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sorrow-already-spoiled · 2 years

Text

Champion of the Bloodied Sands: Gladiator AU

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pbxqmVA-N9c&ab_channel=Apollo

Perhaps this will get expanded on later, but for now, here it is! Only a week late…. Anyways… Someone talk to me about this Ancient Greek/Gladiator AU perhaps????

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Blood and sweat and sand: these were the realities that made up Umbra’s life. He wore no chains, but he had met slaves who enjoyed much more freedom than he did. No matter.

There was only the fight. There was only blood.

A voice boomed over the raucous crowd, amplified by some strange ungodly magic.

“Let the fight begin!”

The young girl across the arena from Umbra began to charge towards him. It would be so easy. Shift left and break the attack against his shield, a single swing of his sword to decapitate her while her body still moved believing itself to be whole and alive.

But his master hated when he ended things too quickly. There was not nearly as much money to be made on a fight that was over immediately. There is no entertainment value in a clean kill.

Umbra caught the tip of the oncoming spear against the flat of his shield easily deflecting it upwards towards the sky. He shoved the palm of his hand against the girl’s breastplate, pushing her backwards. The girl looked young, green. Certainly not someone who should have any place in a fight against the reigning champion of the colosseum.

The girl hissed as she staggered backwards, a pitiful look of determination in her eyes. He readied his sword, parrying her next spear thrust with ease, rolling forward to swipe at the backs of her knees with the flat of his sword. The girl stumbled forwards away from it just in time to avoid being knocked to the ground. She spun her spear around with surprising dexterity, thrusting it towards the weak point where his pauldrons met the breast plate. He dropped his sword and raised his arm, twisting to catch the shaft of the spear in his palm. He brought his shield forward to smash against her face causing her to lose her grip on the spear and stagger backwards.

Umbra slammed the point of the spear into the sandy ground, crouching to retrieve his sword as the girl shook her head to clear it. Umbra could feel his heartbeat. It thrummed in his ears like a war drum, the rhythmic pulse keeping time as it seemed to slow around him. His breathing was steady. There was nothing but this: the fight. The crowd’s cheering was distant and silent. There was only blood in the pit.

The girl drew a long handled dagger from her boot, her arm moving into a throwing position. He dropped his shield, moving towards her assiduously with his sword low at his side. Her arm drew back, wrist flexing as the blade flew towards his chest in a perfect arc. He raised his sword to knock the dagger of course, its steel blade landing harmlessly in the sand.

He advanced to the girl, his gloved hand grabbing her around the throat and lifting her off the ground just enough that her toes struggled to reach solid ground. Her hands came up instinctively to pry at his fingers but she was unable to do so.

“What’s your name?” The girl looked startled at Umbra’s words.

“Aerilyn.” the girl gasped out. Umbra nodded.

“I’ll remember it.” the blade of his sword sunk deep into Aerilyn’s heart. The sound of the crowd cheering was still not enough to drown out the gurgling sound of blood escaping her chest cavity. It soaked the sands beneath her limp form, staining them a deep crimson that would soon darken to a muted brown. There was no room for empathy, or kindness here. A quick death is the best Umbra could do for her.

Once bathed, he was draped in black linens and painted lines of gold adorned his skin. There was never a shortage of people willing to celebrate the most recent victory with the master, and had no choice but to attend.

The servants positioned him on a pedestal, as if he were a living statue. All through the evening he held his position even as the guests' eyes bore into him, their food-greased fingers smearing the precise golden lines of paint.

It was nearing the end of the night when he spotted the woman. She had burning red hair, and was dressed in white, with coils of braided gold encircling her upper arms. A golden crown of laurels sat in her hair. Her name was Lewellyn V’lain, and she was his master’s new wife.

She was half the master’s age, a beautiful young thing to bring the master joy as his life stretched out before him. The crowd seemed to part for her as she moved to the master’s side, linking her arm through his and smiling up at him. It made Umbra sick to think of that poor girl’s naivety. His master would tear her to shreds, and she would be helpless to stop it. She would simply have to endure the endless pain that you never grow numb to.

The master looked down at her with his usual wide grin, pulling her into his side before returning to his conversation. Lewellyn’s gaze swept across the room, falling and lingering on Umbra.

Umbra dropped his gaze to the floor when she looked at him. It was impolite to stare at a lady, particularly this one. A few moments later a white linen and polished leather sandals entered his field of view.

