’t even say her own name if the woman asked at that moment, let alone remember what she was doing there and where there even was.

The woman chuckled then. A deep, husky sound from the back of her throat that brought a small smile to her lips, and then she ducked her head - as though she had no idea that was the most blinding smile Kara had ever seen in her twenty-six years of living. Neither the chuckle nor the smile was mockingly, and her green eyes were just a little bit amused when she looked back at Kara.

"Don't get me wrong but... you don't look like the type of person that would get a tattoo."

Okay, what is it with people just assuming Kara is too boring to do something? Kara took a look at her own clothes. She wasn't even wearing a sweater that day! Sure, beige trousers and a blue button up hardly screamed "living on the edge" but come on! Was it the glasses? Alex always said she should use contact lenses, but she liked the glassed!

Feeling a new wave of determination, Kara set up her jaw and crossed her arms. "Well, that's exactly what I came here to do."

The woman raised both eyebrows now, clearly amused. "To get a tattoo?" She asked like there was any other reason for Kara to be inside a tattoo shop on a Tuesday night.

So Kara nodded, her blonde hair wiggling from side to side on her ponytail, and straightened up her back like she was about to enter a fight. Not that she ever fought before, not even when the cruel kids at her new school would call her weird and push her inside her locker. Alex would beat them up for her, so she didn’t have to, it was fine.

"Yes," she said and her voice only trembled for a second. "To get a tattoo," she confirmed like there was any other reason for her to be inside a tattoo shop on a Tuesday night.

"Okay," the woman said, clicking her tongue once before she picked up a pen from the desk, a smirk permanently spread on her lips. "Do you have any idea of what you want?"

Shit. Kara hadn’t gone that far. Maybe not even her own brain thought she would do it because she had neglected the most important part of the entire process. She had no idea what she wanted permanently marked on her skin.

(Permanently marked also sent a thousand of red lights inside her head because, you know, it was permanent)

It must have shown on her face because the woman’s smirk became more of a smile, not exactly gentle but not mockery either. "What's your name?"

"Kara." She was so glad her brain hadn’t come up with something ridiculous to say. She could remember when she met her cousin's sister-in-law and answered the same question with "mashed potatoes" for some reason she would never be able to grasp. Lucy never let her forget that embarassing moment.

"Well, Kara," and Holy Goddess of all the universe and beyond, how could her name roll out of her lips like that? "why don’t you take a look at the drawings we have here, see if you like one. If you don't, we can always come up with something for you."

She then pushed some heavy black portfolio across the counter towards Kara and opened the leather front cover to show her the first drawing. They were all separated by plastic, and she started the task of turning the pages while trying very hard to look at the drawings and not at the woman in front of her. She wasn't sure because she wouldn’t dare to look up, but she could feel green eyes staring at her and her blush returned full force.

"So..." she heard after a couple of minutes in silence. "What kind of dare you lost?"

Kara took full offense on that, glaring at her for a moment before going back to the portfolio. She had gotten on the dragon section and decided to skip it all together. "There was no dare."

The woman hummed, watched her for another minute, and then leaned over with her forearms touching the counter. She reached out, taking the plastic from Kara's fingers, and started skipping the pages until they reached the flowers. Kara looked up, catching a glimpse of the woman's arm, before meeting green eyes with a light glare.

The woman shrugged. "You look like a flower kind of girl."

"What else do I look like to you?" Kara mumbled back and stubbornly went back to the drawing she was seeing before - the ships and anchors section - even though she left a finger marking the flowers page.

The brunette seemed even more amused now, barely able to hide her smile, and she chuckled once when Kara turned the page to see another ship. "Like you randomly decided to get a tattoo because someone pissed you off."

Kara tried not to give her the satisfaction of being right, deciding to focus on studying every ship and every anchor. She heard another chuckle, but the woman wisely didn’t push the subject.

"You could save us a lot of time by just going to the flowers."

Fine, maybe she was right about that too. Kara would never pick a ship, or a dragon, or a coffee cup, or any other drawing she saw before. Although Kara never thought what type of drawing she would get tattooed. With a sigh, she went back to the flowers, throwing the woman a dirty look when she huffed a laugh.

"Hey," she said, raising her hands in playful defense, "if I'm going to do something that you will regret tomorrow, at least let me help."

"Aren't you going to try to talk me out of this?" Kara asked, remembering when Jack asked Nia five times if she was sure before touching her skin with the needle.

"No," another shrug. "I will get my money and you will get the regret. Works fine by me."

Kara scoffed and shook her head, but finally spotted something she liked. It was a rose, not larger than a paper ball, black and white with a few leafs to the side. She was almost pointing that one out when she heard a deep sigh and looked up. The brunette was staring down at the drawing with enough judgment that Kara changed her mind in a blink.

"What?" She still asked because it was a beautiful flower.

"Nothing, it's just... does that even mean something to you?"

Kara looked back at the rose and frowned. "I like roses," she defended herself.

"I like kale, but I won’t tattoo that."

"You like kale?" Kara didn’t mean to sound so disgusted by it but it was stronger than her. Her face twisted in a grimace, shocked more than anything.

The other woman laughed a real laugh this time, and Kara felt the sound into her xcvery core. "Please, don't ask me to tattoo a burger on you. You're too pretty for that."

It was like she knew exactly what those words would do to Kara because she winked right after, making her blush ten times more. "What do you suggest, then?"

The tattooed brunette smiled and tapped her finger on top of the rose. "If you liked this one, it's fine, but I would go with..." She let her voice die as she started turning the pages until she found what she was looking for. "This one."

Kara looked at the drawing and was immediately sold to the idea. It wasn't just any flower. It was a plumeria. Well, two plumerias side by side, with a few leafs to the sides and a mandala carefully placed behind them like it was the third flower. She knew she wanted that one the second her eyes landed on it.

"It would look good on you," she kept talking. "I wouldn’t add any color, though." Kara kept nodding although she was only half paying attention now that she had found the right one. Her silence must have sent twisted signals because the woman’s voice became softer. "I know I said I wouldn’t try to talk you out of this but... are you sure?"

Kara’s eyes moved up then, metting slightly concerned green eyes, and she smiled. "Yes. I'm sure."

The woman studied her face for a few seconds before she nodded once. "Okay, then. Where do you want it?"

Shit.

The panic on her face told her out again and the woman’s laugh filled the space around them like a melody. "Come on, we can figure it out inside."

‘Inside’ being a closed room very similar to the one Nia had gotten her tattoo, albeit it was clear that that one wasn't Jack's. First, it lacked the smell of cigars and heavy cologne that Kara smelled last time and made her nose itch. But it also held a more personal touch like more drawings and a few words scribbled on the black walls. Kara didn’t feel nervous while the woman turned the sign from open to close, explaining that she was the only one who worked on Tuesdays' nights. She also didn’t feel nervous when she entered the room and spotted the comfortable chair she would be sitting on. What made her nervous again was taking her shirt off so she could decide where she wanted the plumerias to be.

She placed the printed drawing on several parts of both of her arms, her shoulders and asked the brunette to hold it at some spots on her back as well. But Kara was only satisfied when she put the paper against the right side of her ribs, a few centimeters below her bra. The woman gave her a knowing look and arched one eyebrow when she said that was the place she wanted her tattoo.

"Are you sure? It can be quite a painful area to get a tattoo, especially if it's your first one."

Again, she wasn't making fun of Kara and she appreciated it, but she also wasn't going to change her mind. "I'm sure."

"Okay. I will put the outlines, then."

It was only when the brunette had her hands against her side and her face a few inches from her chest that Kara realized she didn’t even know who she was. "Hey, I, uh, I didn't catch your name before."

Green eyes glanced up, bright and slightly amused, before they returned to the task of perfectly positioning the flowers on her ribs. "Lena."

"Lena," Kara found herself echoing the name in a whisper before she could stop herself. Lena looked up again, even more amused than before, and Kara felt herself blushing. "It... it suits you."

She had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but Lena smiled and tilted her head to the side. "Thanks." She pushed back the stool she was sitting on. "Take a look at the mirror and see if that's what you want."

Kara took a step closer to see her reflection and tried very hard to ignore the fact that she was standing in front of a stranger in her bra. The plumerias were exactly what she wanted and exactly where she wanted them, and she said that to Lena, who told her to lay down after turning the chair into an improvised bed. While Kara tried to find a comfortable place to lay, she heard Lena slipping on rubber gloves and moving a few things around before approaching her again. She was half expecting her to ask one more time if she was sure, but Lena said nothing when she touched her skin with the black gloves, and raised the needle to her eyes level to make sure it was ready to go.

Kara wasn’t sure if the shivers were from nervousness, the chill air of the room, or the fact that this very attractive woman was touching her just below her breast, but she did her best to ignore it. Lena had pulled her hair into a messy ponytail, Kara realized, and she could see her sharp jawline more easily now. She also spotted five different piercings on the woman’s right ear. For a second, she wondered if Lena could feel her heart beating under her skin or if she could maybe even hear it.

"Be ready for some pain, but try not to move," Lena said while she lowered the needle to her skin. "It will take longer if you keep moving. You also don't want me to fuck this up," she offered Kara a smile to let her know she was joking - at least that's what the blonde hoped for. "Tell me if you need a break."

So, Lena wasn't lying when she said it would hurt. Nia neglected to tell her about the painful part and Kara would make her pay for it by typing down her next article, but, holy crap, it hurt. The first touch of the needle made her jump and hiss, and Lena pulled it away like she knew it was going to happen, giving her a few seconds to recover.

"Sorry," Kara whispered once her body relaxed again.

"It's fine," the brunette mumbled back, totally concentrated on her job now.

It went like that for a few minutes - Kara squeezing her eyes shut, biting her lips, clutching the sides of the chair slash bed, and hissing under her breath whenever she couldn’t hold it back anymore. Until she started to get used to the pain and allowed herself to focus on other things. Her eyes trailed to the few drawings hanging on the walls, taking in the delicate traces and the lack of colors from all of them. She decided that talking would help her with the pain.

"Jack said his boss makes those drawings," she commented lightly.

There was a brief pause before Lena answered her. "That would be me."

"Oh," the blonde breathed out in shock. "So, you..."

"I'm the owner, yes." There was another pause while Lena cleaned her skin with a soft paper. "I used to work for a tattoo artist back in Metropolis before I decided to open my own business. Jack followed me."

"Well, you certainly have talent. Your drawings are beautiful."

"On paper," Lena teased and Kara didn’t need to look at her to know she was smirking. "Let's see how it translate to your skin."

Kara wanted to play along and tell her to ‘please, don't make something awful that would be permanently marked on my skin’, but she found herself saying something entirely different. "Plumerias were my mom's favorite flowers. My dad would bring them to her every Saturday after work because those were the first flowers he ever gave her." She could still remember her father getting back home on Saturdays right before lunch with a bouquet in his hand to her mom and a box of chocolate for her, all smiles and offering hugs. If she tried hard enough, Kara could still remember the smell of her mom's stew mixed with the flowers' smell, could still taste the chocolate. "They died almost fifteen years ago."

Kara had no idea why she was sharing those things with this stranger wearing black rubber gloves and breathing too close to her ribs, but she also couldn't stop. Maybe it was a tattoo thing, like sharing too much about your relationships while cutting your hair.

Lena didn’t shy away, though. She made sure their eyes were locked before saying, "Let's make sure those are perfect, then," and went back to work.

Kara felt herself relaxing more after that, although she didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. "I work as a reporter to a magazine," she found herself saying. "My boss is... both of them are impossible to deal with. I dream about throwing them into space sometimes, but... I love my job. One of them is the reason I'm here today."

"Who should I be thanking?"

Kara blushed one more time, even if she wasn't sure it was said to be flirtatious or if she was just imagining it. "Cat means well, she just... push some buttons sometimes."

"Well," Lena stopped her movements to look at Kara again, this time with a soft smile. "I will be sending this Cat some flowers anyway."

The blonde chuckled at that. "Go back to work. I don't want to end up with a dragon on my ribs."

Lena hummed, eyes dropping back to the outlines of the flowers and needle touching skin again. "I wouldn’t draw a dragon on you," she contemplated. "You're more of an iguana kind of girl."

Kara gasped in faked offense and turned her head to fully stare at Lena with narrowed eyes. "How dare you? You know nothing about me!"

The tattoo artist shrugged, not bothered by her explosion. "Maybe a kitty." Kara huffed and puffed, letting her body fall back on the chair, and did her best to keep frowning. "Definitely a kitty," she heard Lena whispering under her breath, playfully and amused, and Kara was soon smiling. "So... will your boyfriend approve this?"

"Are you fishing for information about me?" Kara teased.

"Huh," Lena sighed. "You didn’t sound this confident when you were stumbling over your words when you first saw me."

She was sure her entire body turned pink with that and she mumbled weakly that: "I was nervous about getting a tattoo."

"Yes, of course," Lena replied and Kara blushed again.

"No boyfriend," she ended up replying because the other alternative was to dig a bigger hole to herself. "Or a girlfriend."

She was ready for another teasing from the other woman, but Lena pulled back instead and eyed her tattoo with her head tilted to the side. "I need you to hold your breath for a few seconds, okay? I'm getting to a delicate part and it would be better if you hold it for, like, ten seconds."

Kara nodded and got ready to pull in a breath to hold it while Lena got her needle ready to go again. When the other woman said so, Kara took in a large intake of breath but, as soon as the needle touched her again, she exhaled in surprise when the pain shot to every nerve in her body.

"I know," Lena said. "It's the hardest part. I promise to be done with it as fast as possible. Can we try again?"

There weren't many options since Kara was already in the middle of getting her tattoo done, so she nodded and waited for the new signal. Kara grabbed the chair with both of her hands, pressed her eyes tightly shut, bit her bottom lip and held her breath for the longest ten seconds of her life before Lena tapped her skin and pulled away with a smile.

"There," she declared in her husky tone. "Good girl."

It was embarrassing how those two words made Kara react. She gasped, the breath still stuck in her lungs almost causing her to choke, and her entire body went stiff when a shiver left goosebumps all over her skin on its way down her spine. She couldn't see Lena and that was a blessing because she could feel the pause that her reaction gave the brunette. So, maybe that was a weird way to find out a praise kink, Kara decided while praying that Lena would brush it as a perfectly normal reaction to have.

"That was interesting," Lena whispered and, this time, the blonde knew she wasn't supposed to have heard that.

The blonde bit her bottom lip so hard that she could feel the taste of blood and she was totally sure that Lena could hear how fast her heart was beating. She could probably feel it, and, God, that was so embarrassing. Kara had half a piece of mind to just pull back her shirt, leave and never go back there, but the other woman didn’t give her time to react before she was once more piercing her skin with the needle. It was still painful, although the mortification she felt numbed it a little bit.

Lena didn’t sound so cocky when she spoke again and she even had to clear her throat so the words would come out less hoarse and more audible. “Just a while longer and we will be done. Can you handle it or should we finish it another day?”

Kara didn’t trust herself to ever come back – and not just because of what had just happened but also because she didn’t think she would be brave enough to get any tattoo needle to ever touch her again. So, she exhaled slowly and nodded. Lena went back to the draw immediately after that and they fell in a half comfortable silence until the trickiest part was over. Or, at least, that’s what Kara thought the trickiest part was because it hurt like hell and Lena had this crinkle between her brows when she glanced back that made her look... cute. Even with the tattoos and the five different piercing sets on her ears, the black clothes, the black room and her undeniable confidence.

It wasn’t until Lena leaned away to get more ink that she spoke again. “Plumerias were very common where I lived.”

Kara thought back on their conversation and wondered aloud, “Metropolis?”

“Ireland,” she corrected gently.

“Oh,” Kara breathed out and then hissed when the needle was back to her ribs.

“Not many people know I’m Irish, so I’m trusting you with this secret, Kara.”

She could hear the joke in the woman’s voice and Lena even poked her side playfully, and Kara heard herself giggling like a schoolgirl. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“That’s not how it works,” Lena declared with a huff. “Now you need to tell me a secret of yours.”

“What?”

“Yes, so we’re even and I can make sure you will never tell anyone what I just told you.”

“It’s not like you just confessed a murder,” Kara argued with an eye roll that was quite too fond to be directed to someone who she had met only two or three hours before.

Lena looked up for a second and their eyes met, making Kara’s face flush red. She was pulling a very uncomfortable position to keep her head raised and turned to the side so she could watch the other woman, and she had just been caught doing that one more time. “No? Well, you shouldn’t go to my office then.”

Kara hummed, trying to sound unimpressed by the joke while fighting back a laugh, and shrugged. “I knew it was weird I didn’t see Jack.”

The brunette let out a breathy chuckle, her hot breath hitting Kara’s side and making her shiver again, before she pursed her lips. “I see you’re too fond of Jack already.”

“Jealous?”

Lena quirked one dark eyebrow and gave her a look – the type of look that Kara tried to pull out her entire life while trying to look all sexy and misterious and was never able to do it – that made the blonde’s entire body warm up. “I’m the one poking your skin with a needle right now, so I think he should be the jealous one.”

Yes, Kara couldn’t keep up with that. She was weird, she rambled, she stuttered more times than not, and just, overall, was terrible at the whole flirting thing. Lena, on the other hand, seemed to be a master on it. Kara didn’t really stand a chance against it, not even for a second. She could try, pull out a word or a phrase here and there, but, in the end, Lena would find a way to leave her blushing and flustered so easily that made her head spin.

(She couldn’t be sure if Lena was just that good or if Kara was just super gay, but, whatever it was, it was working wonderfully)

“Now, come on, spill a secret,” Lena said after a long silence that stretched between them while they just stared at each other’s eyes.

Kara felt hypnotized by the green eyes and that was so unfair. So, damn, unfair. “I get my boss’ coffee order wrong every day.”

Lena stopped with the tattoo again to blink at her a couple of times in what seemed to be confusion. Then, she tilted her head to the side, glanced to the ceiling and opened her mouth as if she was going to say something. No sound came out, she closed her mouth again, and she looked so adorable that Kara felt her rambling coming to the surface again.

“Cat has this really complicated order at Starbucks that makes my head hurt just to think about. 3% fat, quarter milk, a spoon and a half of organic sugar, or whatever that is. It’s my job to get her coffee every morning and there’s no Starbucks close to my apartment, so I stop at another place called Noonan’s and get an order from there.” Lena still hadn’t said anything and Kara couldn’t bring herself to stop talking. “I used to work there, so I have a discount. I can buy a coffee for myself too with the same amount of money I would spend at Starbucks. And she never noticed it!”

There was a pause where Kara tried to come up with more things to say before a loud laugh cut the space around her. She looked at Lena with wide eyes and only slightly offended by her reaction, but the other woman was too busy laughing at her expense to notice it. The brunette used the back of her hand to cover her mouth while she shook her head and kept laughing freely.

“I’m sorry,” Lena said, waving her hand, before being interrupted by her own laugh. “It’s just... Fuck! That’s the worse thing you ever did in your life?” The tattoo artist looked at her again with her eyes crinkling at the sides and Kara felt her anger melting away.

“What? Did you expect a murder?”

“I was hoping that you would say you spit on her coffee, at least.”

Kara gasped. “I would never do that!”

Lena narrowed her eyes at her, a tiny smirk adorning her lips. “But you think about it, don’t you?”

“Every day,” she admitted with a groan, letting her head fall back against the chair.

The brunette laughed again and a cold hand came to rest against her thigh, making Kara’s body vibrate from head to toe. “I won’t tell your secret if you don’t tell mine.” Lena winked – winked – at her and Kara felt her throat too dry all of sudden. The woman chuckled again when the blonde gulped before she gently tapped the hard muscle of Kara’s thigh. “We’re done here.”

“Oh.” Kara blinked in surprise and her eyes immediately fell to her ribs. The skin was red and swollen, but she could see the delicate lines of the flowers and the leaves, and she was hit by the urge to cry all at once. She felt like a little girl again, being six or seven, and running to the door to meet her father, seeing the plumerias in his left hand and the chocolate on his right.

“Hey,” Lena called her gently, ducking her head to be able to catch the blue eyes again. “You're fine over there? I had people regretting tattoos before, but not so fast.”

Kara laughed and shook her head, trying to discreetly brush a tear from the corner of her eyes. “Everything is fine. It’s really beautiful.”

“Well, don’t say that before you take a better look,” Lena pushed her stool away and got up with a refreshed excitement. “Come on, stand up so you can look at it in the mirror.”

That’s what Kara did, sliding off the chair and walking with slightly trembling legs to the full body mirror that she had seen before. The fact that she still didn’t have her shirt on was in the back of her mind while her eyes traced the ink. It looked even better on her ribs than it looked on the paper and she made sure to tell the other woman that, earning a smile that she doubted she would ever be able to forget.

"Here." She turned around to see Lena's hand reaching out a piece of white chalk between her long fingers and sporting a kind of smile that Kara hadn’t seen on her yet - satisfied, the type of smile you give after accomplishing a task that meant something to you. "All of my clients have to write something on the walls. It's tradition," Lena shrugged in the end.

Kara’s eyes swept through the room again, taking in the black walls and words written in almost every inch available under a new light. There were small praises, thanks, some jokes and even a few doodles, and Kara wondered what she could write that could sum up her entire experience inside Lena's tattoo shop. She took the chalk more out of instinct, her brain still working on finding the right words, and Kara took a few steps around the room until she found the right place to write.

It was just below one of Lena's drawings that were hanging from a string, between a Scooby-Doo doodle and the message of someone saying they loved their new rose tattoo. Kara’s handwriting wasn't the best one - sloppy and crooked - and it looked even worse when she was trying to write on a wall, but she managed to write her first and last name to make it look readable. Then, she added her phone number under it and put the chalk inside the small box she found just beside her. Kara turned around making sure her body would cover what she had just written, suddenly feeling too nervous about it, and accepted the plastic foil paper Lena handed her.

"Remember to put on the ointment I told you about and keep it covered so it heals. It should be all healed in a week, tops. You're free to call if you have any doubts."

Lena led the way out of the room and they found themselves once again at the reception desk. Lena picked up the pen she had played with before and scribbled something on a piece of paper beside the computer while Kara reached out for her wallet in the pocket of her trousers. Their fingers brushed when she handed Lena the money and her face flushed red for the millionth time that night. Lena gave her a knowing smile before putting the money away and just like that they realized that they would part ways soon. A small part of Kara, primal and shameless, tried to come up with any reason that would make her stay for a while longer. Anything would do, really.

Even so, there was no reason for her to stay and Kara tried to mask her unjustified sadness by joining her hands in front of her body and forcing a smile to look real. “Thank you again.”

Lena waved a hand dismissively, the pen still hanging between two fingers, before her hand came to rest on top of the other one on the desk. “It was my pleasure.”

“If I regret it in the morning, I will come back with a vengeance,” Kara joked, swaying on her heels, and the laugh that came from the other woman was worth any type of regret she might end up having in the near future.

“As much as I would like to see you again, I would hate for that to be the reason you came back.”

Lena winked at her and Kara’s mouth hang open before she could stop herself. That made the brunette laugh in delight, made a deep blush rise from her neck to her cheeks, and Kara started taking steps back before she could embarrass herself anymore. Alex, Nia and all of their friends were right: she’s a gay disaster. None of them would be able to judge her if they just saw Lena though, of that she was sure.

Stumbling over one of the chairs, Kara let out a nervous laugh and, to her utter terror, she pointed finger guns at Lena. “Have, ah, have a good night, ma’am.”

She missed the door handle twice before she was able to open the door and, by the time she looked at Lena again, the other woman was smiling broadly at her. Ducking her head, Kara walked out the door and let it close behind her. Once the slightly chill air of the night hit her face, she closed her eyes and resisted the urge to hit herself for some very stupid decisions made inside that shop. She wondered if she would ever be able to live it down if any of her friends ever found out she just did finger guns at a beautiful woman as a way to say goodbye.

Well, to be fair, she wasn’t sure any of her friends would let her live it down when they found out about her very spontaneous tattoo.

God, Alex was going to kill her. Not for getting a tattoo, but for doing so without giving it enough thought. And, for Christ’s sake, Alex could be a real pain in the ass when she decided to lecture her for whatever reason it was. She was so not ready to deal with that.

It was only when she opened her eyes again that she realized she was still standing outside the tattoo shop – and that Lena could still very easily see her from her place behind the counter – and, with another blush, Kara pushed herself to start walking. Her apartment was only five more blocks down the street and she took that time to clear her mind from anything negative she was thinking about.

If her crazy and very unusual night taught her anything was that she had the thing inside her that could make her do some very adventurous things. She was capable of doing those things. Maybe randomly getting a tattoo wasn’t the ideal way to prove that to herself, but, damn, she had just renewed faith in herself.

Her poor attempts at flirting were the last thing on her mind when she pushed the door to her studio apartment open and stepped inside, making a beeline to where she had left her laptop earlier that day on the small kitchen table. She pulled a chair after turning the computer on and, reaching out for an apple inside the fruit bowl, she waited for the laptop to come to life so she could open a new file to start typing. She had an article to write, and a trip to plan.

XxxxxxxX

It was two days later – after Alex had scolded her for making decisions in a rush, after Nia took pictures of their tattoos side by side to post on her Instagram, after Querl had awkwardly given her a thumbs up, after James raised his eyebrows, after Winn yelped in shock – that something changed.