“Good evening champion. Would you do me the honor of raising your gaze? I wish to see your eyes.” Umbra did as she bade, in no position to refuse her request. She hummed knowingly, as if confirming what she knew to be true. Her voice dropped to a murmur, meant just for the two of them. “Those are not the eyes of a monster, Umbra, servant of Thanatos, champion of the bloodied sands, and bringer of death.”

“I am whatever my master requires, my Lady. If that be a monster, then a monster I shall be.” His soul was already doomed for Decideratus either way.

“So if Malice begged you to fetch him olives from the finest merchant in the Capital?”

“I would do so with haste.”

“If you were asked to protect him?”

“I would do so with my life.”

“If he asked you to kill?”

“I have done so many times.”

“Outside of the colosseum, I mean.” The lady’s face had not changed, a gentle expression in her eyes, an innocence to her face.

“I would do so. If I was asked.” Her lips curled into a soft smile.

“I am relieved to hear that my husband has such a devoted servant. He is very lucky to have you in his service, Umbra of the Crimson Sands. Any nobleman would be blessed by the gods to be so fortunate as to have you.” Her fingers drifted out towards him, running across one of the lines of gold decorating his bicep. The paint stained the tips of her fingers metallic, and the near line across his skin became merely a blur of color. Umbra felt a surge of worry as she looked down at her fingers with an unreadable expression. Servant or not, his master’s lady had just touched another man. Such an act could be punishable by beating, or death if the husband so chose. She really was naive. She would get herself killed.

“My lady, you should not have done that.” She simply hummed in response.

“Perhaps not. But I did.” with that, she moved behind him, out of view. He did not see her for the rest of the night, though he saw his master leave mere moments after the lady, and Umbra forced his heart to harden so as not to pity her.

Umbra gained three more victories in the sands following that night, and endured three more parties painted in gold, dressed in black. This evening, he stood at the doorway of his master’s private study, a silent guard stationed at the doorway as the master scratched incomprehensible lines on neat sheets of parchment. He would have preferred the sands.

The oikos was carved from out of the side of Mount Ethos, overlooking the city of Strathem, the Coliseum visible even from this height. Beautifully carved pillars with open gaps between them were draped with delicate sheer white fabrics that blew gently in the warm breeze.

“Malice, are you in here?” The lady’s voice drifted down a hallway, and Umbra had to fight to keep his face as neutral as ever. She still lived then. When she had not appeared at the victory celebrations he had assumed the worst. She breezed into the room, her gown one of deep emerald this time, offsetting the gold wrapped around her arms. She did not acknowledge Umbra’s presence in the room. She looked unharmed, though there were any number of ways that the master could have punished her unfaithful behavior. “I should have known. You are always here if you are not at the Coliseum.”Malice simply hummed in response.

The lady drifted about the room, taking in the lavish decor and the view of the city below before her gaze fell upon a Petteia game board.

“What is this?” Malice glanced up at her question.

“Petteia. It's a game I played often when I served in the Phalanx.”

“I like games.” The lady retrieved two cups and a pitcher of wine from a nearby table. “Come, play a round with me.” She arranged herself on a chaise as Malice joined her at the small table.

“I think perhaps you will find it rather unlike games typically played by ladies. Slower pace, but faster thought.” Malice seated himself across from her. “Traditionally, this game is bet upon in the phalanx. Used for trade, for influence, extra food or warmth. Whatever is considered a luxury at the time. Lewellyn smiled, delighted.

“We must not break from tradition then. If I win… I want a gift.”

“Of course, my dear.”

“You swear it?”

“I swear it.” The lady’s lips became a pout.

“Swear it to the gods, for them all to hear. You’ll give me what I want.” Malice’s grin grew, and he took another long sip of wine.

“I swear it to the gods. If you should win our little game, I shall grant you one thing that you desire, so long as it is mine to give or in my power to do so. And if it is I who wins, I would ask the same of you.” Malice’s grin grew, and Lewellyn poured his glass full. The look on the master’s face showed no worry, as was to be expected. Petteia was a game of military strategy, cleverly hidden behind simple pebbles on a board. The master did not lose at games of strategy. Lady Lewellyn smiled mischievously, pouring and taking a sip of her own wine.

“I find your terms to be acceptable. Now, explain to me the pieces and movements.” She gestured to the board between them. Umbra could do nothing but watch as his master explained the movements of the game, the rules and conditions. Lewellyn’s body language was relaxed, perhaps aided too much by the wine. Her expression was hazy, sleepy, as if she were only half listening to Malice’s words, and instead just listening to his voice.

The game began quite simply, but drew out over the next hour. The master appeared calm and amused as always, though the hesitation before his moves were indicative of his investment. Lewellyn seemed to be moving pieces at random in her drunkenness, and Malice was struggling to manage his own pieces in response to hers. The final piece was Lewellyn’s to claim, and her smile filled with childlike wonder.

“Does this mean that I won?” Malice’s smile grew tight.

“Indeed, my dear. Quite impressive. The prize is yours to claim. Make your request.” Lewellyn sat forward in her chaise, her shoulders squaring, the sleepy-sweet drunkenness disappearing in an instant. The look in her eyes sharpened and Umbra realized that her bet had been a calculated maneuver in the same way each move of the Petteia board had been.

“I request a servant, a protector for myself.”

“Is that all? I could have granted you such without such a bargain, dear wife. I shall choose someone suitable–” Lewellyn cut Malice off.

“I wish for a specific one. One that any nobleman would be blessed by the gods to possess.” Her eyes drifted to Umbra, who thought he had been forgotten where he stood vigil beside the door, before returning to look at Malice. “I want your champion.”

It had been sworn upon to the gods, and so Umbra fell into the care of Lady Lewellyn. It would be much later that Umbra realized that Lewellyn was no saint, and he had simply traded one monster for another. At least in the sands, the blood he had drawn had been honorable.

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your-daily-biaswrecking · 3 years

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Hello! can you do a scenario with fem!reader and father's best friend!namjoon? I totally understand if this is a concept you're uncomfortable with. All the armys are going crazy with the dilf!bts concept so I need to have this 😭

Tbh that's a hard concept (like absolutely don't do this irl y'all plss it's not okay if it's not fiction– go in the notes to read my PSA pls) so I had to write a bit of plot at the beginning just because I wanted to make it as less weird as possible lol

Namjoon wasn't the type of family friend you got to see a lot growing up. He was, however, the type of friend you got to hear about a lot. Your dad had spent his high school years being in a band that never really had its break, and Namjoon had apparently been the youngest member and your father's favourite. He kept talking about how he "raised" him, meaning he helped him get his first kiss and taught him about girls. Then your dad got your mum pregnant right after graduating, and they both decided to move to the US to find a job and start their family. Your family. And so your dad lost touch with his best friend.

He talked about him quite often, and you knew he had even visited once when you were still too young to have a memory of it. You had only ever seen a couple of pictures of them together; Namjoon looked like a very cringy 13-year-old with a terrible haircut. Not that your dad as a teenager looked any better. But that's beside the point. It doesn't matter what he looked like back then, today you probably wouldn't be able to even recognize him even if he passed you on the street.

"Did I tell you? My best friend moved here from Korea! The band kids are back together!"

Namjoon came back into your father's life at around the same time as you left it– moved away for college. And you kept getting all these updates on how great it was that they found each other again, how many things they did together and in general how happy your dad was. When you visited home for Christmas, Namjoon was away so you didn't run into him. And almost a year after he had moved there, you would finally meet him during the summer. Your father invited him for dinner one hot evening in July.

You opened the door to find him standing outside, your mother just a step behind to greet him. “Joonie! So glad you could make it. Come on in, come on in... Ah! As you know, this is our daughter.”

The man was tall and handsome, nothing like the pictures you had seen. And familiar. His eyes met yours and he smiled, making your blood run cold— you had seen that man before. Not even a week ago, staring at you at the bar while sipping his whiskey until you decided he was too hot and couldn’t be older than 30, so you walked up to him and gave him a napkin with your number and a lipstick stain of a kiss on it. He never called.

“Wow,” Namjoon said without his tone matching his words. “She has grown up so much.” And he looked you up and down again, checking you out kind of like he had done that night. Your entire face was burning, turning on your heels to get away. What the fuck kind of luck was that? He was your dad's friend? You hoped– you begged that he didn't recognize you. He wasn't saying anything, though his eyes kept on stealing looks, and so you thought you might have had a close escape. Until you run into each other in the kitchen. Alone. "Come here, young lady," he said in a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. You already felt like you were in trouble. "Does your father know you go around giving your number to men almost twice your age?"

He was so close, eyes travelling lazily down your form with a smirk on his lips. "No," you choked. "I– I don't– You were staring at me, that's why I thought..."

"I was staring at you because I was trying to figure out if you were my best friend's daughter."

Hearing him say the words made your cheeks burn. Defeat. He had a logical excuse and all you had was that he was a little too much your type. And he sounded like he was scolding you, reminding you of your place. You lowered your head, really wanting to get out. "Please don't tell him."

Don't tell him I hit on you. Don't tell him I wanted to fuck you.