Kara was lazily reading something Nia had written so she could suggest some corrections before the girl submitted it to Snapper’s approval, when her phone buzzed from its place beside her mousepad – her rainbow mousepad, thanks to Winn. She picked it up, thinking it was Alex inviting her for lunch so she could yell at her a few more times, but the number who had texted her was an unsaved one. She frowned, but didn’t give it much thought before unlocking her screen to read it.

“Since you didn’t barge inside my shop to kill me, I take it that you didn’t regret it?”

The smile that curled her lips up came from within her and it was apparently too obvious because Nia, who was sitting across from her, gave her a weird look and arched one eyebrow in question. Kara shook her head, biting her bottom lip, and turned her chair around so the girl couldn’t see her anymore before typing a reply.

“I never said I was going to kill you.”

“The threat was clear to me,” came the next text just a few seconds later and Kara chuckled to herself.

“Please, don’t tell me you were scared.”

“Why do you think it took me two days to reach out?”

Kara paused at that. She had spent the last two days being sure that, despite their easy flirt with each other, Lena didn’t actually want to talk or see her again. So, to have her texting her now was really... reawakening something inside her.

“Who are you texting?”

Kara jumped on her chair, startled by Nia’s voice so close to her ear all of sudden, her phone almost slipping from her fingers and crashing on the floor. Thankfully, her reflexes were still working and she was able to grab it, but not without throwing a glare at Nia for scaring her like that. The girl gave her a sheepish smile, although she shrugged and didn’t back away from where she had perched on the corner of Kara’s desk to look over her shoulder.

“No one,” came the childish, and not at all convincing, reply and Kara didn’t need to look at her friend again to know she was busted. Now Nia was not going to let it down.

“Really? Because you have been smiling to your phone for five minutes and you just smile like that when Alex says she’s bringing extra potstickers for game night.” Nia smirked and leaned over, trying to read the texts again, but Kara quickly pressed the phone against her chest to block her view.

“Alex just invited me for lunch,” Kara attempted to throw her off.

However, Nia arched her eyebrows. “Really? Because I just texted Kelly asking her to go to that vegan place with me and she said she already has plans.” A pause. “With Alex.” Another pause. “For lunch.”

Kara groaned and turned her chair so she was facing her computer again, slipping her phone screen down on the table. “Fine, it wasn’t Alex, but I’m not going to say anything.”

“Okay.” Her friend gave up way too faster than usual and Kara watched her with narrowed eyes as the girl jumped from her desk to turn the corner back to her own cubicle. Nia was about to sit down when she tried to snatch Kara’s phone away with one surprisingly fast move, but the blonde was even faster, taking it out of her reach in the last second. “Damn.”

Kara rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair, throwing it over her shoulders and slipping her phone inside one of the pockets, and threw an overly sweet, clearly fake, smile at Nia. “Now you will have to eat alone because I won’t have lunch with you either.”

Nia stuck her tongue out at her. “I will call Querl!”

Kara waited until she was safely inside the elevator before opening her texts again. There were three more texts since the last time she looked and a smile immediately spread over her face when she read them.

“Okay, I confess, I was a little nervous.”

“You still there? You didn’t change your mind, did you?”

“About the tattoo, not the... leaving your name and number on my wall thing.”

She barely noticed when someone entered the elevator a few floors below, too focused on replying to the texts.

“You? Nervous? You don’t look like the type of girl that gets nervous. And no, I didn’t change my mind about any of those things, actually.”

A new text only came after she was already walking down the street to Noonan’s, but she wrote a quick text to invite Winn for lunch before opening Lena’s text.

“I’m also not the type to text any of the numbers left on my walls. And good.”

“Do you get a lot of numbers on your walls?” Kara asked and she had to make a conscious effort to cross the street to Noonan’s instead of walking straight for a few more blocks to the tattoo shop. She could picture Lena leaning against the counter with her gorgeous smirk and her impressive tattoos – and even more impressive cleavage.

“Jack enjoys them more than I do.”

Kara was about to make a comment about Jack but another text came in before she could and she stopped in her tracks so suddenly that the man walking behind her shoved against her shoulder. She tripped over a few steps, but quickly held herself again to read the words over and over in disbelief. She hoped, of course, but that was... wow.

“I don’t want to be too straightforward here, or overly confident or something, but I have a client coming in five minutes, so I don’t have much time. This won’t sound romantic at all, but would you like to have dinner with me? Tomorrow?”

Kara didn’t have to think too much about her answer, of course. Alex would give her a piece of her mind for agreeing to go out with someone she barely knew – and ‘that’s the whole point of going out to meet people’ was not a good argument on her sister’s book – but Kara would deal with it later. Right now, she had a very gorgeous woman asking her out and she already knew what her answer would be.

“I would love to.”

“What? Really?” Kara chuckled at the rushed text she received back, but another one came just a second later. “Pretend you didn’t read that. I meant ‘okay, great!’.”

Chuckling again, Kara typed a new message. “I know you were the one who asked me out, but may I suggest a place? I don’t have a car and it’s close to both of our workplaces.”

“Whatever you want, just text me address. Let’s say, tomorrow at 7 pm?”

“Can’t wait.”

XxxxxxxX

“Hey, Kara?”

“Yes?” She asked, not taking her eyes away from her computer screen and typing away as fast as she could to be able to put all the ideas in her new article. She had never written like that before, but she wasn’t about to complain about small inspirations spikes.

“The front desk called and said there’s a pack for Cat downstairs. Can you pick it up?”

With a small sigh, not because she was mad at Winn for interrupting her but because she would have to go all out of the way to pick a pack she didn’t even know was going to come in, Kara saved her file and pushed her chair back. Nia glanced up and was about to remove her earphones, ready to follow Kara to whatever she was going to learn more about the journalism world, but the blonde made some gestures with her hand that she hoped meant ‘boring things, stay here’ before she started making her way to the elevator.

Jenny, the woman that stayed at the front desk, was kind, around Eliza’s age, and very chatty, which worked fine with Kara when she wanted to waste a few minutes talking along. “Good morning, Kara! How are you?”

“I’m great, Jenny. And you?”

“I’m fine. What happened? I recognize that smile.”

Kara tilted her head to the side, although she couldn’t stop smiling, doesn’t matter how hard she was trying. “What smile?”

Jenny narrowed her eyes and waved a finger at her playfully. “That’s the smile of someone who had a very good night.”

The blonde could feel her face heating up and a nervous chuckle escaped her lips before she could stop herself. She had been leaning against the counter, but she leaned her torso back and tapped her fingers against the hard surface nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Jenny scoffed, rolled her eyes and started pulling out the packages that she would need to take upstairs with her. There was a yellow thing that was sent by one of the photographers of the last shooting they made, some letters and a few small boxes, which made Kara believe Jenny had been holding those things with her for at least a few days. Cat hadn’t asked for any of that, so it wasn’t a problem. “Don’t tell me then. You don’t have to. Is all over your face.”

Blushing even harder, Kara huffed an anxious laugh and looked down at the counter. She put one hand on her hip as the other one raised to push her glasses up her nose, but she kept her eyes down to avoid seeing the smirk on Jenny’s face. She would have to agree with her, if she did. Because she knew it was, in fact, written all over her face. She hadn’t been able to stop smiling since she woke up that morning – who was she kidding? It had been like that since dinner last night.

It had a reason – and the reason had a name – but she was not going to share any personal details about her life with Jenny. The old woman had the tendency to share everyone’s secrets – which was another reason Kara liked to talk with her so much, but she would never admit to being a gossip girl. She did tell Nia, mostly because her friend wouldn’t stop asking why Kara was fifteen minutes late that morning, though she had made the girl promise not to tell anyone.

It was still pretty new, she had argued.

“If you two slept together, it’s not that new,” Nia had teased back, making her face turn red so fast that James, that had been coming back from the bathroom, asked if she was feeling well.

Even if the whole ‘sleeping together on the first date’ thing was new to her, Kara hadn’t regretted it in the morning. Much like the tattoo. Although, it would be remarkably harder to regret sleeping with Lena when the said woman was spooning her from behind than it was to regret a tattoo that recquired a lot of afterward care. Either way, Kara was living the best morning in her life and it clearly showed on her face.

“Looks like you’re not the only one who’s having a great time.” Jenny’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts and Kara looked up in time to see the woman pulling a big bouquet from under the counter.

The flowers looked cheap and scruffy, which made it seem like someone had just thrown them together without much care. They were yellow and pink daisies, the colors clashed and didn’t work well together, but the card hidden between the flowers was black and easy to see. She knew she shouldn’t because it had her boss’ name outside the card and it was clearly not for her to see, but curiosity took the best of her – that and the fact that the card had been clearly already open, and by Jenny’s face she knew who had done it.

“Thank you – L”

Well, that wasn’t helpful at all.

Sighing and feeling silly for stealing a look, she put the card back and started to try to find a way to pick everything she needed to take back with her. She knew there was a small cart some other companies in the building used to transport stocks and other products, but she was sure she could use her hands if she just pilled everything right. Kara had just come up with a plan when Jenny spoke again.

“There’s also this one. It doesn’t have a card, but it came with the bouquet. Same delivery. The guy couldn’t say anything about it, but I’m sure we can find something if we call the shop and...”

“I think there’s no need,” Kara interrupted gently, without looking up from the growing pile in one of her hands, but she raised her head eventually.

Only to lose track of every thought she was having.

Jenny had put a single plumeria on top of the counter. As the woman had said, there was no card or any type of identification – who it came from or who was supposed to receive it – but Kara connected the dots quite easily. Smiling, she reached over to grab the simple flower and brought it closer to her face to smell it.

“Oh, I see.”

“I have to go!” Kara said suddenly, knowing everyone in the building would know she had just randomly smelled a flower at the front desk that morning. “See you, Jen!”

The look on Cat’s face when Kara gave her the bouquet, not offering any other explanation othan than that there was a card attached to it, was worth every step on the stairs she had to walk up, holding the woman’s coffee every morning. As soon as she was back to her desk, Kara pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a text before Nia could start asking any questions.

“Thought you said that you’re not good with romance.”

The reply didn’t come right away, Kara ended up putting her phone to the side and went back to work. However, as soon as it rang beside her, she grabbed it.

“Guess we’re both learning new things about ourselves. Want to have lunch together?”

And, yes, she totally did.

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shirophantomvox · 3 years

Text

Hold My Hand- Illumi x Reader

OMG thank you! My first international fan! Thank you for this wonderful prompt! This was requested by @illucilfer .

Summary: Today’s story takes place in a 1950s diner by a frequently used Interstate; Interstate 95. We know this dinner for its delicious hamburgers, hot dogs, milkshakes, and jukebox records, but every night one Patreon never returns home. A few men who were angry about your recent arrest have shot you both. As you both stare at each other exchanging mental signals, everyone around you tries to help you to the hospital. Y/N is narrating the story. I seem to have fewer grammar errors that way. FYI, Bold and italicized font will reference a thought or flashback.

Story Navigation

Let’s get started!

The leaves have turned bright yellow and orange, fluttering every second to the ground. I could hear little children a while away laughing and playing in the community park; throwing up the leaves, jumping into piles, and throwing them at each other. The smell of freshly baked donuts brightened everyone’s mood. All you had to do was take one bite and your face would brighten and crack a smile. Dining at Cupid’s Kitchen will always have your heart and interest.

Interstate 95 was always heavy with traffic during this time of year. The folks of Dallas celebrated mulch annually. The “Mulch Fest” was a street fair that stretched 1.5 miles to the east that contained music, drinks, farmer panels, homemaker Q&A, and other activities that southerners enjoy. Illumi and I are only here because of an unfinished assignment. We have worked night and day for countless days trying to catch Jack “Da Hamor” Gilberton, but he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I allowed my anger to get the best of me and made the executive decision to take a day off. I barred Illumi from searching, tracking, or any form of hunting for our target. The life of a bounty hunter and an assassin can thrill, but it can drive you insane if you allow it.

Ironically, Illumi and I both enjoy fall. It is perfect for cuddling (although he acts as if he’s too good to cuddle), wearing creative hoodies, going to pumpkin patches, and attending apple orchids. I tend to “lose my cool” when we have dates there. When I was a child, my family did not go on trips like these because they were over an hour away from our home and I had 5 siblings. But once I made money for myself, I made it my mission to go to one at least 5 times out of the year. Illumi enjoys the different fudge, hot cider, and candy apples. He almost broke a tooth on one!

“Say cheese snag-a’-tooth!”

“Stop it. It’s not funny!”

“It is! Could you imagine if you lost your two front teeth? You’d look almost adorable as you did in the 1st grade!”

“How did you know about that?”

“Duh! It happens to everyone, but your mother showed me the pictures, of course.”

“Curses!”

Illumi’s sweet tooth is just like Killua’s; both have a weakness for chocolate. Except, Killua will admit defeat while his older brother keeps denying it.

Cupid’s Dinner has been in Dallas for over 55 years. A black woman established it in 1945 by the name of Mary-Lou Benson. Since then, Mary’s family has been running the shop, making sure all of her customers are happy with the service. During the turn of each season, Cupid’s Dinner gives its customer's food options based on the season. The fall options include donuts, candy apples, different flavored cider, fudge, and hot coffee specials. As much as everything looked appetizing, I could not order it all. Our server, Little Ben, placed our drinks in front of us and handed us the menu. I could tell he was happy with his line of work, just as I was to be with Illumi.

“You all take your time. I’ll be back in five.”

Ilumi glanced on both sides of the room, scanning for Jack Gilberton, already forgetting the agreement we established.

“Illumi, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You keep looking around like you’ve seen Da Hamor. Eat your donut and relax, sweetheart.”

“I cannot relax. I must stay on alert.”

“If I can relax, so can you. It’s not that hard.”

“Fine. If I die, it’s on your head… literally.”

The jingling bell rang almost every second when a customer walked in. It was a joy to everyone's ears; the spirit of Mary Lou-Benson was alive and well. An overwhelming feeling of love seemed to have overtaken the diner. After examining the bistro for quite some time now, each customer had been using their cellphones at the table instead of chatting with their families. Many traditional families hated that about this generation but they should be open to new traditions forming. Illumi dislikes using cell phones or tablets at the table unless we use them for missions. He has emphasized how rude it is to be surfing the web about utter nonsense while someone is speaking. This is a pet peeve of his, something I’ll never step on his toe about. Although I think that is overdoing it, I respect it.

Little Ben served our table quickly, leaving us with two dishes of a classic chicken sandwich, kettle chips, one chocolate, and vanilla milkshake. Milkshakes were my weakness; I nearly foam at the mouth when I see one. When I found out that Illumi had NEVER had a milkshake, I almost fainted.

“No. I’ve never had a milkshake.”

“Huh? You’re missing out, pal.”

“What’s the big deal? Isn’t it frozen milk?”

“Not just frozen milk. You can add many flavors, toppings, and whip cream!”

“Well, then. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

We thanked Little Ben for his service as he clocked out for the day.

“I have to admit these sandwiches look very appetizing.”

“You can say that again!”

Before I nibbled on my sandwich, I wanted to take a moment and adore the man before me; Illumi Zoldyck. A man full of mysteries, professionalism, skill, and talent. His enormous eyes were immersed in the large pieces of chicken in between the sourdough bread. He licked his index finger vigorously; allowing the homemade honey mustard to drip enough from the bread to the plate in between licks. Just the sight of him actually relaxing for once has blown me away. For once, Illumi Zoldyck could be himself and I had the privilege to witness it.

“Um… why are you staring at me? Do I have food on my face,” he asked; violently wiping his mouth off with a provided cloth napkin.

“Oh! Ha, ha; no reason. I wanted to see your reaction after drinking your milkshake. That’s all.”

“Why? It’s just a drink.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Babe? What happened to LuLu or Illumi-Lu?”

I gasped and pretended to be surprised… although I was a little.

“I did not know that you liked those pet names. I assumed it mortified you.”

“Who told you that? That never rolled off my tongue. “What I said was” — He bent closer to the table and to me; glancing both to the right and left to ensure no wandering ears were around — “I prefer Illumi-Lu to be said in the bedroom and LuLu when we’re alone, like how we are right now.”

“Aww…. ok,” I yelled in excitement.

“Don’t blow it out of proportion, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

As we ate, Illumi hummed along to the tune that played a few times on the restaurant's jukebox. Illumi and I were born in the mid-90s, but listening to 50s music was a part of his aesthetic. I was told that he had an “old soul” which sounds romantic at first until you realize how men were during that era. His raging temper was a noticeable toxic trait, but it has drastically improved. Nonchalantly sipping on his milkshake and then eating more of his chips, he grazed the soft part of his left hand over mine as he continued to hum.

“What’s the name of this song? You seem to know it rather well.”

“Put your head on my shoulder, a famous song from the 60s. I heard my parents sing it once and since then, they have addicted me to it. Do you like it?”

“Yes, in fact, I love it. All of this is—”

“A surprise to you? Well, enjoy it while it lasts because once I find Jack Gilberton, this side of me will hide for a while.”

“Understood.”

Damn! I was just feeling connected to him again!

The music swelled; everyone seemed to be happy. Not an evil spirit insight to disrupt this beautiful moment. For once in my life, my raven-haired beauty actually held my hand tight, stole a few of my barbecue kettle chips, and gazed into my eyes harmlessly. His lips brushed against both of my hands, ever so lightly placing kisses on both sides of them. Illumi’s gentle smile warmed my heart as my lingering thoughts of hope stayed intact.

The welcoming bell jingled again. Two men in black leather jackets, stone-washed blue jeans, and tattooed all over their arms came into the diner. The men seemed to be bikers who had just left their own “spot” but one thing struck me as they continued to walk towards the staff. They both wore sunglasses when the sunset for the day. Not to mention that the lights were not dim in the diner and the moon was as bright as ever. The second man had his eyes glued in my direction. My heart beat faster as I wondered if Jack Gilberton had found us. Could you imagine?

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me oh-so-tight

Show me you love me too

I am used to coming in contact with enemies on my hit list, but given Jack’s criminal history; I felt like I may not survive his attacks. Illumi will survive, but just barely. Both men approached the checkout, crowing over Little Ben’s sister. She was a short woman but full of might, and I could tell by the shakiness in her voice she was frightened. I wanted to step in so badly, but I didn't want to blow my cover just in case it was, in fact, Jack Gilberton. After I assume, ordering food, both men stood by the entrance, blocking it from others from entering and leaving. The sound of their old, beat up-lighters crackled as one lit a joint and the other lit a cigarette. This horrid smell ruined the atmosphere because they were not in a designated area and it drowned out the lovely aroma of the food being served.

“If you gentlemen would like to smoke, you need to go outside. There is no smoking in here.”

“What? You think you’re better than me because you don’t smoke?”

“Huh? I never said that, sir. I asked for you to go outside. Not all of our customers can deal with it.”

They did not move a muscle. The sound of their mucous laughter made everyone’s stomach turn. They laughed at the young girl and called her many slurs. Little Ben’s sister didn’t flinch, nor did she cry; she remained still, staring at the men. I had just enough of their obnoxious behavior.

“If you do not leave, I will call the police.”

“The hell you won’t.”

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won't you kiss me once, baby?

He drew a gun from his left side. He aimed it at Little Ben’s sister and demanded that she emptied the drawer. She refused. Her stone, iron will reminded me of Illumi; no matter the circumstance, they remained intact, determined to fight until the end. Bravery is always encouraged, but too much will cause your life to be taken away. Little Ben’s sister grabbed a fake till that they kept under the real one and threw it at both men. Fake money fluttered everywhere in the small diner, mimicking confetti. Gunshots rang in all directions as the imbeciles recklessly shot, aiming for Little Ben’s sister. Everyone threw themselves on the ground to avoid being shot, but luck cannot spread itself throughout an entire room of people. A young child, an older man, and another worker were shot in their lower leg. Blood reflected from the ground as it continued to seep. Ignoring injured civilians is a jackass move and continuing to deny the fact would prove that the oath I pledge to meant nothing. Sure, bounty hunters must remain hidden, but if someone is injured, I must help them.

The child was lying lifeless on the polished marble floor. He would not respond to my shaking or my silent whispers. When I rolled him over, my heart broke into a million pieces. This child had no chance of survival; a few bullets struck his chest, one just inches away from his heart. A tear rolled down my cheek.

“Why must the good die young,” I whispered to myself.

“... Because snitches get stitches.”

Before I could gain sight of who stated this utterly corny response, I felt an overwhelming amount of pain in my lower back. It felt like a million tiny needles were jabbed so far through my skin that they entered my intestine. I could still hear, but my body would not move. I tried and tried, but my brain would not signal my legs.

Move! Move, damn it!

It’s odd; I could hear myself talk, but my body would not move at all. The sound of another thudding body made my mind jump. My heart had already been pounding enough to try to resuscitate my organs to move, but a familiar semi-blurring sight of none other than Mr. Illumi Zoldyck cleared my sight. My brain went wild. I didn’t know if Illumi died or if he became paralyzed, but one thing is for sure. We finally made eye contact that felt special; something I hadn’t felt since the day I met him. Our contact felt like magnets; an unbreakable bond. Suddenly, my icy hand felt warmth around my palm and fingers. Illumi simultaneously fell in a way that connected our hands. Our unbreakable bond, the warmth of his fingers laying on top of mine, and the gaze we shared somehow made me feel like it was just the two of us alone. I could hear his thoughts loud and clear; thoughts that came from the heart.

“Please help me. Before it’s too late, LuLu,” I cried, thinking I was going insane. “I don’t want to leave if it means leaving you behind.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

“Please! I want to live a life. Life as a bounty hunter, build a support system to our children, and a good lover is all I want to be.”

“You are a warrior and so am I. We have been through worse. This is nothing.”

Mere eye contact is all we need to exchange wandering conversations. The bond that we’ve created is something so strong that I haven’t realized it until now. The warmth emitted from his loose grasp seems to lose its effectiveness. It blurred my vision beyond recognition, leaving Illumi as a near figment of my imagination.

“Oh no. I guess this is it.”

My vision darkened. Illumi was slipping away as my lingering thoughts almost made my heart give out from exhaustion. I was ready to accept my fate, but it seemed like fate had other plans. My vision was still darkening by the second, but my sense of touch remained there. Smooth fingers outline my arms, torso, and chest. I heard muffled voices yelling and screaming about calling for assistance, but I didn’t care if they came or not. I made peace with my life’s end. Bit by bit, my breathing slowed down, but my sense of touch remained heightened. I felt a rubber glove touch my face and neck, examining it for any damage.

The jukebox continued to play Illumi’s favorite song, Put Your Head on my Shoulder. I remembered the day I laid my head on his shoulder; boy, what an endearing moment that was. It was something I took for granted, something I should have savored, for I never knew that this moment would have happened. The song grew muffled by the second verse. That verse repeated every time I tried to force myself to take what felt like my last gaze at my raven-haired beauty.

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe

You and I will fall in love (you and I will fall in love)

-FIN.

A/N: Since you’ve made it to the end, I’ll say something. The reader did not die in the end. They were later revived at the hospital.

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ravennm84 · 4 years

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Lyre Festival Justice

Here is the sequel to Lyre Festival Fraud where you get to see exactly what happened to Lila during her long weekend after she went back to Italy. I thought, at first, that I may have gone to far with the salt... But it’s Lila and I really don’t like her character. So, Warm-Fuzzies and enjoy this salty goodness!!

It was a beautiful day in Rome and Lila was enjoying her shopping spree around the city. She and her mother had spent the first few days after moving back to Italy unpacking and getting settled. It was Sunday, and her mother had to go to the embassy to make sure that all of her paperwork had transferred from Paris, which gave Lila the opportunity to spend the money she’d gotten from the idiots from her old class. Really, she couldn’t believe how stupid they all were to have just handed her over €2,000 for a luxury vacation in Venice. She should have gotten at least €3,000 from the class, but that Mari-brat and stick-in-the-mud Adrien had convinced some of them that she was lying. Oh well, €2,000 was better than nothing.

Best part, none of it could be traced back to her. They travelled to Venice on their own, nothing had been written down, her old mobile phone was disconnected and in a landfill somewhere, and she would just tell her mother that she had gotten all her new clothes at a thrift shop she remembered from the last time they’d been living in Rome. And if the idiots got in trouble and tried to say that she was involved, she’d turn on the tears and her mother would side with her like she always did. Seeing a little cafe, she stopped in to get a good cappuccino, it had been too long since she’d had a deceit cup of coffee.

It was mid afternoon by the time she got home. She had made a stop at the thrift store to grab a couple of their shopping bags to hide the real ones inside. It felt wrong to put a Versace skirt in a bargain bag, but one does what one must to keep her life going smoothly. Opening the door to the apartment, she barely caught sight of her mother sitting on the couch before Lila started gushing about how great it was to be back in Italy and all the things she’d missed.

She prattled on for a couple minutes before noticing that her mother hadn’t said anything. Turning to look at her, Lila flinched when she saw her. Something was seriously wrong, the last time she had seen her mother so angry was when she’d told her that her dad was cheating on her. That hadn’t been true but they had ended up getting divorced anyway, which was to Lila’s benefit since the man had always called her out on her lies.

“Is everything okay, Mama?” She asked cautiously, doing her best to sound and appear small and innocent.

“Sit down.”

Her tone left no room for argument. Lila set down her bags and sat in the chair across from her mother.

“Mama, wha-”

“Be quiet!” She snapped, and Lila shut her mouth. This actually seemed worse than the fight her parents had before they divorced. “I received a very strange email on Friday night, from a former classmate of yours in Paris. It seemed that the majority of your class was under the impression that we were throwing a party for a lot of important politicians, celebrities, and musicians on a private island and you had invited them. I told myself, ‘not my daughter, she would never do something like that’. But the email went on, with a list of the students that were supposedly going on this trip and gave you money for the expenses. Again, I thought ‘Lila would never be so cruel as to steal money from her friends right before we left Paris’. So I told the person who sent me that detailed information, that I would handle it. I still thought it was a joke.”

The teenage girl didn’t even have to listen to the end of this story, she knew that goody-two-shoes Marinette had ratted her out. Lila was fighting every instinct she had to run and lock herself in her room, but if she moved even a little her mother would stop her. She could only sit there and hope that she could come up with some kind of lie to convince her mother that she was being set up.

“Then when I went into the embassy today, my boss pulled me into his office and started grilling me as to why I allowed seven unaccompanied minors entry into the country. I tried to explain that I had no idea what he was talking about, and then he started reading off the names. Do you want to guess why those names sounded so familiar?”

By this point, Lila was practically curling into herself to make herself appear smaller. She had to say something, any lie that would make her mother believe her and only her. Turning on the tears, she buried her face in her hands and spoke between sobs. Fake crying always gave her a few extra seconds to think before she had to speak. “I swear, Mama. I didn’t want to do it. Marinette forced me to take those papers from your office to give to our classmates so they could get into the country without their parents. I never took any money from them, I swear! Marinette was bullying me the entire time we were in Paris, I was scared of what she’d do to me if I didn’t do what she said. You’ve got to believe me!”

“So you’re saying that you didn’t tell your class about some non-existent party on a private island, had no knowledge of who was coming into Italy, where they were going, or anything like that?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed as she brought out her mobile phone.

Her hands were shaking as she kept her face buried in her hands, something about her mother’s tone and the way she spoke made this feel like a trap. But she couldn’t backtrack now, Marinette was her way out and she had to stick with it. So she nodded as she continued to sob into her hands.

“Then please explain this to me.” Her mother turned the phone towards her and Lila looked up, her face falling in horror when she heard her own voice. It was a video of her telling her class about who was going to be at the party that she and her mom were organizing, how she was going to need to know for sure who all was coming before the weekend, and Marinette had somehow gotten video of Alya and Nino each handing her €300!

It took longer than she would like to admit for the shock to wear off, but she was smart enough to stick to her original story. “It’s fake! Marinette must have made it to get me in trouble. Max probably helped her, he’s really good with computers. It’s all too convenient to be true. I mean, she sends you all this information about which people are going, how much money they gave me, and a story about a party on a private island in Venice, that anyone would be able to see is clearly fake. Can’t you see that I’m being set up?”

Her mother’s eyes grew harder as she stood from her chair, causing Lila to shrink even further into her own.

“You say that this is all a set up and you had no idea where your classmates were going in Italy, but you just told me the exact city where they were found. You left them waiting on a dock for you to come ferry them to that non-existent private island, and don’t even bother saying that you know which city because of the video I just showed you, because it never names the city they were in.”

Well, crap. She was about to try another tactic, but her mother cut her off before the first syllable left her mouth.

“Young lady, do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?” she yelled, her face beginning to turn a purplish-red and began pacing the room. “You forged my signature on multiple federal documents, endangered the lives of multiple minors, committed theft, and god knows how many other laws you’ve broken. I can’t protect you from this! You will be facing federal charges for what you’ve done!”

Lila felt her stomach drop to her ankles. “But-but that was all in Paris, and I had diplomatic immunity while I was there!”

“It became an international incident when you forged an ambassador’s signature on federal documents that endangered minors! My boss gave me a choice,” her voice grew even harder and colder than before. “Either you answer for what you’ve done and plead guilty, or I lose my job and we both go to trial for what you’ve done.”

“You’d let me go to jail for one little lie? It’s not like anyone got hurt!” Lila screamed, standing from her chair in a panic. This was much worse than she’d imagined.

“And what if they had been?” Her mother screamed back. “What if they had been kidnapped and sold into human trafficking? What if one of them had fallen off the dock and drowned in the channel or hit by a boat? I would be held responsible for that because you forged my signature! Do you not care about the people around you at all? What is wrong with you?”

“But nothing happened to them! It’s their own fault for being stupid enough to believe such an obvious lie. And you’re taking their side over mine? How dare you call yourself my mother and claim to love me!”

“Don’t you dare try to blame me for your bad behavior!” Her mother yelled back as she advanced on her, making her fall back onto the chair. Mme. Rossi looked back at the shopping bags she had knocked over when she had turned, revealing the Versace bag. Tilting her head back, she took multiple deep breaths before looking at her daughter.

“This is what’s going to happen. You are going to return everything you bought today, and you are going to explain to the managers of each store exactly why you are returning everything.” Lila was about to protest, but one look from her mother had her mouth snapping shut. “We will also be clearing out your savings to pay back your classmates for the money you took, their travel expenses, their parents travel expenses, and any money they lost while being away from their jobs to retrieve their children. After that, you will be standing trial for forgery and fraud. If you know what’s good for you, you will go before the judge and apologize profusely for what you’ve done and listen to everything the judge tells you. If you’re lucky you may receive a lenient sentence; but either way, you can expect your next school to be a reformatory school. And if you try to fight me on any of this, I will let a court appointed attorney with no experience handle your case instead of the family lawyer. Have I made myself clear?”

No longer having to fake her tears, Lila nodded to her mother, resigning herself to the fact that her life had been ruined because her mother didn’t love her and Marinette didn’t know how to keep her nose out of where it didn’t belong.

~oOo~

The rest of the day, Lila was forced to return everything that she bought back to the stores and tell the managers how she had stolen the money from her classmates and then abandoned them in a country and city that they weren’t familiar with. The people that overheard her were horrified by what she had done and the managers banned her from ever shopping in those stores again. After all, if she was willing to steal money from her friends, there was little doubt that she would steal from the stores.

After everything was returned, she was taken to the embassy where they recorded her confession on how she lied to everyone, forged her mother’s signature on the documents she stole, and how she scammed over €2,000 from her former classmates. After the confession was taped, she was taken outside of the embassy and handed over to the police to be kept in a juvenile detention center. She screamed at her mother, not believing that she would just hand her over like that, but the woman looked down her nose at her and said, “It’s time for you to face the consequences of your actions, young lady.”

When she arrived at the police station, she was relieved to see their family lawyer was waiting for her, although he was less than thrilled by what she had done. He explained that even as a minor, she could be serving 2-6 years just for the forgery of the documents, that wasn’t even factoring in the scam or reckless endangerment of seven minors. If she were to be tried as an adult, she could be serving 6 years for each document, facing serious fines and more time for each classmate she endangered.

After hearing that, Lila had to rush to the trash can to throw up. She couldn’t believe that one little lie could get her into so much trouble. But this wasn’t her fault, none of it was. If there was anyone to blame, it was that goody-two-shoes Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all the effort she went through to destroy that girl, she just wouldn’t back down. She would make that girl pay for what she’d done. As soon as the charges were all dropped, she would do everything she could, use every dirty trick in the book to force the nosy girl to end her life and stay out of hers.

But that would have to wait for now. For the time being, she would do what her mother said and play her part. Act like the innocent girl that had gotten caught up in her own fibs while trying to make friends in a new country. She didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt or in trouble, she was just so overwhelmed and she is so sorry for everything that happened. She would need to cry a lot, that was a given, but she could do this. Just fake it until she could get her revenge on the girl that ruined her life.

~oOo~Three Months Later~oOo~

Lila hadn’t meant to lose control in front of the judge. She’d spent months locked away with a bunch of low-class delinquents, talking to different lawyers and quack-doctors before going to court. She had been the picture of innocence and childhood regret the second she walked into the courtroom, she was sure to get off all the charges against her. But she and her lawyer had been blindsided.

The quack-doctors had called her a narcissist and a sociopath, in need of desperate help. To prove that, all of her lies, everything she had said while in Paris had been brought into evidence against her. They’d exposed her truancy and forgery at her old school, found proof of her purposefully getting Marinette expelled, and faking interviews on the Ladyblog which brought her more lawsuits from a bunch of the celebrities she’d lied about.

Some of her classmates had come to give testimony on what she had done and said during her time in Paris. The goodie-two-shoes brat had even come to Italy to give testimony against her, though Lila hadn’t been allowed in the courtroom while she was there, as Marinette hadn’t felt safe to be in the same room. Lila’s lawyer had actually agreed, probably so she wouldn’t cause a scene. And she probably would have. She would have stabbed her in the face with a pencil, in front of the entire courtroom, if she had the chance.

But the worst had to do with the school security cameras. After M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier had been fired for neglectful and abusive behavior to their students, which had been brought about by the investigation into Marinette’s expulsion, the Board of Governors went farther back through the recordings to see how long the bullying had been going on. What they found was video evidence of Lila grabbing an akuma out of the air and putting it into her earring, and then willingly working with the known terrorist.

To make matters even worse, Ladybug and Chat Noir had sent a video as testimony of the times Lila had purposefully interfered with their rescues and had led Chat away from Ladybug to make her more vulnerable to the akuma Oni-chan. Her lawyer tried to get the video stricken from evidence as he couldn’t cross-examine the two heroes, but it was denied.

Her parents had been sitting behind her when they showed those videos. When her mother saw them, it was like she completely shut down. She heard her say that she wanted to leave, and Lila watched as her father helped her mother to her feet and lead her out of the courtroom without looking back.

The judge had been absolutely disgusted with her, going as far as to call her a monster for willingly aiding a terrorist. Since she had already confessed to multiple counts of forgery, fraud, and reckless endangerment of minors, and would now be adding slander and other charges from her time in Paris, the most notable being terrorism; he declared that she would be tried as an adult and was likely to spend the rest of her life in prison.

She’d completely lost it at that point, screaming at the top of her lungs as she jumped over the table to attack the judge. She didn’t remember smashing the water pitcher against one guard's head, scratching another guard across the face, or getting tasered in the back. When she woke up, she was strapped to a bed by her wrists and ankles, her head felt really foggy, and there were a bunch of nurses and orderlies that were keeping keen eyes on her.

Lila Rossi spent the rest of her life heavily medicated in a maximum security mental health hospital. Most every night, the nurses would hear her plotting some kind of scheme to show everyone what a loser Marinette was, but then she would trail off about how she wanted to hear the song Jagged Stone wrote for her or the album she’d help Clara Nightingale write. When she saw people, she would ramble and lie about being a princess or a secret agent, and that she was only here to keep her safe until they came to get her. Over the years, it was all written off as the insane ramblings of a very disturbed girl that would be remaining at the hospital for the rest of her life.

#lila salt #lila gets exposed #lila karma #ml fic #lila lies

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imagineabrighterworld · 3 years

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{Flowers} Midoriya x Reader

Summary// Soulmate!AU where everyone has different soulmate markers. Yours happens to be that flowers bloom where your soulmate gets injured. You just happen to be paired with the boy who breaks his bones daily.

Buds and small blossoms were the norm for you as a child. You would find yourself with little blooms on your palms or on your knees, your mother explaining that that meant your soulmate hurt themself. Maybe tripped or bumped into a table.

Your mom told you how the buds that bloomed on your cheeks meant someone was being mean.

As a teen you realize that the flowers on your body meant cruel things and cruel people.

"Hang on out there." You whisper to the flower on your shoulder, its soft petals tickling your skin. You wished you could talk to your soulmate through your skin like your mothers, how they could write on their skin and see the message on each other, or sing and hear the others voice like your uncle had with his wife. But you and your soulmate were connected by flowers.

What was going on in their life to have so many flowers? Sometimes you could feel phantom pains on your stomach as small bruise colored blossoms grew on your skin, or feel the sharp sting of a slap on your cheek the color of yellow daisies.

One day you're walking down the street when you bump into a green haired boy. You were in a good mood, lately there hadn't been new flowers on your body, which had to mean your soulmate was having a good week.

"Hi." You smile at the boy whose face immediately turns pink.

"H-Hi!" He stutters, his hand immediately going to the back of his neck. "Sorry for bumping into you, I should've been watching- not watching you! But watching out! You know- like how you walk and- and yeah.."

You chuckle. He was cute. Covered in freckles and with bright green eyes like the leaves of a tulip. "Don't worry about it." You hold out your hand and introduce yourself. "How about you?"

He shyly takes your hand. His grip is surprisingly stronger than you expected. "I'm Izuku Midoriya."

"Nice to meet you Midoriya." You smile and shake his hand firmly. "Guess I'll see you around."

"Y-Yeah." He smiles.

He smiles and for a moment the world slows to a stop.

You suck in a breath and hold onto your smile as you continue walking.

It's when you enter highschool that the flowers return.

You're in the middle of orientation when deep purple hellebores sprout from your finger. You flex your hand and feel the ghostly pains of a broken bone. Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you listen to the droning of your homeroom teacher.

What happened to start the cycle again? Why was your soulmate hurting? Who was hurting them?

For the first weeks of school, you're stuck with that question as you do nightly checks. Your arms were constantly covered in flowers, and if you were capable of laughing at something so serious, you would debate selling bouquets with the flowers you were growing.

The day of the U.A. Sports Festival you sit between your moms and listen to the pro hero Present Mic as he introduces the classes.

Your mom cheers from your left. "We’ll get to see the first years that survived the villain attack!"

Your mother on your right chuckles. "You say it like it was planned darling, they're only kids. They're probably scarred."

Your moms debate the mental health of the 1-A first years as you watch the students from your spot in the stands. The blooms were getting better and had receded, showing your soulmate had healed which allowed you to focus on the games below.

But then a new set of questions popped up.

Would your soulmate be watching too? Were they interested in the sports festival? Were they quirkless? Did they have a quirk? Did they want to be a hero? You couldn't stop the questions that flowed freely in your mind.

You lean on your palm with your elbow resting on your knee. Your face lights up with surprise as you spot a familiar face in the crowd of students from Class A.

"Hey I know that boy!" You point to Midoriya and tug on your moms sleeves. A smile forms on your face. You didn't know he was going to U.A. but then again you never asked. You didn't think to ask.

"I never got his number though."

Your mother hums. "Too bad, he's cute."

Your mom pats your back. "You can try after the games are over."

During the first and second event, you keep your eyes glued to Midoriya. He was a good strategist. Even if he hadn't shown his quirk yet, you could see how skilled he was. It was a far cry from how you met him. Stuttering and shy. He was confident now, albeit a little emotional. He felt different to you.

"You can do it!" You whisper to yourself, your hands clenched as you see him step up to begin his match. You believed in him!

"Welcome to the first match of the finals tournament!"

From above you could see the student across from him begin to speak. Obviously you couldn't catch what was being said, but you had high hopes for Midoriya!

"Ready? Begin!"

Midoriya begins to run forward, but right as he nears the middle of the platform, he freezes in place and stays there. You feel a shiver run through your body as you watch him. Why was he staying still?

"The fight has just begun and Izuku Midoriya is completely frozen!"

The other boy’s lips start to move. Midoriya turns around and begins to walk back to his side of the ring.

No. He starts walking to get off of the platform.

“What is he doing?” Your mom mutters, “Silly boy, he's supposed to be heading the other way!”

Your mother murmurs in agreement. “Could it be his opponent’s quirk?”

You didn't quite care as you stood up from your spot and began yelling. “Come on Midoriya! You can do it! Don't give up!”

He was just a step away from the border of the platform when a giant blast of wind came from his hand. At that moment you felt the ghostly pains of your index and middle finger snap. Baby’s-breath grew from your fingers.

You look down at your hand in horror as the announcer screams over the intercom.

"What's this! Midoriya stopped just in time!"

Midoriya was an inch away from the platform, but all your focus was on the flowers that bloomed on your skin. Flowers in the same place as his injuries.

You sit back down, ignoring your mothers as they continue cheering when Midoriya goes back into action. You don't see what happens next, all you hear is that Midoriya won.

On went the battles, but your focus was on your hand and the flowers that slowly fell off as the broken fingers were healed.

When his next match came, you looked up from your stupor. He was fighting a boy who had so far sweeped his way through to the finals. A part of you wanted to cheer Midoriya on, knowing that his match would be a tough one, but the other part was reeling in horror at what would become of his body. He broke his bones using his quirk.

Day in and day out, you had seen flowers grow on you, and you never had a face to link them to.

Cuts, bruises, burns, broken bones.

All from him.

You don't watch his match, all you hear and feel is the shattering ice of his opponent and the flowers that burst from your skin in waves of color. First his fingers, then his arms.

The match ends, and you are left sitting with hydrangeas and hibiscus, poppies and peonies all littering your arms as if you were a living garden.

“Sweetie what happened?” Your mother finally asks from beside you, or maybe you just weren't listening before. “Could your soulmate be that boy- hey!”

You stand up and push your way through the crowds, running down the line of stairs and around the stadium. The students were in seats across from you, which meant they had to have an entrance nearby.

A door lay in front of you, blocked by several Pro Heroes. You transform into a butterfly, not caring about the pain that rattled through your body at shifting into such a small creature as you fly past their watch and enter the stadium reserved for the students.

You fly past doors marked as waiting rooms until you reach the recovery center.

The door was cracked open, and inside you could see him. He was bandaged up, his body covered in scratches and bruises.

You shift back into a human and slam your flower coated fists on a nearby table.

His eyes open and he straightens up on the recovery bed, wincing in pain when he moves his arms. His eyes were dull with pain, but they had the same light in them as when you had met him for the first time.

Did that light drive him to hurt himself so much?

“You again- how did you get in here?” He sits up properly.

Your eyes are full of tears as you look at his casts.

“You.” You wipe at your eyes, spreading pollen across your face. “I've been a living garden for fifteen years and all you have to say is how did you get in here?”

You can hear the confusion in his voice as he mumbles a small “I’m sorry?”.

Summoning a claw, you pierce the side of your neck and make a thin line.

From his neck, carnations bloom from his skin at the same site of your wound.

His eyes widen in realization.

You both stay silent until you let out a breathy laugh. Now he knew. Now the cogs were turning. You were always so careful to not get hurt to keep from scaring your soulmate, but did he ever put in the same care?

“We’re soulmates..” He whispers.

“For fifteen years.” You repeat silently. “For fifteen years, I’ve had sleepless nights, knowing you were being hurt. For fifteen years you gave me flowers. Looking at flower shops were so painful because they reminded me of you. I couldn't even stand being at my uncle’s wedding because the arrangements reminded me of your pain.”

“I’m-”

You hold up your hand. “Why do you hurt yourself so much? Why go through so much pain? This quirk.. Is it so important for you to become a hero if all you get out of it is pain?”

With blurred vision and eyes stinging from tears, you look at Midoriya who had a quiet look of contemplation on his face. It takes a beat before he looks you in the eyes.

“I want to become a hero that brings a smile to people’s faces. A hero you can rely on.” His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps. “A hero you can rely on. I never meant to make you cry. I'm sorry.”

You slump down to the floor. You hear him squeak and jump down from the bed, letting out a string of “ow’s” before crouching in front of you.

“Really, I’m sorry-”

You place a hand over his mouth and give him a stern look. “Just shut up.”

“Yes ma'am.” He mumbles from behind your hand, his face obscured by the flowers on your hand.

“Ma’am?” A small laugh threatens to escape you.

“I say things when I get nervous..”

Despite the weight of the emotions you had been carrying, you finally laugh.

He leans away from your hand, a blush on his cheeks as you hold you cover your own mouth to try and tame your laughter.

“So um.. Im free Sunday. If you want to talk about how this'll work..?” He questions meekly.

You wipe your eyes and smile. “I’d like that.”

Extra//

You hang upside down from a tree as you watch Midoriya train. He had come over for dinner but as you waited for your moms to finish cooking, you both took to the outside. He had looked to your training grounds in awe and quickly pleaded with you to try out the course.

“It’s my mother’s, not mine, go ahead.” And how could you deny his bright eyes and smile? The damned thing could light an entire city.

He was nearly drenched in sweat by the time he stopped his run through of the course and his small session of shadow boxing. He wipes away his sweat with the back of his hand and sits down under the tree where you hung like a bat.

“Nice huh?”

“Yeah. What does your mother do to have a space like this?”

“She's a hero. But she patrols the west region. She comes back every few weeks to visit us.”

He bonks you on the head as he looks up in amazement. “She's the Transformation Hero Mystique?!”

You quirk a brow. “Bingo. How'd you get that?”

“Lucky guess.” He mumbles sheepishly.

“You saw her hero costume didn’t you.” You ask bluntly.

He fiddles with his scarred fingers. “I may have taken a detour when I went to the bathroom..”

You turn your head and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Silly boy.”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha izuku #bnha midoriya #bnha Izuku midoriya #bnha Midoriya x reader #boku no hero academia Midoriya x reader #mha #my hero academia #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #mha izuku #mha midoriya #mha Izuku midoriya #mha Midoriya x reader #my hero academia Midoriya x reader #- beta Zetzal

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nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

-The One-

Warnings: very very mild knifeplay, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), fingering, creampie, light navel play, tiny mention of blood, rituals, themes of witchcraft + demons, jealousy, sir kink, master kink, threesome, aftercare.

Felix × fem!Reader × Minho

Wc: 3k

Note: I stayed up all night writing this and was half-asleep so I apologize for any mistakes or incoherencies. Regardless, I’m quite proud of this fic hehe, and I’d love some feedback on it~

You could barely breathe. The feeling of his cock stretching you out as you sat on his lap, combined with the heady feeling of the knife's tip pressed against your skin was driving you insane with arousal.

"Such a pretty one you are...we don't usually get customers like you."

You scrunched your eyes shut, not wanting to make eye contact with him. His smirk, his golden eyes that gleamed with confidence...it would all make you even more nervous than you already were.

"Sir...p-please don't hurt me."

"Tsk. I won't, princess. Not yet." He shifted you on his lap, causing his tip to rub up against your sweet spot. You let out a soft moan as he did so, your eyes slowly opening and drifting down to the shiny steel pressed against your torso.

"Will it...will it hurt?"

He gently dragged the knife upwards, eyes fixed on you. He wasn't applying any pressure, and the blade itself wasn't very sharp...but it still sent tingles through you.

"Not really. If you're a good girl for us, it won't. The ritual is a very short one, and doesn't have many side effects."

"Okay...wait, us?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. My boss. He'll be here soon, don't worry. He's a busy man. I take care of the shop when he's not here."

"Oh...so you're like, his assistant?"

"Mmhm. You could say that. He doesn't pay me, though." He mutters, expression faltering for a second. The smirk slowly returned though, as he dragged the steel gently up between your breasts, pausing.

"Why...w-why do you work here, then?"

"He's family. My older brother,to be exact."

"O-oh..."

"Yup. In fact, enjoy my leniency while you can. I can assure you, my brother is a lot more..."

He sighed, poking the tip into your skin lightly, but not enough to draw blood.

"Sadistic."

You gulped as Felix suddenly started thrusting up into you, his hips gaining a newfound vigor. You groaned, throwing your head back as he hit your sweet spot again.

You never thought you'd end up like this...A few weeks ago, you were living your life like any other college student.

When winter break came along, you'd been more than excited to get back to your hometown...the place you'd grew up in. One of the first things you did was visit the woods, searching for the tree house you'd made when you were about 10 years old.

Of course, you hadn't expected to see a cottage where your tree house had formerly been. On hindsight, it probably wasn't a good idea to knock.

You hadn't expected to see a cute boy open the door, either.

Felix, he said his name was.

The cottage wasn't a house after all...it was more of an eccentric little shop, the shelves lined with curious looking bottles and dusty books.

You'd definitely thought the man was cuckoo, especially when he started talking about witchcraft and rituals. He was undeniably hot, though...

One thing led to another and here you were a few days later, having sex with someone you barely knew. That someone also happened to talk an awful lot about demons and witchcraft. God, you were stupid to trust him.

"This ritual...what does it require, again? And there's absolutely no side effects?"

"Nope. All you want is revenge, correct? We can make that happen."

"Having sex with you is part of it, right?"

Felix laughed, taking his knife away and resting it on the table next to him. "Oh, you truly do hurt me. Here I was thinking you were having sex with me cause you wanted to." He adjusted himself in his chair, lifting you off his cock and turning you around.

He slowly eased you back down onto his length, groaning softly under his breath at your tightness.

"Look here. Intercourse with a virgin is stage one of the ritual, and semen also happens to be one of the ingredients." He said, pulling your back against his chest and lifting a finger, causing a dusty old book in the corner of the room to hover over.

You squinted at the page, the words registering itself in your brain.

"Wait...how did you know I'm a virgin?"

"It's glaringly obvious, doll."

You gritted your teeth, biting your lip as Felix let the book drop to the floor, his hands on your waist as he slowly started fucking up into you.

"Remember, you asked for this. You're the one who came here first. You gave me full consent to do this."

"I d-did."

"Mmhmm. Don't forget to tell Minho that. If he's not a corpse somewhere, that is...he usually isn't this late."

A shiver ran through you as Felix suddenly got up with you still on his cock, his fingers digging into your skin as he took you over to the window. He slid apart the heavy purple curtains with one hand.

"Ah...there he is."

You twisted your neck slightly. Eyes misty with arousal, you could barely make out the shadowy figure approaching. Felix's fingers on your chin forced you to face him again, his smile slightly unsettling.

"He's here. I'll remind you again. This was your choice."

"M-my choice..." You gulped as the door opened, the bells tinkling.

There was silence for a few minutes. Felix's form was blocking the figure in the shop. You made a sound of frustration as you craned your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of this mysterious man, despite the fear enveloping your heart.

"Hm. What do we have here? Felix, I've told you before. Don't bring your playthings into the shop."

Felix turned around, taking you to the counter and setting you on the edge of it, still inside you. The new angle finally let you make eye contact with the man.

Oh, fuck. Almost immediately, you wished you hadn't looked at him. Yes, Felix was scary and slightly unnerving...but this man's aura was a whole new shade of intimidating.

You tried your best to break eye contact, but you couldn't. His stare was mesmerizing, and you almost drooled.

A sharp thrust from Felix snapped you out of your haze.

"She isn't a plaything. She's been coming here for the past week...keeping me company. It gets lonely here when you leave on your little trips, you know."

Minho frowned as he set down the mysterious looking packages he'd been holding, leaning on the heavy oak table. His eyes fell on the open book. He lazily regarded the pages, sighing.

Despite his indifferent expression, when he spoke, his tone was menacing.

"Have you been showing this girl the texts? Felix, you know we're not supposed to fraternize with the mortals. I've let you copulate with some of them, but I've told you time and time again...magic and elements of the otherwordly realm are far too complex for their puny brains to comprehend."

Felix sighed, turning slightly to face his brother but not slowing down. He kept thrusting into you, a hand grasping your breast and fingers gliding over your nipple as he spoke.

"That's just it! This human here is different from the others. For one, once she got over her initial shock and surprise, she even started reading the rituals herself and helping me out around the shop! In fact, that's what we're doing right now, enacting the Interfectorem Inimicus Ritual. She has a silly little rival she wants to get rid of."

Minho sighed, his eyes coming up to meet yours again. You looked away meekly, making a small smirk appear on his features.

Cute.

He rarely found mortals attractive...but this one right here might have to be an exception. Besides, if what Felix said was true, she was special. Maybe she wasn't even a mortal after all...

Minho needed to know if that was true. And there was only one way to find out.

He stalked over calmly, tapping Felix's shoulder.

"Give her to me."

"What?!" Felix's look of confusion mirrored yours.

"You heard me." His gaze drifted slowly to you, a finger sneaking out to trace your jawline. You unknowingly leaned into his touch, shivering at the feeling of his cold fingers.

"Hmm now, kitten...why exactly were you snooping about in the sacred texts?" His gaze was stern as he locked your eyes with his.

"I wasn't s-snooping-"

"Did Lixie here give you permission?"

"I, well...no..." You hated the way his intense stare was making you blurt out the truth, cheeks flushed. "I was just curious, that's all. So I read one of the b-books when he wasn't looking."

"Curious." Minho let go of your chin, chuckling. "Haven't you heard? Curiosity killed the cat." His eyes turned darker. "Although when it comes to this kitty, it might just be something else that leads to her demise..."

You swallowed, a fresh wave of arousal shooting through you as Minho smiled, saccharine sweet.

He glared at Felix, making him let go of you reluctantly.

"I'm going to fuck you now, kitten. Would you like that?"

You looked up at him. There was just something about him...his intensity, his demeanor...combined with his sharp beauty...he had you whiny and needy, keening in just seconds.

"Yes, Master, want you...want you so bad!" You mewled, just as Felix pulled out of you.

"Good girl."

In seconds, he gathered you in his arms, taking you over to the burgundy sofa in the corner of the room. "Now, let's do this ritual the right way, shall we? Felix, light some candles."

"Listen, brother, I really don't think this is a good idea and-"

"Do as I say."

Felix sighed, nodding as he went to gather some candles from the shelf. As he lit each one, his heart shuddered.

The two of them knew something you didn't.

Felix and Minho shared a demonic father, but had different mothers. Felix's mother happened to be human, while Minho's definitely wasn't. It was why Felix was able to have intercourse with humans without rendering them completely insane.

Minho, on the other hand...didn't possess even an ounce of humanity. He was draconian, otherworldly...

Felix glanced back, sadness taking over his features as he watched you, entranced as you stared at him.

He was worried you wouldn't last the night.

Minho leaned down, inhaling. He loved the way the human interacted to his touches, however featherlight they may be. He ran the tip of his fingers over your chin, down between your breasts. His fingers continued their descent until they reached your navel, his lust growing as he dipped his finger in, prompting a soft whimper from you. He fingered your navel gently for a few seconds, before he went even lower...finally reaching your clit.

If you were indeed human, you wouldn't be able to handle him or his cock. If you weren't, though?

The implications of it drove Minho giddy with excitement. He'd never had the pleasure of playing with someone as responsive and adorable as you were. Maybe you could even be his queen when he ascends his father's throne...

He shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts. First, he had to make sure of your origins. Then, he'd let himself daydream.

His fingers slowly pushed into your already dripping pussy, an appreciative groan leaving his lips as your soaking walls hugged his digits tightly.

Felix finished with the candles, his own erection growing impossibly harder as the lewd noises your pussy was making filled the room.

He turned, making his way to the sofa and glaring at his brother. He already harbored quite a bit of resentment for the older man, and this only served to deepen his hatred. Why did he have to steal away everything that was his?

Minho pulled his fingers out with a pop, sucking on his digits as he looked over at Felix. Your eyes opened halfway, registering Minho's naked form with some surprise. When did he remove his clothes? Then again, you knew the two men in the room didn't obey the same worldly rules you did.

Minho's eyes drifted down to Felix's erection, tutting under his breath.

"You know what...you can use her mouth, if you like."

Felix grumbled. It was better than nothing, but then again...He didn't want his brother to fuck you at all. Till now, you'd proven to be different from the usual human...most mortals couldn't even see their shop. However, he still felt that slight unease that came with not wanting to see you hurt. He'd only known you for a week but...deep inside, he didn't want to lose you.

Felix led his cock to your lips, eyes searching your lidded ones for discomfort. When he found none, he slid his length past your throat slowly, making you moan.

Minho's thick tip was rubbing at your folds. You could only feel the sensation of his head dragging up and down your slit...but it was more than enough for you to realize that he was bigger than everyone you'd ever had sex with.

When he finally pushed into you, you saw stars in your eyes. The pleasure was overwhelming...so sudden and potent that you screamed, Felix's eyes widening in concern as he pulled out.

"Are you okay?

"Y-yeah! For fuck's sake, it feels so gooooooood-" You choked out, clenching tightly around Minho's huge cock, his thrusts unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. It was almost satanic, the way he plunged into you repeatedly, stretching you out to your absolute limit.

Minho gritted his teeth as he gripped your waist tightly, his head thrown back in pleasure. "Fuck...ironic, but your pussy is heavenly, kitten..."

He moved you up and down his shaft, the feeling of your soft pussy opening up more and more with each stroke driving him crazed with lust. He'd never felt anything like this before.

"Felix, she's so fucking- shit....she's so fucking perfect-"

Felix frowned, sitting back as he watched. He couldn't help the envy from gripping his heart as he watched your pleasure-stricken face, your eyes rolling back in your head as Minho slid his girth deeper, hitting your sweet spot. He didn't want to stay any longer, but he couldn't help it. He really didn't want to leave you alone with his brother.

Minho drove into you faster as he felt his orgasm approaching, spurred on by the way you clenched tightly around him, clearly near your end as well.

"Kitten? 'M going to cum...going to fill your little pussy up..."

You whined, arching your back. "Can I cum, Master?"

He shook his head, growling as he rubbed your clit. "You'll cum when I tell you to."

Minho turned to the side as he kept abusing your pussy, his eyes landing on Felix...chuckling at his hand wrapped around his cock.

"Couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Felix let out a moan as he continued jerking himself off, standing up. He didn't care anymore...you looked so perfect like this, completely naked and at their mercy, mouth wide open and ready for him to use.

He came closer and shoved his cock down your throat roughly, not giving you time to adjust as he started fucking into you, his high close. You choked, caught off guard, but quickly got over it. Determined to be a good girl for them, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked on Felix's cock desperately, even as you tried to stave off your orgasm.

His length twitched in your mouth, and before you knew it, you felt warm cum spurting down your throat. Felix groaned, pulling out slowly.

"Felix, now. Get my blade and the book."

"Wait, what?"

"She's the one. I can tell. Quick. We need to get her blood at the exact time she hits her high, or I won't be able to complete my ritual."

"Wait- no! This is Y/n's ritual, the one for her rival. It's lower magic. The one you want to do...Come on, brother! You have to think before making a decision like this, you can't just make her your bride...we have to get Y/n's permission, too-"

Minho growled, his eyes flashing red as he glared at Felix. "I'm not performing a wedding ritual or anything, brother. I'm simply preserving her essence-"

Felix shook his head. His heart was thudding- he'd figured it out too, just like his brother had. You weren't mortal. You were special...and that meant Minho wanted to find out what exactly you were.

He felt sick as he thought of you getting married to his brother. No. You belonged here on Earth, with your family and your friends-

With him.

Before he could react, Minho's hand had materialized the exact knife he wanted.

Encrusted with rubies and made of demonic steel, the blade was far sharper than the one Felix had been teasing you with before.

Minho let go of your waist to grab your hand, bringing it up to his face. His hips continued their assault, making you whine and whimper.

Half the things they said were making no sense, and you were scared and yet...aroused, at the same time. You didn't know what was going on, but you wanted to listen to the man above you. You wanted to do everything he said, wanted to be his little pet...wanted to be his. Your brain felt like it was slowly getting rid of all rationality, the feeling of his cock making you whine louder.

"Kitten...I'm going to make a tiny little cut, right here on your finger. Is that okay?"

You nodded desperately, and Minho smiled at you in approval.

"Cum."

You finally let go, the pleasure washing over you in a tidal wave as you shook, convulsing with electricity as Minho drove the blade into the tip of your finger just enough to let out a few drops of blood.

Felix reluctantly conjured up an empty potion vial, capturing the drop with ease.

Minho lifted your finger to his mouth, sucking on the digit and running his tongue over the wound repeatedly. The metallic taste of your blood was the final push he needed to cum, thrusting deeper as he spilled himself into you.

When he let go of your finger, all the pain had disappeared. You noticed your finger was healed...the skin just as clean and soft as it was before.

You whined as he pulled out, conjuring another vial to gather some of your mixed fluids that was leaking out from between your thighs. He yawned as he handed it to Felix, who corked it with a frown on his face, setting it next to the vial with your blood in it. He knew what Minho wanted to do...he wanted to perform a ritual with the vials, wanted to make sure you were the one for him. It wasn't a wedding ritual by any means...but it was a pre-requisite, and the thought saddened Felix. Maybe his feelings for you were deeper than he'd thought.

Slowly, Minho gathered you into his arms, patting your hair gently and kissing your forehead.

"You were a good kitten, Y/n. How are you feeling?"

"I'm f-feeling okay..."

Minho made a face of delight at Felix. "She can still talk and formulate sentences!" He mouthed, prompting a half-hearted smile from his brother.

"D'you want to cuddle?"

You pouted. "Mmhmm! But..I want Lix to come cuddle too."

Felix looked up at that, his eyes widening.

You still wanted him?

Minho met his eyes, giving him a small smile. "Sure, baby. Lix can come cuddle as well."

You grinned, looking over at Felix and making grabby hands. Giggling, the boy quickly dropped onto the couch, wrapping his arms around your torso and humming in content.

"You know..I don't mind sharing her." Minho whispered, his fingers still stroking your hair. "Really?" Felix asked, looking down at you.

"If she wants to be shared, that is."

"I don't mind!" You chirped. "Life is boring here, anyway. Where did you guys say you lived again?"

The two men shared a look.

Minho sighed as he stroked your hair. "I can't wait to introduce you to our dad."

"Your dad?"

"Yep! Don't worry, he's nice. And I think he'd like you."

You frowned slowly as you remembered something Felix had told you. Snippets of their conversation flashed through your brain as your stomach filled with something akin to dread and anticipation.

"Who did you say your dad was, again?"

"Oh, what? Ah, that doesn't really matter. He's just the king of the Underworld."

#skzsmutnet #felix smut #minho smut #lee know smut #yongbok smut #felix angst #felix fluff #minho fluff #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

739 notes · View notes

starcloud-nova · 3 years

Note

Favorite fics by some of your buddies on Tumblr and Discord?

God nonnie. You fucked up big time. You underestimated just how hard I can appreciate my friends. I’d like to formally apologize for how long and in-depth this got, but I would pick a stopping point and then go ‘oh! but i cant leave out so-and-so’ and then this got mega out of hand.

Organized by author and not genre! And if I didn’t include any of your works (or I did and it was not the one you wanted), please, don’t take it personally. I am trusting everyone who comes across this post to read the tags themselves, but for two of the fics I have left TWs in front of them.

Cassia’s fics:

Internet Enemies by @cassiopeia721 (x)

At school, Midoriya Izuku is ignored at best. At home, he's raised by a single mother who seems to be always taking night shifts, and who he communicates with almost exclusively through notes on lunch boxes and texts lying about his location. As such, Midoriya Izuku turns to the internet— or more specifically, an All Might fan server on discord— for companionship. Like most things in his life, it goes wrong eventually. It just takes longer than usual.

hypnic jump

Izuku finds himself somewhere he doesn't recognize in an oversized green jumpsuit with a hero he's never seen at his back. He's pretty sure he's dreaming, and subsequent events only solidify that theory into rock-solid certainty.

Paradigm Shift (Harry Potter)

Harry undergoes a paradigm shift at the beginning of his fifth year. (Slytherin Harry)

~~~

Kestrel’s fics:

Compass by @autisticmidoriyas (x)

Midoriya Izuku never had the chance to become a hero—or even to grow up. Fifteen years after his death, Akatani Izuku tries to save the life of a dying hero and in return receives a target painted on his back and a power humming in his bones.

All Might, Sir Nighteye, Ground Zero, Suneater, and Skyquake are left scrambling in the wake of Lemillion’s death to figure out who now holds One For All.

Intertwined with all this, the League of Villains’ war against Japan burns on. With the loss of Lemillion, the advantage is now theirs, and with the loss of One For All, victory is all-but-assured.

(What the villains don’t know is that One For All lives on in the blood of a boy who was always meant to be a hero.)

triskelion

A few seconds, and their lives—their life—is changed forever. Where three people used to exist, there is now only one.

While visiting the mall with their class, Izuku, Katsuki, and Shouto are the victims of someone whose quirk can fuse together objects … and people.

Permanently.

Facing down the fact that they may never be unfused, a long adjustment period lies ahead of them as they learn how to be themself and figure out where they fit into their families, their class, and their world.

the meaning of hope

One day, the smoke will reach its end. They hold out hope for that. Even with quirks, fires cannot burn forever. They will consume all their fuel, until there is nothing left, and they will wither and die.

~~~

Lilly’s fics:

Rise of the Rat Finks by Authoress_Lilly

“You're not in trouble Neito. You’ve been tapped to join The Rats.”

The boy blinks. “The what?”

Vlad opens up a folder and hands Monoma a flyer and a small pin in the shape of a rat. “It’s a sort of secret society here at UA.

Or: an excuse to put Monoma and Midoriya together in way too many words 😅

The Root to Villainy

Prompt: Izuku doesn't realize how fucked up his past was until Aizawa does an immersive class on villain origins.

Whoops?

~~~

Dance’s fics:

Never Take Your Problem Children To Costco by DanceInTheKitchen

“SECURE THE EGGS! I REPEAT SECURE THE EGGS!” Bakugou bellowed.

“YES SIR! AYE AYE SIR!” Izuku saluted.

Shouta is staring at his students, one of whom seems to be reenacting the Lion King with a carton of eggs while the other salutes him, and wonders. What the hell did he do in his past life to deserve this?? Past him must have committed some great sin, like putting sugar in his coffee, or being a dog person.

Or, Aizawa, Bakugou and Midoriya walk into a Costco.

grow as we go

The dorms were silent, but out here in the open air, she felt both isolated and free. Isolated from the world, but free from the responsibility crushing her, isolated from her friends and family, but free from judgement. Up here, with only the stars and Iida as company, Momo felt like she could breathe.

They sat next to each other in silence, watching the stars silently crawl their way across the sky. Iida doesn’t break the silence, but he also doesn’t leave. It’s a silent promise, to listen if she needs it, or to keep her company if she doesn’t want to speak. It’s comforting.

She’s not sure when she speaks, it’s somewhere between staring up at the stars, and looking at the shiny dew covering the grass of the hills behind UA.

“I’m not ready.”

Or, with graduation right around the corner, Momo has a conversation with Iida about what growing up means.

~~~

Azure’s fics:

A Helping Hand for All by azureskyy

Izuku doesn't know why everyone's talking about a certain hero analyst online. He's tried browsing through the forums and other sites, but he just can't find the person they're talking about.

Maybe he'll ask them later. For now, he has some analysis to do.

Or: Izuku is a well-known hero and quirk analyst across multiple social media platforms.

Not that he's aware of it, of course.

A Missed Chance

Two paths cross then diverge. In another universe, perhaps, they could have walked on the same path; they could have talked for the second time that day, and Izuku could have been given an opportunity that could change his entire life. And maybe, just maybe, he would have taken it.

But this isn’t that universe.

Or: What if All Might wasn't able to find Izuku after the Sludge Villain Incident?

~~~

Alice’s fics:

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by @makeitbluue (x)

“Did you think you’d be safe from me forever? That you could chip away at my power base and I would not care or try to hunt you down?” The man asks as he steps forwards.

Izuku scrambles backwards in his bed, searching the covers as he goes for his phone. If he can get a text off to All Might or Aizawa-sensei he can alert people to the potential danger.

But even as he moves, something in the back of his mind tells him he had heard this voice before. A different time, a different context, but the same voice.

~~~

Ely’s fics:

bend and break by @queenangst (x)

In a world where you can feel your soulmate's pain, Eijirou spends a lot of his life up until meeting his soulmate hurting.

draw and quarter

In District Twelve, no one volunteers.

When Aizawa Shouta’s name is called, no one says a word. He stands there for a moment, feeling all the world slow around him, and then he straightens his shoulders and walks to his death.

He will die fighting. At the very least, Shouta can promise that.

Shouta's name is drawn for the Hunger Games, alongside Shirakumo Oboro. No one from their district has ever won.

damage control

After All for One's defeat, Aizawa Shouta is grasping for ways to protect his students. At the same time, a discrepancy in Midoriya's behavior leads Shouta down a dangerous line of investigation and to a single question: if Midoriya is the U.A. traitor.

Between the Wind and the Water

Staying at U.A. for winter break, Izuku hopes it'll be a quiet chance to spend the holidays with Todoroki and supervising teachers All Might and Aizawa-sensei.

It's just his luck a gift-shopping trip turns into a gift from a villain, and Izuku's new Half-Cold, Half-Hot Quirk is not so easy to control. Neither are the secrets he's been carefully keeping.

a glimpse of tomorrow (looking back)

Subject: Aldera Time Capsule Ceremony Forwarded Message— This year marks ten years for the Aldera Middle School graduating class of 20XX.To celebrate, we would like to invite pro heroes Kingpin and Deku, Aldera alumni, to participate in a public time-capsule opening. We are incredibly proud to have helped them on their journeys to becoming heroes, and would be most honored to receive them as guests and for them to speak at the ceremony. [...]

"Well," Deku says, leaning over to turn the monitor towards him. His eyes flick over the contents of the email one more time. "If they haven't changed, then I guess we could return the favor."

Ten years down the line, Bakugou and Midoriya are invited to a time capsule ceremony at their middle school to read letters from their past selves, and look back on their past and how it shaped their future. For anyone else, it would have been a celebration.

For the two of them, it's an opportunity.

A look into Bakugou and Midoriya's past—through a future neither of them imagined—as pro heroes, agency partners, and friends.

of the mighty heart

It was just complicated. Kacchan had changed. Izuku had changed. What was between them was constant—Kacchan was always there—but even constants, Izuku supposed, could change, too.

...You saved me, sometimes you say Deku and it doesn’t sound so much like an insult, you say it like you mean it, you say it like you mean me.

After the war ends and the dust settles, Izuku is left in pain and feeling useless. There's still so much to do and people to save, and it's just... too much for one person.

And then there's Kacchan.

~~~

Fawn’s fics:

Bough Breaks by @fawnvelveteen (x) (trigger warning for discussion of rape/noncon)

In life, nothing is certain. Pro-heroes aren’t always the good guys. Children are not spared from the darkest realms of humanity. Izuku isn't acting like his normal self at school lately, and his homeroom teacher has taken notice. After learning about the mother’s new, unwelcomed boyfriend, Aizawa’s concern shifts into dread. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep his student away from harm.

Almost Moon (trigger warning for suicide) (Black Clover)

It was always at night. One of Noelle's squadmates, apparently, believes it's a good idea to walk across the rooftop, directly over her head while she is trying to get some sleep. Finally, she decides to confront the nighttime nuisance. What she discovers is something she never expected, nor did she wish to see.

~~~

Nez’s fics:

The True Successor by @neko-nez (x)

Toshinori is caught in a time loop.

~~~

Aodh’s fics:

new game + (the pros of being over-leveled, the catharsis of finally beating That One Boss, and a bonus social link) by @takeyamayuu (x)

Izuku hasn’t been noticed yet, being as far from the fight as he is. Or if he has, they’re dismissing him in favor of the larger threat of Aizawa-sensei. As they should, since he takes out the last one with a well placed kick, turning to face Shigaraki,

Izuku tenses, this is-

This is where his teacher’s arm is injured and then-

The Nomu.

One for All spikes to around fifty percent, his muscles stinging, bones creaking as Izuku darts forward, aiming for Shigaraki’s head with an axe-kick.

Second year Midoriya Izuku gets hit with a Quirk, skids into the USJ, and learns a little about self-care along the way.

~~~

Ghost’s fics:

fingerpaint bruises and a kick in the teeth by @ghoststrawberries (x)

There’s a sour taste in Shouta’s mouth as he stares at Jackrabbit’s bright smile. The smile he’s wearing in every clear photo of him. It somewhat reminds Shouta of All Might’s smile.

Jackrabbit might be a menace to the Commission, but there’s no way Shouta can believe that a man with that smile is anything less than good to his core.

“And I’m your last resort to handle this quietly.” He says knowingly, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“Precisely.”

Shouta’s gut response is to refuse.

The words “I don’t kill.” are halfway up his throat before they become stuck.

As an underground hero, sometimes Shouta Aizawa is called upon to do darker jobs than one might expect a hero to have to do. This time, when he's tasked with taking out a vigilante who's managed to bother the Hero Public Safety Commission one too many times, he's not sure he'll be able to follow through.

~~~

Amira’s fics:

And Now I See Daylight by @awake-my-oceans (x)

AnalysisOverload Current mood: HERO CON HERO CON HERO CON HERO CON

AnalysisOverload reblogged AnalysisOverload Okay, let’s talk HeroCon.

Look around, and you’ll see a lot of discrimination—against people whose Quirk is debilitating, against people whose Quirks scare us, against people who have trouble controlling their Quirk, against people who don’t have a Quirk at all. It’s easy to feel alone in a sea of discrimination.

Enter HeroCon:X.

A social media fic following Deku post-graduation.

The chaotic neutral’s guide to time travel

“You claim you are from the future,” Nedzu said, hopping onto his desk. “Do you have anything to prove this?”

Hitoshi fished around in his pocket. “Here’s my hero license,” he said, holding it up.

Nedzu opened his mouth, but Hitoshi kept right on going, producing a handful of odds and ends from his pocket. “Also a movie ticket, some dryer lint, some, uh, didn’t know I still had that but it’s old gum—“

That was when Aizawa walked in, capture weapon floating around him. “What’s the emergency?” he asked, clipped, as he kicked open the door.

“—and the left arm of a Deku plushie,” Hitoshi finished, unruffled. “My cat ate the rest.”

~~~

Aaaaaand that’s all I got. Thanks for making it to the end!

#bnha #bnha fic #fic rec #fic rec list #fic rec masterpost #nova talks #all my friends in one post. sniffle #most of em anyway #not sure what to tag this so. ill hit send!#forgot too tag this as an ask rip #anonymous #ask

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julemmaes · 4 years

Note

Oksy so don’t feel like you have to do this but nesta and the kids go out grocery shopping and they bump into THOMAS FUCKING MANDARY and Nesta gets super overwhelmed but she’s got the kids and shit so she pretends she’s fine

But later cass comes home and the kids tell him what happens.

(and maybe they have a talk on important stuff about being with someone who loves you and if someone hurts you they don’t love you and it’s beautiful Idk)

Loving And Caring

Nessian modern au set in the The Seven Of Us universe (masterlist)

acotar next gen fan fiction

A/N: This is the reason I’m gonna fail my English exam, so please enjoy:)

The children’s ages: Ezra is 11, Cal is 6, Nora is 3 and Celia is 2. Andra is kinda not born yet.

DON’T COME FOR ME FOR BEING SLOW AS FUCK OR FOR WRITING SUCH ANGSTY PROMPTS. I HAVE 70+ IN MY ASKS BOX AND THEY’RE ALL SO ANSGTY

Word count: 8,185

"I want it!"

"I don't-"

"No, I want this!"

"I said I wanted it first."

"You did not!"

"Mom!"

Nesta Archeron had been called many things in her life. Daughter first. Then sister and friend, woman. She had been appreciated by all the professors she had had the honor of meeting during her studies, who had called her the best in her classes. She had finally found someone who had sincerely called her love and then wife, and she would not give up that last acquired, very important title of mom for anything in the world, but-

Right then she just wanted to strap her kids to the cart and run.

Walking down the cereal aisle, she ran a hand over her swollen, ready-to-burst belly, realizing that she would have to trip and fall on her bump if she wanted to end the problem for good. The baby girl, for whom they still hadn't chosen a name, would be born in a few weeks, and if she didn't get rid of her, too, she would never find peace.

She giggled - or at least she thought she did - at those morbid, disturbing thoughts for which many people would surely have her locked up in a mental hospital, if they found out how often she admitted to wanting to abandon her children.

It had been such a tiring day. She had been home from work for a couple of months now, this fifth pregnancy was breaking her down physically and mentally. She was at the end, in her eighth month, but she would much rather have the last baby out and inside the cart with her sisters by now.

Celia and Nora were babbling something in their imperfect language, and Nesta's heart clenched for her little men at the thought that they would be outnumbered in a few weeks. She and Cassian had experienced that feeling only three years before, and yet she still hadn't forgotten the terror she had felt at the idea of her children turning against them.

They had created a small army.

Casting a quick glance at Ezra who was sneaking something into the cart, she huffed. If the others noticed that he had put a package of junk food in the basket, that would be the end of it.

Moments later, in fact, Cal was looking at the colored bag in the still empty cart with suspicious eyes, and Nesta wasn't going to wait for the fight over who could buy the most junk food that day to begin.

"Ezra, put the snacks back," she said rubbing her hands over her eyes.

Celia mumbled something as she sat inside the cart, and Nora, silently settled next to her, nodded, as if she understood what the other was talking about. It shouldn't have shocked her, but Nesta never ceased to be amazed by that way of communicating that only the two of them understood.

Ezra's icy eyes turned sad when he looked at her and he pouted, "But mom I need them for snacks for school."

Cal looked at him with a furrowed brow, "No you don't. I need them." then he turned to Nesta, "But I don't like these, can I have those?" he asked with a bright smile pointing across the aisle with a wave of his arm.

She leaned forward, sighing and not answering him. Nora looked up at her and reached out her hands toward her mom, letting her know she wanted to be held, but Nesta was aching.

Cal and Ezra hadn't stopped bickering for half a second, and Celia had cried all day because she wanted her dada. Nora had stayed in Nesta's arms the entire walk to the grocery store, and one way or another she knew she would have to carry her all the way back home as well, despite the unbearable back pain. It was less than two kilometers, but with a pregnancy running out and only one hand to restrain any possible child who threatened to throw themselves under the cars whizzing by, it became more mental work than physical.

When Nesta smiled lovingly at her, trying to make her understand that she couldn't hold her right then, Cal burst into tears.

Her daughters' little heads snapped up at their brother, and Nesta cursed herself for deciding to do something as stupid as taking her four young children to the grocery store on an evening when they were all visibly on edge and stressed.

"Dear, what happened?" she asked without even an ounce of concern in her voice. She knew full well that it was just a tantrum. She got confirmation of that when Ezra replied in a whiny tone that they couldn't both buy snacks, or they wouldn't know how to carry them home. At that point Cal's cry became a proper scream and Nesta had to close her eyes to avoid the judgmental stares of the people passing by.

She brought her hands to her temples, massaging her forehead in circular motions, and when she thought she could handle it without throwing up on each of her children, she leaned against the cart, circling around Ezra and crouching with no small amount of difficulty in front of Cal. One hand on her back and the other still clinging to the cart, she grunted as she put one knee on the ground. She felt Nora's little hand rest on hers as she began to speak, "Listen kiddo, we're all very tired and now your brother is going to put his snacks down too," she explained, giving Ezra an inquisitive look over her shoulder. The eldest son rolled his eyes, but he had Celia hand him the package and snortingly put it back. Cal sobbed, sniffling, and Nesta laid a hand on his shoulder, massaging his arm. "How about we read a book together tonight before bed?"

The boy's face scrunched up in a grimace of sadness, "But I want snacks." he sobbed louder. Nesta bit her lip, knowing full well that the fat tears on his cheeks weren't really for the snacks and that she couldn't give in and let them all buy something or she'd end up with two bags full of junk food to carry.

Cal hadn't slept that afternoon, as had everyone else, because of Celia's endless crying, and she hadn't wanted to take her afternoon nap until it was too late and Nora and Cal had gotten out of bed to go play in their rooms. At that point Nesta had been forced to let Celia go, but she knew that had meant agreeing to spend an evening with frustrated and not-rested children.

She was about to respond when a couple of older ladies walked by them, casting an annoyed look at Cal. Nesta would have liked to respond with an ugly hand gesture, but she couldn't do it in front of her children.

In that moment of distraction she hadn't realized that Celia had also started calling her and now, casting a quick glance at her daughter, she felt a very bad feeling sink into her stomach at the sight of the little girl's tear-filled eyes.

She looked at Ezra, taking a deep breath, and noticed that even the oldest of her children seemed bothered by the course of action Nesta had taken. She felt tremendous guilt at seeing that the only one of her children who didn't seem disappointed or angry with her was Nora.

It all got worse when one of the two ladies who had just passed her said loud enough so she could hear her, "I don't understand why some people don't stop with their first child. It's obvious she can't even handle one, listen to her screaming."

Nesta felt the emotion grow in her throat.

"When someone isn't born to be a parent, it shows immediately. She's one of those awful mothers who doesn't know how to take care of her children." the other added.

Nesta caught her breath, fixing her gaze in Cal's. Celia was crying by now, spluttering to be picked up as she tried to keep her balance inside the cart.

She wasn't going to answer. She wasn't going to answer.

"Let's go home." she whispered suddenly, laying a hand on the small of her back and pulling herself up with a tremendous effort, a twinge of pain went through her legs and back, "Cal, dear, we'll buy the snacks another time, for now we'll just take the bread and milk, tomorrow come back with daddy and take whatever you want, okay?" she spoke quickly, in a high, steady voice so that all four of them could hear her. She just hoped they didn't hear how desperately she was trying not to burst into tears over what the ladies had just said.

Cal nodded, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and immediately stopping crying. Ezra looked thoughtful, but he too had stopped pouting. The only one who still looked upset was Celia, who followed her by walking inside the cart, moving where she stood.

Seeing the little girl's red face and dripping nose, arms outstretched toward her, Nesta heard only the words "awful mother" repeated in her mind.

With a knot in her throat and a cry that she was sure would break free as soon as she stepped into the house, Nesta pushed forward, bumping the cart with her belly as she picked up Celia and placed her on her side. The little girl immediately stopped crying, resting her head on her mother's shoulder and cupping her tiny hand over her shirt.

Now, beyond the emotional wound that had just been inflicted on her, Nesta could feel the pain in her back growing with every step she took. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop a sob that threatened to break that composed attitude she had.

Everything hurt so bad.

Cal was running in front of them all, stomping his feet on the ground and making the little lights on his shoes glow. Ezra was walking beside her, one hand on the edge of the cart as he mouthed off to Nora, but he had to stop when Nesta froze in the middle of the aisle, taking an abrupt breath. She brought a hand to her belly, feeling the baby move and kick, only adding to the pain.

"Ezra, love," she breathed, stepping aside and holding Celia against her side, then asked between her teeth as the baby continued her assault inside her, "could you push the cart?"

He nodded, his face lighting up as if she had asked him to take control of a ship.

Celia began to squirm on her side and Nesta had the urge to drop her, not voluntarily, but it all hurt so much that her body was begging her to sit up, to take all that unnecessary weight off her arms.

At the idea that she would have to walk home she felt her eyes grow heavy with tears.

She put Celia back in the cart, breathing a sigh of relief as some of the pain eased in her lower back. Nora was now standing and smiling at Ezra, who was struggling to see where he was going past his sister.

Nesta looked up just as Cal hopped out of the aisle and fell to the ground, crashing into someone's cart. Or rather, as someone ran over him with their cart and slamming him to the ground.

She didn't even think about it as she started walking as fast as her body would allow towards her son, leaving the other three behind. By the time she reached him, Cal was standing there laughing in amusement and was running his hands over his pants to get the dust off his palms. Once she made sure he wasn't hurt, she was ready to yell at whoever had dropped her son, ready to take out all her frustration and doubts on the stranger, when she heard a voice that sent chills down her spine.

"Nesta Archeron?"

She moved her head so fast she was surprised she hadn't snapped her neck, but her brain didn't have time to process the pain the jolt had caused her, because there standing before her was Tomas Mandray.

She couldn't believe it.

Any thought of yelling at the stranger vanished like an echo in her mind.

How was it possible that he was there?

"Is it really you?" he asked her with wide eyes and an incredulous smile on his face. He circled the cart, shifting his gaze to Cal, and Nesta felt the overwhelming instinct to grab her son and hide him behind her. When Tomas reached out a hand toward him, ruffling his hair, she felt vomit rise in her throat. They had to get out of that place immediately. "I can't believe it." he voiced her thoughts, "Is this yours?" he asked looking into her eyes again.

This... he was talking about Cal.

She couldn't find the words and continued to stare at the man in front of her with wide eyes - scared eyes, if you knew Nesta, if you knew where to look. And Tomas knew it. Tomas had always known it.

She heard Ezra reach them, and then something slammed into her side. She didn't need to lower her head to catch a glimpse of Nora's little pigtails of black hair or hear Celia's amused giggle.

Tomas snorted a laugh out of his nose, crossing his arms over his chest, "Are they all yours?" then moved his gaze to her belly to bring it back up to her breasts and Nesta wanted to say something to him, to insult him, to hit him, to take him away from her children, but she felt her heart pounding in her throat and the air couldn't reach her lungs.

That tone-

That tone wasn't of someone who was happy to hear that you'd made a new life for yourself after they'd managed to destroy you completely. It wasn't the tone of an old friend who you hadn't seen in years and who you're about to agree to hang out with and tell them about everything that happened in your lives.

No, it was the tone he had used every day, every hour, when he needed to belittle her, when he needed to make her feel insignificant, worthless.

"Mom?"

Nesta turned her head so slowly toward her son, blinking, that she must have seemed like another person entirely. No longer the proud, strong woman she'd shown everyone for years on that side. Ezra had one eyebrow arched, as if wondering what was going on, and was clasping hands with a jumping Celia.

She didn't have the energy to turn around, to look at the man who had pushed her to the bottom of the barrel and destroyed her, but she managed to throw out a weak, "Kids we have to go, we're not taking anything." then turning to Cal, she took his arm, pulling him towards his siblings, "Let's go."

She felt Tomas' eyes creeping over her like slimy hands. She could still remember the last time he'd touched her, when she'd gone over the edge, offering herself to him to avoid yet another fight or worse.

For that, when his true hand tightened around her wrist, pulling her slightly to let her stay there, she flinched.

"Nesta."

She spun around, bringing her free hand to her belly for protection. When the little girl inside her kicked again, making her groan through her teeth in pain, Tomas smiled in a way that made Nesta hope she was anywhere but there.

"Is she kicking?"

And then it all happened quickly. She couldn't move, couldn't pull away, as the grip on her wrist tightened and Tomas pulled her closer to him and placed his other hand on her stomach, next to hers. A soundless sob escaped her control and her breath labored as she felt his fingers move over her shirt.

She was going to throw up.

She gave a tug so hard that the twinge of pain started at her wrist and reached her elbow, but she was free. She smacked the hand on her, taking several steps back and bringing Cal with her. She had started pushing the front of the cart, trying to position it in the direction they had come from.

She met Ezra's gaze for a moment, before her son's eyes slipped behind her, on Tomas' figure.

"Ezra." she called to him in a firm voice. Four pairs of eyes snapped in his direction. That was the tone of a tired mother issuing orders to her children at the end of the day, "Eyes on me."

She didn't want anything of Tomas's to come into contact with her children. She didn't want him to contaminate them the way he had contaminated her.

She lifted Cal off the ground and the child quietly let her pick him up without too much of a fuss. She didn't feel the strain at all as she pulled him high enough to put him in the cart with the girls. Looking at her oldest, she hoped she could secure him like she was doing with the other three, but he was too big to fit in the cart himself.

Before she could tell him to follow her without saying a word, Tomas spoke again.

"What a beautiful name, Ezra," she felt the venom bind each letter.

Ezra was about to turn around, probably to thank him, as she and Cassian had taught him, but Nesta squeezed his shoulder, "Keep looking ahead and walking, I don't want you talking to him."

"Always so fucking obnoxious," Tomas spat at that point.

Nesta froze in her tracks. She could feel him following them as he tortured her. Ezra froze beside her, tugging at her sleeve to get her attention.

Always so obnoxious. You're useless, worthless. I'm the only person who will ever be able to put up with your bullshit. You'll never find anyone else.

She felt the panic rise, the agitation for one of her children to realize how uncomfortable she was at that moment. She closed and opened her hands on the cart's handlebars, hoping to relieve some of that tension.

"I'm amazed to see you with so many children," he continued, creeping up beside her and stopping in front of her cart, blocking her way with his. She looked up at him, feeling the air scratch at her throat. He had aged, she could see it in the features around his eyes, his mouth - he had aged and yet still had the same look. "I didn't think you'd ever date again after I left you."

I left you. She wanted to tell him. I had the courage to leave.

She didn't answer him, straightening her back.

Tomas smirked, lowering his gaze to her daughters and his smile widened even more.

"Don't look at them," she snapped, still maintaining her composure.

The man looked up at her one more time, "They'll be just as pretty as their mother when they grow up." then looked at Cal and Ezra, sliding a finger over the edge of his cart. "Who's the father?"

"Dada." muttered Celia, flapping her little hands.

Nesta wanted to recoil at the sound. She didn't want Tomas to hear her talk, didn't want him to watch them. She didn't want them breathing his same air.

"It's none of your business and now move over," she whispered to him. All she could think about was the fact that she had to get her children out of there as soon as possible. Therefore, when he didn't move an inch, she added. "Please."

Tomas laughed. He laughed, leaning his head back and clutching his hand around the mesh of her cart. "Nessie Nessie," he clicked his tongue on his palate, a remnant of laughter in the tone of his voice that made the woman's gut tangle, "I haven't seen you in so long. I want to know everything."

"Please." she repeated, as her eyes filled with tears. His own widened slightly, surprised to see such a reaction in her. She didn't care if he saw her weak, she didn't care if she had to get down on her knees. He was keeping them trapped, and Nesta knew he wouldn't let them leave until he squeezed even the last drop of sanity out of her.

If Ezra still realized what was going on, she didn't know, and it scared her even more. Cal was looking at her and looked worried, probably having never seen her so shaken in her life.

She was about to beg him a third time. Beg him to free her from whatever that game was that they were stuck in at that moment, but someone said her name. Ezra looked behind them and Nesta saw the shadow of a smile on his face, prompting her to turn around in turn. A choked sound escaped her throat as she bit her upper lip to keep from bursting into tears, and a wave of gratitude washed over her.

"Miss Archeron," the man smiled at her. Drakon Cretea had been Nesta and Cassian's neighbor for years now. He and his wife Myriam had babysat their children so many times that they were their go-to people. In fact, Celia and Nora had snapped to their feet at the sound of the voice of the acquired grandfather they loved so much.

Nesta didn't waste a moment turning the cart so that it faced Drakon. The children, Ezra included, began to cheer happily at having met a familiar face, and Nesta allowed herself to look over her shoulder.

With such relief that she thought she might collapse to the ground, she saw that Tomas was already pulling away, and as he turned the corner, pulling into another aisle, she took a deep breath through her nose, closing her eyes.

She had made it.

***

Cassian was exhausted.

He had spent the entire day grading exams for first-year students with his aide, and it was as if he could see the letters behind his eyelids every time he blinked. It was much more feasible to work in the university library, where he didn't risk being interrupted by a child every five minutes, but he only tried to do it once or twice a month during exam sessions, knowing full well how exhausting it was for Nesta to keep up with all the children together until late in the evening, especially now that Andra was about to arrive.

"Andra." he murmured into the silence of his car. Nesta kept telling him that they weren't sure that would be the name of their fifth child, but Cassian didn't care. He just needed to name his wife's belly when talking to his daughter.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned off the car in the driveway and stepped out, stretching his arms up just enough to make his back crack.

Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he huffed. It was too late for his girls to still be awake, but maybe he'd be able to say goodnight to Cal and Ezra.

He had warned Nesta that he was going to be late, and she had simply replied that she would leave dinner ready in the kitchen for when he returned.

Opening the front door, he immediately saw two little dark heads popping up from above the couch. Cal was already running at him when he closed the door behind him and jumped on him as soon as he had put his stuff down, "Dad!"

"Kiddo!" said Cassian throwing him into the air.

Cal laughed waving his arms, "Sssh," he scolded him still laughing, "the girls are sleeping."

"Oops," dad made a guilty face, stopping their game and putting Cal down.

Ezra was too focused on watching TV and wasn't paying the slightest attention to Cassian, but he walked over to the couch anyway, lowering himself just enough so he could leave a kiss on his hair, "Hi love." he murmured to him.

The little boy's head snapped toward him and with a crooked smile on his face and his pajama collar in his mouth, he said, "Hi dad."

Cassian scoffed amused, ripping his pajamas from between his teeth, "How many times have I told you not to eat your clothes?"

"Sorry," Ezra said, not sounding sorry at all.

Cal had gone back to lying next to his brother and they both seemed too caught up in the cartoon to pay any attention to it, so he went into the kitchen, loosening the tie around his neck and praying that Nesta had cooked something good - though the opposite was quite unlikely considering the woman's innate cooking skills.

He moaned with delight when he realized it was the meatballs she always made when she didn't feel like cooking and, taking the plate, he headed back to the living room. He plopped down in between his sons, taking the pajamas out of Ezra's mouth again and offering them both a meatball.

"So, what have you guys been up to today?" asked Cassian with a full mouth, slipping off his shoes and placing his feet on the coffee table.

First Cal and then Ezra told him in full detail about what they had done at school and then about the fact that none of them had slept that afternoon. Cassian was surprised to find out that Cal could still stand up without getting any rest.

When they got to the point where Nesta had taken them out walking and they had made it all the way to the supermarket, he had stopped them.

"Guys come on," he looked at them with incredulous eyes, "I told you to keep her home."

It was true. Lately Nesta had been pushing her limits when the doctors had told her to exert herself and stress as little as possible. With childbirth imminent too, it was risky for her to walk around without any other adults.

Ezra had the decency to look guilty, "I know, but-"

"We also met a weird dude," Cal interrupted him.

Cassian looked at him taking on a confused expression, "Weird?"

"Yeah, he knew mom," Ezra nodded, looking at the TV and talking thoughtlessly. He was bowing his head slowly and Cassian unconsciously extended a hand towards him, shutting his mouth before he could start chewing on the fabric once again. He looked at him at that point, continuing the story, "Mom was all weird, though."

"Weird." repeated Cassian.

"Yeah, weird." repeated Cal in turn, then chuckled, "He even hit me with the cart."

He and Ezra laughed together, remembering how Cal had fallen on his bum, but Cassian's thoughts were elsewhere. Clearly the fact that someone had rolled his son with a cart must not have been traumatic or painful, or Nesta would have called him and Cal wouldn't have been there laughing, but the fact that they had described her with an adjective like "weird" had him on high alert.

"Do you happen to know the man's name?" asked Cassian, pulling himself up and setting his plate down on the coffee table, keeping his gaze on his hands.

Ezra shook his head, "No, also because mom didn't talk to him much and then Drakon showed up."

"Oh, yeah," Cal repeated excitedly, his eyes glowing, "then Drakon showed up."

Cassian was on his feet before his youngest son had finished speaking. He started up the stairs to go upstairs, where he hoped he would find Nesta awake, but warned the two little men that he would go change and be back down to them in a jiffy.

With a strained expression and a bad feeling working its way through him, he walked down the hall, opening the door to his daughters' room slightly. Both Celia and Nora were already fast asleep, and Cassian felt a smile break out on his lips... his little gems. He couldn't believe yet another one would be arriving soon.

He closed the door, making sure not to make any noise, and then headed to his room, praying that Nesta was okay and that his children had misunderstood everything.

He heard her before he even entered. He could picture her pacing back and forth through their room, muttering about what was bothering her at the moment.

He took a deep breath, ready to fight whatever demons there would be to fight that night together, and tightening his hand around the doorknob, he lowered it, pushing himself into the room.

Nesta stopped short, both hands wrapped under her belly to help support that extra weight she was always complaining about.

The second Cassian's eyes found hers, her expression completely transformed and a desperate sob broke the silence that had formed between them.

"Nesta." he said as if someone had just sucked the air from his lungs. Reaching for her with two quick strides and wrapping her in his arms, Cassian heard all kinds of emotion in his wife's crying.

When he stroked her back, Nesta let go a wail of pain and he immediately pulled away, still keeping his hands around her elbows as much as her cold hands tightened around his forearms.

"God, Nesta what happened?"

She only cried harder, loosening her grip on him when she was sure he wouldn't pull away. She managed to say between sobs, "Everything hurts."

Cassian felt as if the floor has cracked open beneath them. "Is it the baby?"

Nesta's eyes went wide, probably only realizing at that moment what state he'd found her in, "No, she's fine." then, seeing his increasingly worried expression, she added, "I promise the baby's fine."

Cassian sagged at little, reducing his lips to a thin line, gently pushed her towards the bed to get her to sit up, but Nesta shook her head, taking short, overly fast breaths, "I can't."

Cassian paused, taking her hands and trying to restrain himself from asking her who they had met that afternoon that had managed to trigger such a reaction in her. There was no way she could have been in that state just from being tired.

"I can't." repeated Nesta sobbing and looking into his eyes. "Everything hurts, Cassian."

He sighed, closing his eyes. Seeing her in this state was nothing new unfortunately. With four pregnancies behind them and everything they'd been through in the years prior to their marriage, it wasn't unusual for either of them to be in such a condition.

He opened his eyes, trying to keep a firm tone, "How come you can't sit down?"

"If I sit the pain gets worse." she said between choked breaths.

Cassian furrowed his brow, wanting to yell at her about how stupid it had been of her to go walking that afternoon, but he restrained himself. "Have you tried lying down?" he proposed.

Nesta shook her head again, "Any position hurts my back or my legs," she explained.

"Tell you what," he began hesitantly, taking both of her hands, "why don't you put on those super pants that support your belly - or I'll help you put them on, it's no problem," he added quickly when he saw the pain in her features, "and then I'll give you a leg massage while you're standing?" he said smiling at her coyly. Nesta sniffed, nodding slowly. "And when sitting doesn't hurt anymore or is bearable you get on your knees on the bed or lean against the keyboard and I massage your back too, are you up for that?"

She squeezed his hands to let him know she was okay with everything, so Cassian smiled at her, returning the squeeze and starting to pull away from her to go get the leggings, but Nesta's eyes went wide and a few tears rolled down her cheeks, "Where are you going?"

Cassian grimaced worriedly.

Why hadn't she called him if she was feeling this bad?

He moved back as close as he could without crushing Andra between them, "I was just going to get my pajamas, Nes, and your pants." he placed a hand on her face, stroking away the remnants of her crying. Then he sighed, pushing her forehead into his and keeping his eyes open as he whispered, "I love you."

She repeated it quietly, almost a sigh.

He undressed quickly, slipping into his pajamas with equal haste as Nesta stood motionless in the center of the room, waiting for him to return to her.

"Listen," Cassian began, kneeling in front of her as he helped her out of the pajama pants she was wearing, "the boys told me you met someone today." he forced himself to look at her, when the grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened. Cassian studied the reaction he'd elicited from her and bit the inside of his cheek, seeing how Nesta had frozen and put her foot down. He took a deep breath, giving her knee a little tap to let her know she needed to get it back up, "They didn't tell me who it was and I don't think they know, but I got some ideas and I want-" he swallowed loudly, thinking seriously about what might have happened if his doubts were real, "If it's Tomas, I want to know if you're okay." he said in a lower voice, looking at her from under his lashes. Nesta didn't answer.

He had managed to get both of her feet into her pants and was pulling them up gently, trying not to hurt her. He had to pull up the skirt of the robe she used during all her pregnancies when none of her pajamas fit anymore, uncovering her belly and left a gentle kiss on her skin, smiling at his daughter, "Hello my little sunshine."

He felt Nesta shiver and thinking it was from the cold he hurried to cover her belly with her pants and then pull her nightgown down.

He looked at her more seriously than ever as he settled on the floor in front of her so he could massage her into a comfortable position. He was about to speak, to ask her again how she was doing, but she beat him to it.

"What did you do today?" she asked in a weak voice.

Cassian closed his mouth, bouncing his legs, pondering whether to insist that she spoke or let her distract him with that question. He decided for the latter, even though his wife already knew very well what he had done that day, "This morning there was an exam of Ancient History for the first years." he began to speak while pressing his thumbs on her left thigh. Nesta was leaning her hands on his shoulders. "I have to be honest, I've never seen exams as crappy and ignorant as this session's," he continued while keeping his gaze fixed on her face. "It's like people stopped studying all of a sudden and thought they could pass my exams by learning the bare minimum."

He shifted on her other thigh and Nesta snapped forward, groaning softly as Cassian touched a particularly numb muscle.

"Sorry." he smiled at her, "Then at lunch I stayed in the faculty with Gwyn and Luc, and by the way, they asked me if you'd be okay with organizing a lunch this weekend, with everyone?"

Nesta rolled her eyes, "I can't even walk, let alone plan a lunch with everyone," she pointed out to him in an irritated tone.

Cassian chuckled, "I'll let Gwyn know you told her to fuck off nicely."

"Yes, thank you," she replied to him. But then she bit her lip, thoughtfully, "But if they want to do something at her or Elain's that's fine. I can also cook, but not here, please, I don't feel like tidying up afterwards." she looked into his eyes with a pleading look.

"It's okay, it's not a problem," he shifted to her calves, "Although, if the only problem has to be the fact that you don't feel like tidying up, you know I wouldn't let you."

Nesta grunted, "I don't want you to do all the work yourself."

Cassian let out a puff of air through his nostrils, "You can't be the only one working hard in this house Nes, let me have some of the glory too." he joked.

"But I'm not the only one." she said in an overly serious tone, "You're always at work and I know you're working overtime, filling in for your colleagues, don't think I haven't noticed," she scolded him. Cassian lowered his head, feeling his cheeks turn red. "And I'm here at home and I can't work and I've been like this for months now and even before that with Celia-" she sighed, bringing a hand to her face, "I just wish I could help you bring something extra home."

Cassian stopped massaging her leg, surprised at what he was hearing. He moved away from her, enough so that he could stand up without bumping into her stomach and then looked at her, shaking his head, "What on earth are you talking about?" he asked, "Nesta you're raising our children. You're doing a much more tiring and exhausting job than mine ever will be." he pulled himself upright, "True, it's just as rewarding and enjoyable to be able to stay home and watch our children grow up, but you're the biggest help I could ever get right now. We don't need money right now."

"But-"

"No buts." he said arching his eyebrows and pushing her towards the bed, "Do you think you can sit?" she nodded pensively and let him help her up onto the mattress. "Nesta what you're doing is admirable and I'm sure not everyone could handle it as well as you can."

Nesta stopped in the middle of the bed, turning to look at him with a shocked expression.

Cassian was just as shocked. That she didn't realize how much she was actually helping him was beyond comprehension.

"I can only get by because you're there," she murmured, looking away, "I'd never make it on my own."

"And no one expects you to make it, Nes." he said stunned. He really couldn't understand where all the doubt was coming from, "You don't have to make it on your own and you're not doing it on your own."

He had her settled so that her back was to him and she was turned to the wall. He placed his hands over her back and began to make concise circles on the bottom, applying pressure where he knew the pain was most concentrated. Nesta's head fell forward in relief.

"You really don't think you're helping me in any way?"

"No, I-" she froze mid-sentence, "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" he asked, using his knuckles to massage her shoulder muscles.

Nesta groaned softly, "It's just that I wish I could go back to work and read all the books I want and I wish I could feel tired and be able to let my kids cry without anyone telling me what to do and how to do it. I wish I could move without the terror of going into labor at any moment and-" she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I wish I wasn't so hormonal right now."

He could tell that her thoughts were all over the place.

There had been other such crises during Celia's pregnancy. The fear that they wouldn't measure up as parents to so many children. They were in constant thought that they were not giving them enough, that they were teaching them the wrong lessons. Cassian had received some nasty comments himself about how they were raising their children, and he knew right away that someone must have said something to Nesta that day.

They had always had stronger, more heartfelt reactions on her, and now that she was pregnant it was all much more altered.

"What happened today?" he asked her under his breath after a few moments of silence.

"No one slept, I didn't have a moment's peace and then we left and walked to the mall. I had to carry Nora all the way there and-" her voice broke on the last sentence and Cassian stopped his ministrations on her. He laid both hands on her back, getting as close as he could, letting his hands slide down her hips and then over her belly, until his chest made contact with her back and Nesta pushed back against him.

She dropped her head onto Cassian's shoulder.

"And?" he murmured, spurring her on.

"Everything hurt so much, Cass," she replied in a watery voice, "It was like I was being stabbed in the back and I couldn't put Nora down because she'd start crying."

A sharp twinge of pain shot through his chest. He began to gently massage her belly and shortly after he felt her small hands settle on his, pushing harder, "No one would try to say you're a bad mother just because you don't pick up your daughter when you're hurting."

She didn't answer.

"Celia?" he asked.

"Ezra and Cal held her hand the whole way, she walked so much," she said with a half smile on her face. "When we walked in they immediately started acting up and then they started crying and I couldn't take it anymore and these ladies said I was an awful mother and it's true, Cassian." she jerked in his arms as she said those last words. He only held her tighter, taking a deep breath. "Who is the mother who can't calm her own children when they cry? Her own children." she shook her head, running a hand under her eyes.

He couldn't see her face, but he knew she had started crying again.

"Nesta listen to me." he whispered to her, kissing her shoulder and then the tip of her ear. "You are the most loving and caring mother I know. Your children are perfectly healthy and you've never let them lack for anything. You've never raised your voice to them. You've never threatened them or grounded them-"

"I'm not a monster," she muttered.

"And more importantly," he said smiling and holding her tighter, "your children are happy."

"But Cal today-"

"Cal is downstairs watching TV with his brother and he's been telling me about his day and he's the happiest kid ever," he interrupted her, "Just because he threw a tantrum and cried a little doesn't mean you're not a good mother."

She sighed and nodded, though she didn't look convinced.

Cassian continued to stroke the spots on her belly where he knew her skin pulled the most, her hand still on his playing with the wedding ring on his finger when Nesta said, "I saw Tomas today."

Cassian froze behind her, holding his breath. He'd known it, but hearing the fear in her voice now as she said the name of the man Cassian hated most in the world didn't stop him from wincing.

"He bumped Cal with the cart and knocked him over and I didn't realize it was him until he called me," Nesta continued.

When Cassian spoke, his voice came out much harsher and tighter than he intended, "Did he-" he cleared his throat, "Did he say anything?"

"No, he-" Nesta brought both hands to her stomach, shifting his. She moved uncomfortably in his arms and Cassian loosened his grip on his wife, realizing she wanted to move. He grabbed her by the hips, trying to pull her up so she could turn toward him, and when she was finally sitting up with her back against the headboard of the bed, she sighed. "I saw him, Cass, and I froze." she said under her breath, looking into his eyes. "He touched Cal's hair and it was like he was touching me, again, and I completely froze and then the baby kicked and he touched my-" she took a ragged breath as her eyes filled with tears. When she spoke again, her voice was so weak that Cassian had to appeal to every ounce of his reasoning not to get up and go find Tomas to kill him.

He took her hands, remaining silent as a revolting feeling took over his body. The idea of Nesta being touched by that filthy man made his guts turn. The idea of his children-

A choked sob brought him back into the room, "And I wanted him to go and stop looking at Ezra and Celia and Nora and I could only move when Ezra called me, but he followed us and blocked our way. He asked me about you, wanted to know who you were, and it was like going back in time and I couldn't- I couldn't, Cass-" Nesta brought a hand to her chest, her eyes and mouth wide as panic appeared in her gaze and air struggled to reach her lungs.

Cassian squeezed her hands, speaking softly, "Nesta, it's okay." a sob from her, "You're all home." he murmured starting to massage her palm, "You're home with me."

Her breathing became even more erratic and she shook her head, closing her eyes.

Cassian closed his eyes as well, "I'm sorry you had to see him again and I'm sorry you couldn't move, but it's understandable, sweetheart." he was trying to keep his tone of voice relatively low, to calm her down, but it was proving difficult for him as he viewed Tomas watching his daughters. "He shouldn't have touched your belly. He shouldn't have just touched you at all. And he shouldn't have gotten close to Cal or Andra." he seethed. "And if I could I would go to him and rip his hands off." he let slip as he imagined the terror Nesta must have felt at that moment.

Nesta sobbed and the sound broke Cassian's heart, "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry."

A pang of pain tightened in his chest as his face turned into a mask of controlled anger, "Don't ever apologize to me, please," he whispered, "Not for this stuff."

"But I couldn't do anything, even after all this time-" a hiccup broke the sentence, "He still has all this power over me. It's not fair."

It's not fair.

Cassian nodded, biting the inside of his cheek, "You're right, it's not fair." he squeezed her hands lightly, telling her to look at his face. She quickly did so. "You're not with him anymore. You're free. You don't owe him anything, just like you never owed him anything." Nesta took a shaky breath, stopping sobbing. "You have a family, you're a wonderful mother and wife. And you deserve all of this."

Nesta's eyes went wide, realizing where this was going.

Cassian took a deep breath, "You're not worthless, you're not hopeless or useless." he closed his eyes as Nesta mimicked him, breathing deeply in turn. "You are a strong, independent woman, it doesn't matter how much he said otherwise. It didn't matter before and it doesn't matter now. It's just meaningless words.

"I know you, Nesta, and you are the light of my life. The light of every person in this house. The only thing that keeps us going." he whispered in a weak voice, as Nesta leaned forward toward him and cried silently.

Cassian moved closer to her on the mattress so that she could rest her forehead against his chest, his shoulder, wherever she wanted, for support.

He had repeated those words to her so many times over the years. He didn't think he'd ever have to do it again, certainly not after so long that they both knew Tomas had moved to another continent entirely.

"I know you and you're nothing like he describes," he encircled her shoulders with arms when Nesta let go of a particularly loud sob. "You are the exact opposite of what he says." he kissed one temple, stroking the hair on her back.

She shivered in his arms, "I know." she whispered against his shirt.

Cassian managed to force a smile onto his lips, even though she couldn't see it, he knew she would hear it when he spoke, "I'm proud of you."

"Why?"

"Because I can only imagine how hard it was for you to see him again, and although I would have appreciated a different approach to everything that happened this afternoon, you handled it perfectly and our kids are fine." he passed his hands over her shoulders and pushed her away from him so he could look at her face. "And it's okay that you broke down now, it's normal. I'm glad you told me about it. Thank you." he spoke against her lips.

She smiled, breathing a laugh through her tears, "I love you."

"I love you." repeated Cassian, sighing. He cupped her cheek, brushing a thumb under her eye, before kissing her. No rush or force, just pure, raw emotion as their lips caressed in a desperate kiss.

acotar taglist (if you wanna be added or removed just send me an ask or dm me)

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @ladywitchling @nahthanks @archeron-queen @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @perseusannabeth @simping4bookboisngrls @anne-reads @fantastypenguins @laylaameer01 @thalia-2-rose @darkshadowqueensrule

#nessian #TSOU nessian fic #TSOU #the seven of us #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian baby #nessian child #nessian children #nessian angst #nessian fic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #a court of silver flames

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nengojo · 3 years

Note

Could we please get some relationship headcanons for Ann, Makoto, Futaba and Haru?

i kinda went overboard and wrote more than I expected... but i am a sap for relationship hcs!! also saw that 4/23 is makoto’s bday, which is very cool and convenient for me hehe ,, hope you like this <33

word count: 1.549 warnings: SLIGHT STORY SPOILER IN HARU'S PART tags/genre: fluff, just all of it

requests are open!

Takamaki Ann

She loves to pamper you. Be it buying you stuff, treating you her favorite desserts, or staying over at your place and dressing you up with cute outfits. You try to do the same for her and she enjoys it as well.

A LOT of PDA, though it’s not over the top. She’d pepper kisses all over your face whenever she’s excited. Or always bury her face in your neck whenever she needs to be closer to you.

Even though Ann hasn’t dated anyone before you, she definitely learned and read up on how to be the best girlfriend. Probably read those relationships magazines (she denies it though)

Ann prefers simpler dates at the park or karaoke, but she wouldn’t mind making reservations for fancier restaurants if there’s an occasion. Would definitely choose buffets over the 5-star restaurant though.

Speaking of occasions, she’s the type to have celebrations for every little thing you guys do together as a couple. It can range from monthsaries, your first beach date, or your first night together. Ann keeps trinkets with her from every date you two go on.

Ann always has you on her mind. If she sees a new cheesecake shop, she buys it thinking that you would enjoy sharing it with her. When she saw cute phone charms, she bought a pair so you and her would have a “couple-y” item.

Would be into double dates, she doesn’t say it, but it definitely comes from her competitive side of showing off. Ann wants everyone to know she’s dating the best person ever. 💕

Introduces you to her parents through Skype. Ann says she couldn’t wait till her parents come back from their trips, so you could properly meet them. She quells your nervousness by saying that they already approved of you.

Petnames are minimal, but it’s very sweet when she does use them with you. You think it’s because she enjoys the flustered expression on your face when she calls you “baby” or “sweetie”.

Ann’s just a proud girlfriend! Be ready to be treated like the royalty you are, as you made her feel her worth once more.

Niijima Makoto

Similar to Ann, she values your relationship and you greatly. Makoto would be careful as possible around you. Always tending to your needs, mindful of what she says and does around you. There’s constant communication between you and her.

Probably would overheat out of embarrassment if she tries to cling onto you when in public, so hand-holding and touching knees while sitting together is enough for her.

Makoto DEFINITELY researched every possible tip and ‘guide’ on how to be the perfect girlfriend. You insist that she doesn’t need to incorporate all those into your relationship, saying that she’s perfect as the way she is.

With all that studying though, she actually sets up the best dates for you two. She always invites you to a newly-opened restaurant or gets the best seats whenever there’s a film showing nearby.

That said, she still prefers dates in secluded areas, places similar to Leblanc. She has this favorite nature trail that she found out about in dating forums and would take you there on nightly walks, talking about everything and nothing.

Makoto doesn’t announce your relationship to others, thinking that it’s better if people found out naturally. She likes the look on people’s faces when she admits to having a significant other while she acts all innocent and pure about it.

Her sister would openly confront her about your relationship, but Sae is lowkey super supportive of you and her. She says it’s good that someone is at Makoto’s side when she isn’t there.

She acts composed around others, but you’re the only one she lets see her vulnerable side. You tell her it’s adorable that you can easily tease her. (please don’t tease her too much or she’ll implode from being too flustered)

Makoto would think she’s too mature for petnames, but you don’t hold it against her, especially when she says your name with so much love in her voice every time.

Makoto is an observant girlfriend! She says it’s because she wants you to know that she genuinely cares and that she’s grateful to be yours.

Sakura Futaba

Futaba’s relationship with you feels natural from the start, despite her insistence that she would suck being a girlfriend. You reassure her at the start that she would do great with little to no effort, and she does :)

Wouldn’t even think twice about PDA, She feels safe and secure when she’s closer to you, so the more contact, the better. If she could, Futaba would shamelessly cling onto your back like a koala. (and you’d let her)

She says that experience is the best teacher, so she went into your relationship completely blind. The whole thing had its setbacks; she tried to kiss you out of nowhere one time, since “that’s what couples do, right?” You told her that there was no rush, and she was grateful for that.

She’s a fast learner though, and it manifests in her innocent but sincere gestures. When she thinks that you’re sad, she tells you jokes or shows you a meme she liked on her phone. Futaba thinks that whatever makes her happy, might cheer you up too.

Absolutely loves talking about her interests to you, because she knows that you would never judge her or question what she likes. You enjoy being on the listening side, since the way Futaba lights up is enough for you.

Alternatively, she’s a very active listener whenever you would talk about your day or share something about your interests. Futaba encourages you to tell her more about it, and on her own time, she learns about your said interests so she can participate in the conversations better.

In terms of interests, she convinced you to play video games with her (if you don’t already play) and it’s already a date for the two of you. Dates always involve either trips to Akihabara, arcade hopping, or the park when she wants quiet times with you.

Sojiro enjoys seeing you two interact whenever you guys stop by at Leblanc. When Futaba was in the restroom, he whispered to you saying that he hasn’t seen Futaba this energetic ever since she was a kid. That meant a lot to you.

She started calling you exaggerated names like “my lovely sweetheart babycakes” or “little fluffball whiskers”. Other than that, her favorite petname for you was “bub”, since she said the funny word fit you well. You love hearing it from her too.

Futaba is a heartfelt girlfriend! Your bond with each other has always been close, and now you get the chance to be closer.

Okumura Haru

Haru would be reserved from openly showing affection at the start, but you give her all the time and space she needs. She appreciates it greatly and reciprocates the effort in kind.

PDA is a no-no, although she does unknowingly flirt with you in the sweetest way. She has a way with words that makes the simplest compliment seem like the highest praise, and it’s enough to make you feel loved.

With her training for marriage, she obviously knows the basic aspects of a relationship. Taking care of you comes naturally to her, yet you were there to show her that she can receive the same amount of love that she readily gives to you.

You teased her about how she acts more like a mother to you, and she misunderstood and profusely apologized (poor sweetheart). Haru explains that she loves seeing you thrive and be happy, which in turn makes her happy.

It started as an innocent suggestion, but Haru wanted to write love letters to you from time to time. In most instances she would pass it onto you after a date, saying that you should read it when you get home. Other times she would quietly slip it in your bag as a surprise for you to find.

You’ve come to appreciate the craft that Haru puts into the letters. She always chooses the delicate papers, sometimes scented. And other letters had pressed flowers in the envelope. The most precious thing in the letter though was her confessions and affirmations.

Haru lets you choose your date locations since she wants to be more accustomed to city life. You once brought her to a conveyor belt sushi place, and you couldn’t handle the joy in your eyes when you saw her be fascinated about it. “It just moves in little trains! It’s so innovative and cute,” she says.

When you were closer with her, she opened up more about her father to you, even inviting you to visit the shrine dedicated to him in the mansion. That was the first time you saw her cry, and you promised yourself to do your best so you never have to see her like that again.

Romantic petnames suit her well, but she only uses them when you two are alone. Hearing Haru call you “my lily” or “my light” always caught you off-guard no matter how many times you have heard it.

Haru is a compassionate girlfriend! She treats you as delicately as she acts and you know that you’re in good hands with her, as she is with your own.

#persona 5 x reader #persona 5 imagines #ann takamaki #ann takamaki x reader #makoto niijima #makoto niijima x reader #futaba sakura #futaba sakura x reader #haru okumura #haru okumura x reader #persona 5 x you #phantom thieves x reader #nenshcs #request #HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAKOTO!! ur the best girl in my heart

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

Text

in which you study in a different country and meet someone along the way.

hi lovelies! this is my fic for miss olivia’s @bfharry boyfriendathon! i’ve had this concept for a year now, and i’m so happy i was finally able to write it!

thank you to @bopbopstyles @stellarboystyles & @avhrodite for beta-ing! <3

enjoy 7.5k words of friends to lovers & uni!harry & boyfriend!harry !! also the story is supposed to go semi-fast since it is mostly flashbacks, the sparkly breaks will tell you when the flashbacks start and end!

i’ve made a playlist for this fic! if anyone would like to listen while reading click here

please please leave feedback! super excited for this because it’s probably a fav of mine and i’m really proud of it, so i would love to know what you think! a reblog, comment, and/or ask would mean a lot! <3

The birds were chirping and the sun was beaming on you, leaving a glow to your skin that had shined ever so brightly, giving you a healthy and lovely tint to your skin. It was a lovely day that there was not an ounce of complaint in your mind because of the beautiful weather Mother Nature decided to provide you with, knowing that you hadn’t gotten perfect weather for the past few weeks. The trees and grass were as green as ever as slight wind rustled between the leaves, making the sound of the crisp leaves loud.

It was a moment like this where you felt so happy and grateful to be in a beautiful city; that you had made the right decision. The London view and atmosphere does not compare to any other place in the world, aside from the fact that you haven’t been to many places in your life. But you’re a bit biased on your opinion because London graced you with your boyfriend, Harry. You remembered the first time you came to London just two years ago, and you never imagined how your life had planned out until this very moment.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

You had stepped on the plane with nervous thoughts running through your head. It was the first time you ever rode a plane, and your destination was hours away, practically a full day. It was a major step, and you probably should’ve thought it through; maybe traveling to the next state, but to travel to another country was a big step for you.

It wasn’t a vacation, more like, school in a different country for a few months. You had decided to study abroad when you were in high school, wanting to get away from home and also learning in a brand new place without the toxicity hanging onto your foot as you try walking away. It had taken a while to finally study abroad because the requirements of you needing to finish your first year of college before you could study in the fall.

Your family hadn’t taken it well, but you decided that there was nothing you could do to stop them. You were going to pay for the trip and your expenses all on your own. It definitely helped that you got a scholarship to go to university in the first place, and lucky enough to live on campus away from home.

You were sad that they didn’t feel an ounce of happiness for you, and you had asked your cousin to take you to the airport, being the only person to bid you goodbye. The feeling was overbearing and overwhelming, making your heart sink but at the same time feel full with sadness. At the time, you had felt like everything was holding you back and you just wanted to get away.

A new start was needed.

It was August when you traveled alone to London. Anxiety was boiling in your throat as you craved the need to hold onto something as the ride was quite bumpy, making you sweat and shake. But you survived, and you were at your new home. At least for the next 4 months.

It wasn’t a hard decision to decide to study abroad, but you really hoped you met good people and made friends. It had always been a struggle making and keeping a good batch of people in your life. You had thought it was easy to make friends during your time in London; no one knows you and they don’t know your insecurities. So, you thought it was going to be easy.

And luckily, you were right.

You had met your three best girl friends, all that you had shared a small place with. The common room had held so many memories between the four of you, and you felt so immensely grateful for them. Late night talks and laughs while drinking wine and eating snacks were some of your best memories. You had missed the common room greatly.

One night, Tanya had suggested a night out on their first week there, “let’s all go out with the guys tonight! I already met Peter, and we talked about going out, so we could introduce you to everyone!”

The girls and guys were stoked for the most part, and you were excited too, but also nervous, hoping the guys had found something interesting about you.

And that was the night you met Harry.

Some of the students that went to university in London shared a dorm with the abroad students until they left. Half were in the art program and the other half was the journalism program. Two of the girls in your dorm, Donna and Sophie, were in the journalism class, and you and Tanya were in the art one. You had wished everyone was in the same class, but that made get togethers and dinners at night way more fun because it had felt like everyone had so much to catch up on, and the fun was at the highest level.

You had seen Harry approximately twice within your first week, but it was merely just from passing. But that night was the first proper night you hung out with him and everyone else.

You couldn’t deny that he was insanely attractive. Just at first glance he had that sort of charm to him that was irresistible and alluring, wanting more after he was done talking. He was a bit on the quiet side when you met him, but learned that he started getting louder and talkative once you warmed up to him. He was outgoing and fun, the life of the party once he had a drink or two in his system, and when he does have some liquid courage, he gets cuddly and affectionate.

“Do you want another drink?” He asked in his buzzed state.

“I think I’m okay right now, and who’s going to take care of you when you keep having more?” You teased. It was definitely the alcohol talking because you would have never voluntarily teased someone like that.

“Well, we have a few people in our group.” It had made your heart flutter when he said ‘our.’ You had never had a group of friends to call yours, and although it was only the first week, you had known they were going to be a group of special people close to your heart.

“Our friend group is also drunk off their asses, so I think there needs to be a responsible person right now, and that is me,” you put your hands under your chin and started fluttering your eyes innocently. Harry thought you were the most charming and sweetest girl he’s ever met, and it had only been a week.

“Okay, whatever you say, missy,” he teased. You held back your big smile, corners of your lips turned up.

“Go get your drink. I’ll wait here,” you pushed his shoulder slightly towards the bar with a chuckle.

“Ooh, bossy. I like it,” he said with a wink before he headed towards the bar. You were lucky that he had already left to get a drink, or else he would’ve seen your face turn into a light red shade, flustered from his actions.

As the night went on, Harry had practically clung onto you when he was buzzed, and never let you go until everyone walked back to the dorms.

“No, don’t wanna leave ya,” he whined a bit when you tried handing him off to his friend. “Nooo, don’t make me go with him,” he pouted as if he was a child. You had gigged, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was drunk (and not drunk) as he clung onto you until you physically had to put him in his bed.

His arms were still tight around you, your body was laying slightly on top of him. Lazy smiles and droopy eyes were made at you, causing you to chuckle.

“Mmm. Hello,” he said with a giggle.

“Hi. You okay?”

“Yup. Perfect. You know...you’re very pretty,” he says as he smiled. Although he was drunk, Harry was telling the truth.

“Thank you.” And although he was drunk, it still made you smile.

“Mhm…” he mumbled in response. The silence between you two was enough to lull him to sleep; arms were still around you.

“Goodnight, Harry,” you said against his forehead, giving him a small kiss as you tried your best to slip out of his hold.

That moment had changed everything.

The two of you had gotten closer after that night. The next day, you bumped into him in the lobby of the building and he asked if you wanted to walk to class with him.

You laughed about it with him as you walked, “you were so cute last night.”

“Yeah, M’sorry about that. I get like that when m’drunk,” he shyly said.

“No need to apologize. I’m glad you had fun,” you said with a smile. He had smiled back at you as he felt the butterflies in his stomach flutter around.

You and Harry spent almost everyday after class together or in between classes for a quick bite to eat. There was a usual coffee shop near the building that you would always meet each other at on Mondays and Wednesdays. On Tuesday, you two would walk together to a fish n’ chips spot for lunch. On Thursdays, it was a sandwich shop. Fridays you saved your outings for that night as everyone got together on Fridays.

“We could make this our thing, y’know?” Harry suggested.

“Fish n’ Chips Tuesdays?” You beamed at him.

“Yeah, and coffee shop Mondays and Wednesdays, and sandwich shop Thursdays,” he was quite nervous getting that out, but he managed to do it with a smile.

“That would be nice. Don't you think you would get tired of me?” You teased him, raising your eyebrow as you took a handful of fries and shoving them in your mouth. You hadn’t realized, at the time, how unattractive you might’ve looked, but Harry couldn’t help but smile and fall deeper.

And he never got tired of you.

Aside from having lunch and coffee everyday together, you had taken him to art museums. He wasn’t horrible at trying to interpret art, but looking at you beside him as you gazed at the art above yourself was something that he was fond of. He smiled every time you got lost in the art as you studied it, passionately looking up, trying to figure out what each piece means to you. It was admirable, really.

“You’re gonna be up there one day, watch,” he had whispered to you as you were in a daze. You chuckled as you looked at him, seeing if he was messing around. He wasn't though. He had seen your paintings and sketches, and thought that you deserved to be hung up high in the gallery.

“You’re sweet,” you smiled and he put his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to his side. The affection had made you blush, thinking how you were falling for your best friend.

After two months into studying abroad, you felt the happiest you’ve ever been. Aside from the constant moving around and trying your best to explore every part of the city, you felt like you belonged there. All those years living, you felt like you weren’t truly living, and being in London was possibly one of the best decisions you’ve ever made.

You felt at peace. You were calm, and genuinely happy. Your head wasn’t racing like it was back in your hometown, and you weren’t anxiously looking over your shoulder, realizing that no one really is after you.

The group decided to take a trip to Paris for the day, and the rest of the days would be spent hitting up a city or two. Everyone had the week off; a bit like spring break as you finished the first half of studying abroad. Everyone was super excited, and you haven’t been to Paris before so it was going to be a new place that you could check off from your list with your favorite people.

It was a two and a half hour train ride from London to Paris, so you had loaded up a two hour playlist for the ride.

At the time, it seemed like everyone knew that you were crushing on Harry, except Harry himself. When everyone boarded, the only seat empty was the one next to him. You weren’t mad, in fact, you were thrilled that the seat next to him was vacant. When you sat next to him, his eyes beamed, glad to see you, and you looked over at your friends as they gave you that teasing eye look while you rolled your eyes.

“Anyone sitting here?” You asked and he shook his head no, giving you a small smile to sit down.

Everyone was still tired, considering it was 7 in the morning, and the group wanted to stay in Paris for the entire day. You yawned and Harry looked at you, giving you a soft smile. You grabbed your earphones out of your purse, handing one earphone to him and placing the other in your ear. In that moment, Harry was so happy as you two listened to Frank Sinatra on the way to Paris, placing your head on your shoulder and his on your head as Frank lulled you both into a nap before your adventure together.

The entire day was eventful, but exhausting. With everyone on their feet, they were all ready to crash and luckily it was nearing sunset before the last train of the day.

The last touristy place was the famous Eiffel Tower. Everyone had decided to get some wine and snacks as the whole group sat on a big blanket in the grass area in front of the Eiffel Tower. The sun was slowly setting and the guys were playing with a soccer ball, passing it around as the girls drank and talked; music playing from the speaker Sophie had brought with her.

You took a mental picture of the scene around you; the people, atmosphere, and the feeling. And you had softly smiled, thinking these are the people in your life that are going to be in your life forever. Despite the fact that half of you had to go separate ways, there was a certainty in your head that everyone will always end up back together again.

The sun had fully set and the lights on the Eiffel Tower had turned on as it started twinkling, lighting up Paris since the sun had gone tired. The guys were getting tired as well, so they sat with the girls. Harry was on your right side, arm behind your back but he didn’t touch you as it rested on the blanket and he leaned on it.

“Dance with me,” he whispered ever so softly in your ear. You turned towards him and he smiled.

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now. Please, dance with me,” he pleaded and you nodded. He had immediately gotten up and helped you up.

‘A Sunday Kind of Love’ by Etta James began playing softly as you and Harry swayed. Your arms were around his neck and his were around your waist. Chests pressed together as you had felt his heartbeat that pounded through his chest that gladly traveled to your chest, making your heart beat in sync with his.

It was silent between you two. There were no outside noises interrupting your bubble as you two ignored the eyes your friends were giving you. It was just you and Harry, the music, and the Eiffel Tower that captured your love and kept it for memory sake as you swayed under the moonlight.

Harry had pulled away from you, looking so intently in your eyes, fondness gleamed out of them.

“Be mine,” he said softly. “I’m fallin’ for you, and I’m fallin’ hard. Please be mine already?” You were about ready to cry in that moment, but tears glossed your eyes.

You nodded and he beamed, “Only if you agree to be mine as well because I’m falling for you too,” you added.

Harry immediately nodded, “I’ve been yours…this whole time.”

“Harry…”

“Yes, darling?” The pet name had come unexpected, but you loved it nonetheless.

“Kiss me.”

He took your face in his hands, brushing away the strands of hair that had covered your pretty eyes before capturing your lips with his. The molded between your lips and his was perfect, like they were meant to be kissing Harry’s. Your hold on him grew tighter as your tongues touched for the first time. It sent shivers down your spine and made the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

It was a moment that would never leave your mind and you two would cherish it forever.

It had been two weeks since the group arrived back to London from Paris. Two weeks since the best day of your life, and you and Harry were attached at the hip and at the heart. It had been so easy to be around him, and you couldn’t believe he was your boyfriend. Your boyfriend.

You’ve been falling for him ever since the day you went out with everyone for the first time and clung onto you like a koala. But you were glad to be that tree for him that night.

The regular dates hadn’t stopped. You two acted the same around each other, and that was because of the friendship before the relationship. And you were able to hold his hand while walking down the street and kiss him against the wall of an alley.

It was the third month of school, and everyone was swamped in midterm studies. The amount of stress everyone had was enough for an entire school year because of how fast paced the program was.

It neared eleven at night in the boys’ dorm. Everyone’s heads were in their books or typing on their laptop, papers scattered around them. For the art program, you had to visit various museums and look for a painting that defined the meaning of Impressionism art along with a 2,000 words that went along with the painting.

Multiple yawns passed through the room, and everyone was exhausted.

“Alright, I’m done for the night. Can’t do anymore studying,” Tanya said as she started packing her things up loosely.

“Yeah, think we should call it a night,” Cade suggested.

A series of ‘goodlucks’ and hugs went around the room as everyone packed their things up, and the girls went off to the dorm as you were still packing, wanting a minute alone with Harry.

“Stay the night?” He had suggested, and you turned around and stopped fixing your things.

“You want me to?”

“Yeah. Think I’ll sleep better with you here and m’all stressed out.”

“Okay,” you replied back, thinking that you would sleep better with him as well.

As you two got into bed, Harry had played music on his phone, saying that it had helped him sleep and it was a habit when getting into bed. You noticed that you and Harry had the same love for Frank Sinatra as he hugged you to his chest.

The two had laid there, not even closing your eyes to try and get some sleep. But rather, staring at the ceiling, running your hands up and down each other’s skin.

And the moment you had leaned up to give him a kiss, you two couldn’t stop there.

Hands that roamed your body had made that electrifying feeling stronger, pulling him in for more. The passionate kisses that you two traded had triggered each other’s arousal as he hovered over you. The pull and undressing of each other’s clothes while ‘Strangers in the Night’ played had left you wanting more and more of him.

“I’ve never done this before. Like any of this,” you whispered.

“Do you want to continue? We don’t have to if you don’t want to--I’m definitely fine with just kissin’ ya,” he said with a smile, causing you to beam at him being a gentleman.

“Yes, want this so bad, baby.” You responded quickly, feeling very eager. He smiled in return and continued what he was doing.

He had asked you throughout the experience if you were okay with everything, and when you told him ‘yes please, give it to me’, he made sure he got you ready for him; rubbing your button and fingering you to your high, something you’ve never experienced with another person.

It was the reassurance that Harry had given for your first time, and the constant questions of making sure if you were okay and if you were comfortable when he slowly pushed into you, trying to make sure he wasn’t being too hard with you because of his hard and big length.

“So good for me,” he whispered out, kissing your lips.

“Feels so good,” you had moaned out, never experiencing this type of feeling before. The pleasure had taken over the stinging feeling of your Harry entering you for the first time. You two were connected in a way you’ve never felt before.

The soft whispers of praises that fell from your lips, and your arousal and orgasm prior that lubricated Harry’s thrusting, had made him feel so many things. He wanted to last for you, he didn't want this moment to end. Scratches in his hair and down his back had encouraged him to continue as you moaned his name in his ear, and he pressed wet kisses to your neck as he grabbed your breast.

Two strangers in the night who had no idea of each other’s existence just three months ago. They had no clue of what their life was going to become when they met each other. It was the way you looked at each other that he knew you weren’t going to be just a stranger to him. Although he had a bit of alcohol in his system, he knew in his heart that he was going to find that sort of comfort and caring personality when he started talking to you.

Harry continued to make love to you as the moonlight was seeping through the blinds, like the love that seeped through your veins for each other. He brought you both to your highs, and the only thing that was heard was the hushed moans and groans that came out of your mouths that could signify the love you have for one another.

It was that moment that changed everything.

The fourth month had approached sooner than you would like.

You and Harry hadn’t discussed what was going to happen when you had to leave, but you had hoped that you could make long distance work.

The feelings you had for him were nothing you had ever felt before. It had made you cry out of happiness in random times, but also made you want to scream because of how too good to be true he is.

He treated you like a queen. Making sure to give you as much love as you could handle, but sometimes a little more because he couldn’t hold it in.

Throughout the weeks, you had learned so much about him and him, you. You didn’t think there was someone in the world that was so kind and caring; someone who shares similar passions and likes the same things you do. He was an angel sent from above, and you wanted to keep him for as long as possible.

One night, you two shared your pasts together as you laid in bed together after a session of love making and a few rounds of hard fucking per your request.

The fear you had inside of you was trickling down with your words when you had told him your insecurities and stories of your family that you wanted to forget. But he took everything so well; never looking at you for your insecurities, but only for your heart.

“They weren’t very really supportive of me--of what I wanted to do. They just expected me to follow what they wanted, and I didn’t like that…” His hands roamed your skin innocently, comforting you and let you know he was there for you. “I was already miserable there. I didn’t want to be even more miserable doing something I hated. So I went against their demands and they said they weren’t going to pay for anything. But luckily I got a scholarship, and moved away from home.”

“I’m proud of you for doing that.” You looked up at him as he continued. “It’s admirable to see you chase your dream and do what you want to do, despite being told by parents who don’t support you. You’re strong for that, y’know?” You hadn’t responded; just took in his words of support and comfort. You kissed his chest, leaving soft and wet kisses to his skin.

It was like you couldn’t get enough of him. The magnetic pull that you had between you had grown, making the force stronger than ever, and you never wanted to leave his side.

As the last few weeks of studying abroad we’re coming to an end, everyone was focused on finals. There weren’t that many dinners or nights out at that moment, but everyone had time since the people who lived outside of England had a week before they had to pack up and leave.

One night as Harry was in your room, studying on the bed as you were writing a paper for your final project, he had suggested visiting his hometown.

“Darling, I have a question,” he perked up. You looked at him and nodded for him to continue. “You could say no and that would be totally fine, but how about we go to my hometown this weekend? We could even study over there. It’s less noisy and it’s not a hussle and bussle kind of town. I just want you to be able to see where I grew up.”

You smiled, “Sounds nice. Where are we going to stay?”

“Figured we could stay at my mum’s? She’s got a great backyard, or we could explore and I could take you around,” he said with great hope. Your heart fluttered, Harry wanted you to see where he grew up. He wanted to show you every corner of his hometown.

“Oh…at your mom’s. Is she going to be there?” The thought of meeting his mother had scared you. You had never met anyone’s parents, and it was the nagging thought in your head telling you that you were going to mess it up.

“Yeah, but we could get a hotel or something-”

“No! I would love to stay there, and I would love to meet your mom.”

Harry smiled, giving you a kiss to your lips before grabbing his phone and texting his mother.

The train ride to Holmes Chapel was about two and a half hours.

You suddenly had a fascination with trains as you felt like it kept you calm while you watched different towns and buildings pass by.

With the speed of the train, it had felt like you were in slow motion. Your eyes tried taking in everything you saw, capturing every moment of what you want to remember. And Harry is in a lot of those images.

Holmes Chapel was very welcoming and warm. Despite the weather, it was warm. It felt like home. It was a small town and everyone seemed to know the next person, but you loved every part of it because it was where Harry grew up.

His childhood home was even lovelier. Maybe it was because of the fact that Anne lived there and Harry grew up there, but she was ever so sweet and welcomed you in with open arms.

She had taken a liking to you immediately, telling you childhood stories of Harry and his sister, Gemma, that only family knew. Harry was ultimately surprised at how quickly Anne opened up to you. He knew his mother was kind, but she kept to herself and didn’t speak when she was uncomfortable, so to see his mother laughing loudly with his also somewhat shy girlfriend, made his heart burst with love.

Harry had watched them sit at the dining table, sharing stories as he leaned against the kitchen counter as he wore a robe to keep him warm while smiling so big that his jaw physically started to hurt.

He’d never had felt so loved and had never loved anything like he does with you. It surprised him how fast he fell for you, but it was quite possibly the easiest thing he did. There was no judgement in the relationship. You had kept him grounded and helped him when he was going through a rut when writing.

The only thing that was bad about the relationship was the distance that will be put between you two when you leave to go back home. He didn’t want this to become a fling, to have a time limit. He knew exactly what he was getting into the day he asked you to be his, and he didn’t want to let go of you.

And he truly hoped you felt the same.

Just after you and Harry were back in London after visiting Anne and his hometown, finals had approached rather quickly. You had had a great time spending a little time with his mother, and you think she liked you very much. There were countless conversations and laughs that you will never forget.

“Can I ask you something sweetheart?” Anne asked.

“Of course,” you said, and you had been nervous as to what she was going to ask.

“You mentioned that you were leaving just before the holiday, but I just wanted to ask where that leaves you and Harry. Are you two still going to be together?” A frown had made an appearance on her face, resembling your own.

“I would like to. We haven’t spoken about it, but I’m sure that conversation will happen soon,” you had answered honestly.

“You still would still want to be with him?” You nodded in response. “That’s great to know. I like you a lot, and Harry has taken quite the liking towards you as well, but I just didn’t know if it was some sort of abroad type of relationship; someone to just keep you company in a new country-”

“No, it’s nothing like that! I know it’s only been almost two months of our relationship, but I love him, and I would never let him go. I didn’t want to study abroad to have a relationship, but he stumbled into my life so unexpectedly and I don’t have plans of letting that kind of love go.”

Everything you had said was the whole truth. You weren’t expecting a relationship to come out of this, but you’re so immensely happy that it did because Harry walked into your life. Although you hadn’t known him for a very long time, quality overruled quantity. The connection you two had made within the few months meant something deeper than a fling.

Anne smiled and nodded, like she was appreciating you and her respect for you had increased. The topic was over, and it was onto the next that was followed by laughs. And that entire time you stayed at her house, Anne knew exactly why Harry had fallen in love with you.

The last week of being in London had come very quickly, and sadness was an understatement.

The people who were leaving had decided to start packing the things that they didn’t need and weren’t going to use anymore, so they had extra time to spend and go out with everyone because packing your things for four months plus the things you bought wasn’t all that fun.

It was Monday morning after finals when you had heard your phone buzz on your bedside table. You had groaned as it felt like you had slept for only 30 minutes. You debated on whether to check it in your sleepy state. The buzzing had stopped, making your thoughts turn off, but started back up once again and you figured you should check it.

Harry was calling you in the early hours of the morning. It was 6 a.m and if it were anyone else, you would ignore it.

“Harry? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You had mumbled once you answered the phone. Harry chuckled, but also fell deeper in love as you were just as caring as you were awake.

“Darling, m’fine! M’actually outside of your dorm. I didn’t want to knock and wake everyone else up, but get up. We’re going on an adventure,” he said in a hushed voice, and you practically heard his smile through the phone.

“Harry…” your eyes were still closed, exhausted from your slumber.

“Please, baby. You won’t regret it.”

And you didn’t. You never regretted anything when it came to Harry.

You had gotten up and dressed warm enough for your adventure, and met Harry outside to which he rewarded you with a hug and kiss, thanking you for putting up with him.

You both got in Peter’s car that Harry had begged him to take for a little bit, and luckily he agreed because the tube wasn’t running at that time. With Harry’s arm in your lap, you leaned on his arm as you closed your eyes until he took you both to your destination.

It was still a bit dark out, but it was way past the starry night it was a few hours ago. The sun was just about ready to rise, and the early bird got the worm.

Harry had held your hand as he led you both up to top of the Primrose Hill, showing the beautiful London city. It had taken you both a while to get to the top, due to you being extremely sleepy still and sluggishly holding you both back. Harry had set a blanket down for you two to sit on, and you immediately snuggled into him.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, darling. We have a sunrise to watch,” he said, leaning his head down and caressing your face.

“Mmm. Tired,” you grumbled.

“Please? It’s your last week here,” he said sadly, and you wished you hadn’t complained that you were tired because hearing his tone had almost broke your heart. But that woke you up slightly, realizing that you didn’t want to miss another moment with him.

The sky had gotten a little lighter, and Harry checked his phone for the time, about 30 minutes till the sun started to rise.

“Tell me something,” he said. It had been a thing you two did when you started hanging out. It was sort of a confession time; either can say anything you want to say and the other will listen.

“I’m going to miss you so much that the thought of us not being physically next to each other will hurt so bad,” you confessed.

“I’m going to miss you too.”

“Baby, you don’t understand. My heart will completely break once I part ways with you at the airport. I cant handle it, Harry,” your body had completely faced his, and he noticed your eyes were swollen from the lack of sleep and the incoming tears.

“Hey, I know exactly how you feel. You’re not the only one who gets to feel like that,” he said more seriously. “But we’re gonna get through this, okay? We’ll do everything to make sure we make it together,” he had placed a hand on your cheek.

“You want this right?” Your insecurities had gotten in the way and you needed reassurance from him, and Harry knew that and didn’t ever complain to give it to you.

“Of course, baby. Never gave you a reason telling you I didn’t want this, right?” You shook your head, tears had made its way down your face, and Harry had shared the same tears as you. “Then don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” Harry held you to his chest and you both cried in each other’s arms.

The sunrise was as beautiful as ever that morning, screaming for a new beginning as the sun illuminated the sky into an orange and yellow glow. The new beginning was right in your arms as you held him tighter while tears fell down both of your faces, feeling powerful and stronger together as you two poured every emotion and energy into each other.

Harry was your sunrise and your sunset.

You wanted to spend the beginning of every morning with him and have him be the last thing you see before you are pulled into a deep slumber, dreaming of him for hours until you see his face again and make him your reality.

And you both were going to make it.

The ride to the airport was long and filled with silence as words weren’t needed at that time; only the hurt because of the love that was so strong that nothing could come between you two. Not even distance.

You already missed the whole group dearly, and the last dinner with everyone was bittersweet. It was an emotional one as everyone talked about their favorite times and laughed at memories of drunken stories. And at the end, everyone raised a glass.

“To the best group of friends out there.”

“To a talented ass group of artists and writers.”

“To love, laughter, and the pub.”

“To new beginnings, but never endings.”

Everyone cried and hugged each other, making the moment last forever, but it was definitely not the last time.

You slowly walked with Harry, hand in hand as he rolled your luggage, to the area where you both had to part your ways. He had kissed your hand and head multiple times until you stood facing in front of him.

The embrace you two shared was the most gut wrenching feeling you had ever felt in your life, and it felt like your heart was physically breaking along with Harry’s.

Your hearts had always been in sync, beating as fast as the other or filling in beats for one another when one of your hearts had skipped a beat. Being without one another would feel like a missing beat in your hearts, and you needed the other to fulfill it.

“This is not goodbye. It’s never going to be goodbye with you, okay?” Harry’s voice croaked and you nodded, too afraid to speak as tears spilled out of your eyes.

You were breathing deeply, knowing you should go through TSA already as you both were trying to spend every last minute together.

“Tell me something?” Harry had asked one last time in person. You thought hard about it, wanting to make it the best one he’s ever heard.

“I love you, baby.”

He gave you a small and sad smile as more tears formed in his eyes, “I love you too. So much, darling.”

And then you were off.

Harry had watched you walk away until he couldn’t see you anymore before he had sulked back to his dorm, crying all the way back. He felt empty without you beside him. With spending everyday with each other for the past four months, it had felt like a punch to his chest when you had left.

When he had gotten back to his room, he noticed a large square board wrapped in festive wrapping paper with an envelope attached to it.

‘To my lovely Harry,

Thank you for loving with me, laughing with me, and living with me. You’re the best person I’ve ever come to know, so I hope you enjoy this piece that was dedicated to you (and our group of friends). I’m so grateful you’re the person who has my heart.

I love you and miss you so much.

Yours forever.

The tears hadn’t stopped since he saw you leave, and they kept on coming as he opened his present.

Sitting in his hands was your final project along with your paper. It was a painting of his hand holding a heart as blood dripped from it. He noticed it was his hand because of the various rings he wore. The London Eye, Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower, and the pub were at the aorta as a plane curved from around the heart. The background was painted as an orange and yellow color, symbolizing the sunset.

Harry sobbed and hugged your painting to his chest, feeling as if it’s the last thing he has of you for a while. He picked up your paper and read the title.

‘The Power of Being Vulnerable’

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

And so you were sat on a floral blanket, two years later; setting up your lunch, and taking out your sketchbook along with your supplies. You had brought your painting easel, in case it wasn’t going to rain, and you’re glad that you brought it because the weather was just gorgeous enough to paint outside for a while.

Before you went to the park, you had time to make a quick and small charcuterie board that was filled with Brie, prosciutto, crackers, and honey; a snack that would take up your time under the warm sun.

You started sketching your drawing until you felt a familiar pair of lips against your cheek behind you.

“Hi, darling,” his raspy voice that had brought you immediate peace said in your ear. You turned your head, and saw the beautiful smile beaming down at you before sitting down and meeting you at eye level, giving you a kiss to your lips.

“Hi, baby.”

“Sorry I’m late, quite the line at the sandwich shop, but I got your favorite as always.” You smiled after him, thanking him for waiting in that line and for the food.

“It’s okay, practically just sat down a few minutes ago, and set everything up.”

“Okay, good. By the way, you look absolutely beautiful,” he took off his sunglasses to give him a more clear look. You were wearing a dress that complimented your skin tone, making your eyes enticing that he couldn’t help but fall more in love.

“Thank you, my love. You look so handsome,” you complimented back, leaning in to peck his lips. Harry was wearing a plaid button down flannel, black jeans, boots, and a fedora. His hair has grown much longer over the past few years, and you honestly love it. One day, you had told him that he looks like a prince to which you earned a blush.

“Gonna paint, my darling?”

“Yeah. Nice weather out today, so definitely going to.”

“Can’t wait you see what you put together,” Harry smiles, making the dimples that you love so much, pop out.

You and Harry spent the rest of the day together before it was time to head to dinner with the six other people that had changed your life. It was something simple like sitting on top of the same hill you were at two years ago that made your heart flutter. With his head in your lap as he read a book, occasionally stopping to scratch his head and give him a kiss to his forehead, and you sitting upright painting away as he fed you crackers and cheese, you would have never known this is how your life would turn out.

You were extremely grateful for the years you were given to be with Harry and your group of friends that you love so dearly. You were a shy girl, scared of being scared, hardly opened up to anyone.

But that same shy girl blossomed. She blossomed into a beautiful woman who was being praised and treated like the way she should. The man beside her had reminded her every single day that she is a stunning and caring person that deserves the world and more. She eventually started to believe it herself. She began to start seeing herself that way. She woke up and looked in the mirror and started to remind herself that she was beautiful and that she was going to take over the world.

The affirmations had come from opening herself up to people who genuinely cared about her. Because being vulnerable isn’t bad whatsoever.

It allowed you to let go of whatever pain there was inside your heart and leaned onto someone so they could hold your pain as well because you finally weren’t alone. You finally had people who loved you and needed you.

You had opened your heart up all those years ago, and it led you to the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

With two years of loving each other and two years of long distance, you had opened up your heart to the most special man in the world. The constant tears of missing each other from the other side of the world. The need to feel his touch. The tiring plane rides every four months to visit him, until it was his turn to visit you. The care packages. The long FaceTime chats. They all led to the best hugs when you reunited with Harry.

You would travel the world and back if it meant Harry was your destination.

And it was where the world took you that led to your forever.

feedback is appreciated here! <3 also i would love to take blurbs for this and write more about them, so please let me know what you like to read!

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oikawaplssteponme · 4 years

Text

PREVIOUSLY • MASTERLIST

pairing: (prince) Sawamura Daichi x (princess) fem! reader

warnings: none

word count: 1.6k words

synopsis: A childhood lover, a perfect picture, a thoughtful risk, a dashing spark, a resurfaced fling, a beautiful mystery, and an unlikely charmer. With so many flowers in the garden, which do you pick?

a/n: hello loves! i hope you all are doing well :)) reminder that the taglist is still open, just send an ask or leave a comment to be added <3 id love to hear your thoughts and please reblog!! tags have been weird lately so id really appreciate the reblogs :) !

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ: ☾

Nervous

“Good morning Your Grace! Rise and shine!” Anita came bursting into your room. She opened up your bedroom curtains, revealing the burning sunshine. You grabbed one of your pillows and buried your head under it.

“Oh gosh what time is it…” you groaned.

“Time to start getting ready. I’ll have your breakfast brought in momentarily.” Anita left your room just as quickly as she entered it. You removed the pillow from your head and sat up.

“Oh good you’re up.” Your mother, the queen, entered your room, followed by Anita and your breakfast tray.

“Thank you.”

“Eat up sweetheart. You’ll need your energy for today!” said your mother.

“Why must the ball be so late today?” You asked, “and why have you woken me up so early…”

“It’s the Midnight Ball Y/N! It’s tradition whenever the kingdom of Karasuno comes to visit,” she explained. You nodded.

The Prince of Karasuno would be next on your agenda. You had heard nothing but nice things about him. He was known to be responsible, kind, level headed, everything a future king would need to be.

“Your gown for tonight is getting finished up at the tailor’s. I’ll be picking it up in about an hour or so,” explained Anita.

“I’ll join you,” you said as you took a sip from your tea. Your mother shook her head.

“You have much to prepare for here, darling. Anita can take care of it herself.”

“I’ll only be gone for an hour or two. I promise I’ll be back in time,” you insisted.

“Very well… I’ll make sure your ride is prepared.” Your mother patted the top of your head before leaving your room. You looked at Anita, sighing.

“I suppose this is how things will be for a while. A ball every week, a new dress to try on, and someone new to see.”

“You’ll certainly never be bored, Your Highness. I’ll set out your garments for this morning’s trip and meet you outside.” Anita flashed you a bright smile before heading over to your closet, picking out a simple, light pink dress. She laid it on the chair of your vanity before leaving.

You finished your breakfast and got yourself ready then went to meet Anita outside.

“Ready to go, Your Majesty?” she asked. You smiled.

“Anita you know you can call me Y/N, and yes.”

The ride into town was smooth. It was an exceptionally beautiful day, birds chirping, the sun shining. You waved to whoever you saw as people eagerly noticed your arrival.

You arrived at the tailors right on time. It was a dainty shop, filled with endless piles of fabric and designs to fuel anyone's imagination.

“Good morning Your Royal Highness! Here to pick up your gown for tonight’s ball?” asked Mari, the shop owner.

“The Princess is also in need of one final fitting before we can take the gown back to the castle with us,” explained Anita. Mari nodded.

“Yes yes of course! Right this way my darling!”

She led you and Anita to where the mannequin stood, wearing the dress.

“Wow…”

It was an extravagant gown, black as the midnight sky. The sunlight peeking in from the windows bounced off of the small crystals, making it sparkle. It lastly had a matching cape, since the ball would take place at night.

“Mari you never disappoint, it is truly gorgeous,” you said.

“Oh thank you Princess. Here, let's get you laced up.”

The dress fit you perfectly as expected. It’s sweetheart neckline and floral detail looked stunning on you. Mari packaged up your dress as you waited with Anita.

“We actually have one last stop before we can head back,” she explained.

“Where?” you asked. Anita smiled.

“It seems that your prince has a gift for you.”

You and Anita walked along the streets of town until reaching the flower shop. You breathed in the scents of gardenias and lilies.

“Pick up for Y/N L/N,” explained Anita to the front desk attendant. They scurried off to the back cooler and brought out the biggest arrangement of flowers you had ever seen.

“Oh wow…”

It was a mix of orange and black roses, with a small card peaking out.

‘Until tonight Princess… -D.S.’

“D.S.?” you questioned. Anita chuckled.

“It’s from Prince Sawamura Daichi, Your Majesty.”

“He certainly knows how to make a girl smile,” you whispered.

“He’s perfect…” gushed Anita. You chuckled.

“We’ll see about that…”

As the day drew on, you found yourself back at home. You were finally getting ready for the ball, that started in just a few hours. You showered and wrapped yourself up in your silk robe. You walked into your room, where Anita was laying out your dress.

“Anita what do you know about Sawamura Daichi?” you asked. She chuckled nervously.

“Well I don’t know too much...but I know that he is a great leader with a kind heart. He puts others before himself and is devoted to helping others. Anyone would be lucky to have a heart like his.”

“It seems like you know more than you think,” you teased. Anita shook her head.

“Oh my apologies. Here, let's get you laced up.”

Anita cinched you up into your gown. She did your makeup and clipped on your cape.

“Stunning as always,” she smiled.

“Thank you. Shall we go?”

The garden was marvelously decorated with lights and lanterns. There was a grand fountain in the middle of it all, the floor a checkered pattern . The full moon shined above you, making the moonlight bounce off of your gown. You greeted people as they approached you, keeping one eye out for the Prince.

“Excuse me, You Grace?”

You turned around to see a man smiling at you with grey hair.

“Yes?”

“Princess Y/N L/N, I am pleased to introduce you to the marvelous, chivalrous, most handsome-”

“That’s enough Sugawara…”

“Oh right...Prince Sawamura Daichi, Your Majesty.” He moved out of the way, allowing the prince to step forward.

“My apologies, he tends to get carried away,” smiled Daichi. You chuckled.

“I actually liked your introduction,” you teased.

“I’m glad. Would you care to dance?” Sawamura pointed to the dance floor. You nodded.

“I would love to.”

You took his hand and he guided you to the floor, He bowed before you, then placed his hand onto your waist and held up your other hand.

“Thank you for the flowers,” you said. Daichi smiled.

“I’m glad they found you well. I wasn’t sure which flowers were your favorite so I decided to play it safe with roses.”

“I do love roses.”

“Do you have a favorite flower?”

“Not particularly. I love the assortment bouquets, that way I get a little of everything,” you explained.

“I see.”

Daichi spun you around the floor, keeping you close to you. His eyes almost as dark as the midnight sky, you could’ve fallen into them. As your hand rested on his bicep, you could tell just how strong he was. His strong build but gentle smile warmed your heart.

You watched as what looked to be a sweat droplet glided down the side of his forehead. You chuckled.

“Are you nervous?” you asked. Sawamura tilted his head.

“Nervous? What makes you say that?”

“It looks like you’re sweating.”

Daichi patted his forehead with the back of his hand. He smiled.

“That’s not sweat princess, that’s rain.”

The two of you looked up at the sky, seeing the clouds rolling over you. You closed your eyes, starting to feel the soft water trickle down upon you.

“Everyone inside!” shouted the king. People began to rush over to the doors, hiding under the walkway.

“Y/N, darling, you’re gonna get sick!” insisted your mother. As you soon became drenched by the rain, you looked to Daichi, who held onto your hand.

“I have a dance to finish,” you smiled. Daichi grinned, placing his hand back onto your waist and once again, guided you along the dance floor.

It was just the two of you, dazzling under the stormy moonlight. As lightning struck and thunder boomed, you kept your eyes on Sawamura. How he made you laugh, calling you reckless for proposing this idea. Even as the floor became even more slippery, you and Daichi didn’t stop. Soon, the orchestra came back, playing for you. Drums sounding along with the sound of thunder, causing goosebumps on your skin.

The two of you caught your breath, panting as water droplets dripped down your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping you balanced. Without realizing it, yours and Sawamura’s foreheads were pressed against each other. Daichi locked eyes with you, placing his hand under your chin.

“I think it’s safe to say that you took my breath away.”

The two of you went inside the palace a short time later. Anita brought you both towels to dry yourselves off.

You now sat with the prince on the grand staircase. The two of you talked about all kinds of things. He told you about Karasuno, you told him about what there was to do around your kingdom. He listened happily to every word you had to say.

“You’ll have to show me around soon, I didn’t get to explore much today,” he said. You nodded.

“I would love to do that.”

“Excuse me, Your Highness, we must be going.”

You looked over to the man who entered with the prince earlier. You sighed, almost wishing he didn't have to leave.

“Very well, just one moment please.”

Daichi stood up from the steps. He helped you up as well.

“It was such a pleasure meeting you Y/N. I wish we didn’t have to part so soon,” he smiled.

“As do I. I hope you have safe travels, and the next time you’re here I will happily show you around.” Daichi smiled.

“I would love that.”

He carefully took your hand, kissing the top of it. He took his soaked suit jack and draped it over his shoulder before joining Sugawara. You sighed.

“He really is perfect.”

•

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#willow.🌸#decisions.🌸#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq #daichi x you #daichi x y/n #haikyuu!!#daichi x reader #daichi scenario #hq daichi #daichi fluff #sawamura daichi #Sawamura daichi x reader #Sawamura daichi x you #haikyuu fic

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thefinalcinderella · 3 years

Text

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 8 - Winter Comes Again (Part 5)

Hakone finally starts in the next chapter, which is like, 80 pages long

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. Kamaboko is a type of fish cake and Odawara is well known for its high quality Kamaboko

2. Zouni is a type of soup that contains rice cakes and is usually eaten on New Year’s Day

Previous | Next

That night, Kiyose was planning to explain the Hakone Ekiden entries as well as hold a drinking party. After training and jogging, the residents gathered one after another in the twins’ room.

Kiyose had gone off somewhere after training. Nico-chan and Jouta were in charge of cooking; they were probably making something to serve as an accompaniment to the drinks. Thinking he should help, Kakeru was just about to leave the twins’ room and go down to the kitchen when his phone rang. It was his home phone number in Sendai.

His parents hadn’t contacted him once since he had moved to Tokyo. He had sent them a postcard with Chikusei-sou’s address, but that was it; just transferring the money for school fees and minimal living expenses into his bank account was enough for him. His parents had wanted him to go to university on a track recommendation because they had had high hopes for their son as a well-mannered track athlete.

When he pressed the button to answer the call, he heard the nostalgic voice of his mother say, “Kakeru?”

“Mm.”

“You were written up in a magazine, weren’t you? We told you so many times not to do anything that would make you stand out. Your father is very angry with you. Are you listening?”

“Mm, sorry.”

“Please put yourself in our shoes, living here. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing for the New Year’s holiday? Are you coming back?”

“No, I’m going to be in Hakone, so I don’t think I have time to come home.”

“Ah, yes,” his mother’s voice took on a distinct note of relief. “Okay, then. Take care.”

Clutching his now-silent phone, Kakeru stood in the middle of the stairs for a while. In a daze, he belatedly noticed Yuki’s presence at the door.

“Oh, sorry,” Yuki said. “I didn’t intend to eavesdrop.”

Yuki was holding a bag from a record store in Shimokitazawa. No matter how busy he got, he never lacked music in his life. “No problem,” Kakeru answered, and walked down the stairs to stand in the hallway with him.

“Was that a call from home?”

“Yes. They got angry at me for standing out.”

“You’re the man of the hour, after all,” Yuki laughed. If it was Yuki, he might be able to tell him—Yuki was so far the only one not happy about being interviewed. He wanted someone to hear out his painful feelings, so Kakeru deliberately confided in him as though it was no big deal.

“I don’t get along well with my parents.”

Yuki was silent for a minute.

“I see. It’s the same for me,” he said. “In my case, I guess you can call it being overprotective. My mom remarried. The guy’s not a bad person, and I have a little sister who’s a lot younger than me, and she’s pretty cute, I guess, but… It bothers me when I’m told 'we’re your new family now' and get fussed over a lot. To be honest, I don’t want to get too close to them.”

“How old is your little sister?”

“Five.”

“Eh, so she’s more than fifteen years younger than you, Yuki-senpai?”

“Yeah. My mom’s doing her best,” Yuki pushed his glasses up as though to say, Good grief. “It’s a given that family members would bother you. You have to not expect too much from them and keep a reasonable distance.”

Yuki walked towards his room—it seemed that he had given his advice. “Okay,” Kakeru answered, and then went to peek in the kitchen, which had been noisy with the sound of running water and pots falling from a short time ago. Then, Yuki returned to the hallway.

“That’s right, Kakeru,” he said. He beckoned him to a corner of the hallway. “When I was coming back, I saw Haiji at Seijo Station.”

Is he doing some shopping? Although it was a station where express trains stopped, Kakeru and the others didn’t go to Seijou that often. If anything, they usually went to Soshigaya-Okura Station, which had a folksy and mixed atmosphere.

“He went into an orthopedics clinic in front of Seijo Station.”

Kakeru jerked in surprise. There was an old scar on Kiyose’s right shin; even after the qualifiers, he had looked like he was having a hard time. Kakeru had completely forgotten about it in the commotion of training and interviews.

“I don’t know much about the injuries of track athletes.” Yuki knitted his brows. “But maybe Kiyose’s isn’t completely healed.”

In any sport, the best athletes all had some sort of injury, and track and field was no exception. Hard training and risk had always gone hand in hand with each other—the more you trained, the sharper and more delicate your body became.

“If he’s seeing a doctor, they’ll stop him if he gets too reckless, so that actually makes me relieved, but…”

“Would Haiji listen to the doctor? Especially at this time.”

That’s true, Kakeru thought. The fact that he had gone to the doctor meant that he must be feeling some kind of discomfort, maybe even distinct pain. Even if he requested a prescription to suppress the pain, Kakeru had a feeling that Kiyose would not listen to the doctor’s advice.

“I understand. I’ll ask Haiji-san later,” Kakeru assured Yuki.

Kiyose returned to Chikusei-sou before they knew it. Kakeru carefully twitched his nose around Kiyose to see if he could smell a poultice, but he couldn’t find any evidence.

“You’re a strange guy.”

That was all Kiyose said to him.

“There’s been a lot going on lately,” Kiyose said, looking around at everyone gathered in the twins’ room. “Well, don’t worry about it. We’ll get our answers through our running.”

“Haiji-san, you’re so cool!”

“’What do you want with our Kurahara?’”

The twins, who had already been drinking, made fun of him. Ever since the incident with the Shinjitsu Weekly reporter, the twins seemed to have recovered their trust in Kiyose.

“The month of November is finally coming to an end. There’s no time left until the Hakone Ekiden,” Kiyose continued, ignoring the twins. “From now on, taking care of your physical condition will be the most important thing; be careful not to get injured at the last minute.”

At the word “injured,” Kakeru couldn’t help but exchange a glance with Yuki.

“Kakeru, explain the entries for Hakone,” Kiyose said, and Kakeru shook off his worries for now. The gazes of the residents, sitting in a circle, were focused on him.

“The first step is to submit the names of up to sixteen people per team to the organizer on December 10,” Kakeru began to explain. “At this stage, who will run which leg will not be revealed. Next, on December 29, it will be the leg entry, where the sixteen runners will be narrowed down to fourteen, and ten of those people will declare which leg they are running. The remaining four will be treated as alternates. Changes in leg entries are allowed on the day of the Hakone Ekiden. The final runners will be announced before the start times of the outward and return trips. However, once a runner is removed from a leg, they cannot be entered into another leg.”

“I don’t get it. What does that mean?” Jouji asked.

Kakeru thought about it a little, then simplified it. “Suppose Rokudou’s Fujioka was entered into the second leg on December 29. This means that Fujioka cannot be assigned the fifth leg in the final entry change on the day of Hakone. If Fujioka isn’t feeling well on the first day, they have no choice but to put one of the four alternates in the second leg, and even if Fujioka recovers on the second day, he wouldn’t be allowed to run.”

“I see.” Musa nodded. “Conversely, if Fujioka-san is one of the four alternates, can we assume that Rokudou will change its entry on the day of Hakone?”

“That’s exactly right,” Kiyose said. “If there’s a strong competitor in the alternate slot, then they are either not feeling well or they plan on changing the entry of an important leg on the morning of the race as a secret weapon. After seeing the entries for each leg on the 29th, each university will consider its strategy and, trying to read their opponent’s mind, unfold a new strategy.”

“We can’t lose focus even right before the start, can we?” King seemed to feel pressured. “But we only have ten people, so that’s got nothing to do with us. We don’t have strategies or anything.”

“It’s true that we will be showing all our cards on the 29th.”

Feeling uneasy, Kakeru looked at Kiyose; Kansei had no alternates, and once they made their entries, it wouldn’t be possible to switch legs. He wanted to know what Kiyose thought about that.

“We’re not the only ones with a small lineup,” Kiyose said calmly. “Changing your entry on the day of the race can be a good or bad thing. After all, sometimes it won’t go well when you’re suddenly asked to run. In fact, there are many schools that have a policy of not changing the leg entries unless there is a serious problem. Knowing that there’s strategy regarding the entries, it’s better to know early on which leg you’re running so that you can prepare.”

“Haiji, have you already decided which legs we’re going to run?” Yuki asked.

“Yeah,” Kiyose said and straightened his posture. “Of course, if you have any objections, we can discuss it, but I think this is the best we can do for now.”

Kiyose took out a memo from his track pants and laid it out in the center of the circle. Everyone leaned in to take a look and let out cries of surprise.

Hakone Outward Journey (Day 1)

First Leg Otemachi to Tsurumi Prince

Second Leg Tsurumi to Totsuka Musa

Third Leg Totsuka to Hiratsuka Jouta

Fourth Leg Hiratsuka to Odawara Jouji

Fifth Leg Odawara to Hakone Shindou

Hakone Return Journey (Day 2)

Sixth Leg Hakone to Odawara Yuki

Seventh Leg Odawara to Hiratsuka Nico-chan

Eighth Leg Hiratsuka to Totsuka King

Ninth Leg Totsuka to Tsurumi Kakeru

Tenth Leg Tsurumi to Otemachi Kiyose

“Me in the second leg? I cannot do it.” Musa was trembling all over. “The second leg is the section for the aces, yes? Why is it not Kakeru then?”

“It’s pretty bold to put Prince-san in the first leg…” Jouji reservedly tilted his head.

Even Prince muttered, “What are you doing throwing the race from the start?”

Kakeru immediately understood what Kiyose was trying to do when he saw the lineup he had planned. Haiji-san is going to try to win the race in the second half. He’s seriously aiming for us to get seeded. No, if the race goes the way Haiji-san thinks it will, it won’t be about seeding—with these placements, we can aim for a much better ranking…!

They were such a weak club that they were in danger of not surviving next year. They were just a bunch of amateurs that had finally managed to crawl up this far, but Kiyose didn’t know the meaning of giving up; he was always looking upward, holding up dreams and goals, and firmly leading the residents of Chikusei-sou. Aiming for the heights of running. Aiming to reach the top of the Hakone Ekiden—the ultimate intermediary between individual and team competitions.

Seeing from the entry form how serious Kiyose was, Kakeru clenched his fists. If he hadn't, he would have gotten so excited that he would have ended up looking like an animal.

“Prince is the only one for the first leg,” Kiyose said gently. “Maybe it’s because you don't have any interest in the 3D world, but you’ve never been scared at the meets or qualifiers; you’re the most suitable person for the first leg, which has the most attention focused on it. You’re also tough enough to have kept up with the training until now even with your very slow times. I’m sure you’ll be able to hold your own in the race.”

He casually said something rude again, Kakeru thought, but Kiyose wasn’t lying about his expectations. Prince must have felt that as well, and a light came into his eyes.

“But in these past few years, the first leg has often been fast paced.” Yuki asked a question based on the data he had collected: “This time too, won’t each school choose a runner for the first leg based on speed?”

“There’s also a chance that it’ll develop at a slow pace in reaction to that. That’s a gamble,” Kiyose readily admitted. “But even if Prince gets separated from the others, he can still make up for it in the first leg. That’s why I chose a solid group of runners for the second to fourth legs, and there’s no one but Shindou who could do the fifth leg’s mountain climb, right? Musa and the twins should be able to steadily make it there.”

“It is too much for me to run in the ace’s leg.” Musa didn’t seem convinced.

“What do you think?” Kiyose turned to Kakeru. “Musa seems to want you to run the second leg.”

“No. I think Musa-san is the perfect fit for it,” Kakeru said with conviction. “Musa-san has been training while pushing aside all sorts of pressures. Even though he never did long-distance before, he can now run ten kilometers in the low 29-minute range. And Musa-san has always encouraged me.”

His effort and personality were second to none. Musa was an ace among aces.

“You are giving me too much credit, Kakeru,” Musa said, embarrassed. But it was unanimously decided that he would run the second leg.

There were no objections to the twins running the third and fourth legs, and they were very enthusiastic about it.

“The third leg is a road that runs along the sea. The scenery’s really nice,” said Jouta.

“Can we buy some kamaboko (1) in Odawara?” said Jouji.

The fifth leg was good with Shindou, but the problem was the sixth leg, which was Yuki’s mountain descent.

“Why am I doing the sixth leg?” Yuki asked Kiyose, looking for an explanation.

“On the trial run the other day, your posture was very stable. Normally, when people run down a steep slope like that, they’d be bent forward,” Kiyose glanced at Yuki’s legs, which were in a cross-legged position. “Also…you have thick legs.”

“What?”

“No, it was a compliment. Anyways, if your legs and loins aren’t solid, the sixth leg is out of the question.”

“It’s like sturdiness is my only good point. You say that, but what would you do if I get hurt?”

“It’s fine, isn’t it? You already passed the bar. You won’t have any opportunities to do serious track and field after graduation.”

“Oi oi, that’s irresponsible and cruel…” Nico-chan said, but Yuki was surprisingly calm and said, “You have a point,” accepting Kiyose’s words. If it made sense, he would swallow any cool-headed opinion. It was a method of persuasion that perfectly grasped Yuki’s character, and Kakeru was once again in awe of Kiyose’s ability to manipulate people.

“About Nico-chan-senpai in the seventh leg and King in the eighth leg,” Kiyose continued, “I think that when you get to this part of the route, the runners will start to break up, and there will be times when you’re running by yourself. You won’t be able to see the runners from the other teams in front or behind you. Even in situations like those, both of you will be able to run at your own pace without panicking or becoming careless. The battle to get seeded will intensify, so this is an unassuming but important section.”

“Are we planning on getting seeded?” Jouji nervously asked.

“Of course,” Kiyose decisively stated. “Now, for the last two legs, I entered Kakeru into the ninth leg, which is also called the ace leg of the return trip. As for the anchor, the tenth leg, I’ll be the one responsible for it, as I was the one who said we’re going to the Hakone Ekiden and got you guys involved.”

Kiyose only gave a brief explanation for himself and Kakeru. However, Kakeru thoroughly sensed Kiyose’s feelings for the Hakone Ekiden, and he also knew what kind of running they would have to show in the ninth and tenth legs.

Kakeru looked at Kiyose. Kiyose was silent, then nodded at him.

“That’s all. Are there any questions or thoughts?”

No one raised their hand. Pulled along by Kiyose’s conviction, everyone was finally thinking about the Hakone Ekiden as something concrete, and their fighting spirit was rising.

“Okay. Until the announcement of the entries for the legs on the 29th, what I told you is of course confidential. I want each of you to do your own image training and study the leg you’ll be running.”

Kiyose picked up his cup full of alcohol and said, Let’s drink. “With this team, it’ll definitely turn out well. Twins.”

Jouta and Jouji looked up when they were called.

“I’ll show you the top. No, we’re going to experience it together. Look forward to it.”

Kiyose smiled like a fearless king.

After the drinking party had reached its climax, Kakeru quietly approached Kiyose.

“Haiji-san, your legs aren’t doing well, are they?”

“Why do you ask?” Kiyose gently countered and poured himself another drink. Kakeru was at a loss for words—there was no way Kiyose was going to complain, however doubts swirled in Kakeru’s chest.

Haiji-san told Yuki-senpai, “You won’t have any opportunities to do serious track and field after graduation.” Isn’t he really talking about himself? Isn’t he going into this Hakone Ekiden with the resolve that he’s not going to be able to run anymore?

He was scared just thinking about it. Not being able to run was the same as dying for Kakeru. He believed it was the same for Kiyose. And yet, he…

“There’s nothing like what you’re worried about.” Kiyose smiled and spoke, “Come on, you drink too.”

Kakeru couldn’t say anything and drank the alcohol Kiyose served him in one go, full of anxiety. Kiyose was wearing that padded kimono jacket with the frayed cuffs. Soon, Kakeru would have spent all four seasons with the residents of Chikusei-sou.

Kakeru recalled the night he met Kiyose for the first time—the night when everything started.

A strange feeling like nostalgia and longing sprouted in his chest.

---

The residents of Chikusei-sou continued to train wholeheartedly even into December and had a quiet New Year’s Eve together in their rundown apartment.

On New Year’s Eve, they went to a nearby shrine to ring the temple bell, and on New Year’s Day, they ate zouni made by Kiyose. (2)

The tension was building minute by minute, but even that felt good. It was because he wasn’t alone; in Chikusei-sou, Kakeru could feel the presence of the people he had been training and living with.

He wasn’t alone—until he started running.

He had comrades who were always, always, waiting for him to start running, to finish running and to come home.

The ekiden was that sort of sport.

---

At last, it was January 2.

The Hakone Ekiden began.

It was the end of the year-long battle the ten of them had been engaged in. At the same time, it was the beginning of the first and last fierce battle of the ten, which would be handed down as long as there was a Hakone Ekiden.

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#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kazetsuyo translations #run with the wind

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