Namjoon didn't reply right away, but late that night you got a text from an unknown number. "I won't tell him anything."

He won't tell him anything. Perhaps that could be applied to what had already happened, or what would happen in the future.

You didn't text frequently, but you did nonetheless. And even though you were sure both of you would say they were simple, innocent texts, how innocent could they really be when the man already knew how you felt about him? Maybe you were crazy, but you thought he might like you too. Maybe he liked the fact that you liked him. It wasn't evident in anything he did or say, just the vibes you got from him those days he visited your house, or the way he looked at you when you were left alone for a second. The summer passed by so fast when every other day you met your father's best friend in one way or another.

When it was time for you to move back to the city where you attended college, Namjoon just so happened to be going there for some work too. And your parents were grateful that you had someone to travel with. The car ride was long and mostly silent. You had never been left alone for so long and suddenly you realised how hard it was to keep a conversation going without talking about how horny he made you feel just by being in the same, tight space with you. But the farther away you got from home, the less you cared about keeping your good reputation up.

"Where will you sleep tonight?" you asked him after he helped drop off all your stuff at your apartment late that night and was already at the door, ready to leave.

"I'll find a hotel," he told you, hand still on the door handle.

"You can stay here if you want to."

"Don't–" His plea was soft-spoken, in contrast to the intense way his eyes were piercing yours.

"Don't what?" you acted dumb. "All I'm saying is I'm sure dad would rather you stay instead of paying for a room. You're like family, anyway."

You noticed how he took in a deep breath, grip around the knob getting harder. "Don't bring him into this."

Saying that you two shouldn't mention your father was like admitting what was going on right now was beyond innocent. And even though your stomach clenched at his harsh tone, you bowed your head and whispered. "I'm sorry."

"This is so wrong," you heard him call loudly all of a sudden, making you look back at him. He was chewing on his lip desperately. "I was there when your dad got your mom pregnant. Do you know what I said? Fuck, man, how are you gonna get out of this bullshit? I shouldn’t be…"

You blinked at him, waiting to hear the end of the sentence. "Shouldn't be what?" You weren't gonna let him slip away that easily. You would push him until he had to say what he wanted to say. It was your only chance, anyway.

Namjoon sighed. He pushed the door closed and walked up to you steadily all while he was staring straight into your eyes. "Why did you give me your number that night?"

Your breathing was already getting heavier. You wouldn't back away. What was the point? He knew already. "Because you were hot. And I wanted you to fuck me."

He chewed his lip for a few seconds, watching your face as he contemplated his next words. "Why do you want me to stay over tonight?"

You gulped. He was so close, closer than ever. "Because you're hot," you whispered. Glance down on his lips. "And I want you to fuck me."

He closed his eyes momentarily before he was exhaling loudly. "Fucking– hell!"

And he instantly moved forward, one hand grabbing the back of your head as he brought your face to crush on his, mouths smashing against each other after all the times you had dreamed about it. It was so much better than you could have imagined, lips full and soft parting yours for his tongue to slip in between, making you moan. And you were trying to get closer and closer, almost tripping as you walked blindly further into the apartment. His jacket was discarded on the floor before your shirt joined it, and Namjoon was growling before attacking your neck with his teeth.

"Daddy..." The word truly slipped out of you, and he was pausing for a moment, pulling away to look at you.

"Really? You're really gonna call me daddy?" Your eyes were wide and cheeks burning, squirming away from him before he grabbed your wrist to keep you close. "Shit," he grunted, not sounding mad at all. "Alright, baby. Show daddy where your room is, need to get you in bed right away."

And you mewled at his words. You were there in no time, pulling the rest of your clothes off as Namjoon undressed too. Big and thick, he was even hotter like that, making you press your legs together as you took the sight in. And when he removed his boxers too, you got to found out his dick matched the rest of his body perfectly, long and thick and so hot it made your mouth water.

"Daddy," you whined as he started crawling over you. "You're so big. You're gonna tear me apart."

His large hand grabbed your jaw. "That's what you get for playing with big boys." And he kissed you ruthlessly again. His other hand travelling down your form until he found your pussy, fingers playing with your folds and humming in satisfaction. "So wet. Is that all for me, baby?"

"Yes, daddy," you moaned, hips trying to grind on his hand for some more friction. "I've been wet for you since I first saw you."

"Fuck. I know, baby," he breathed into your ear, two fingers slipping slowly inside you and stretching you out. "I could tell. You weren't hiding it very well, baby. How much you wanted me to ruin you. Which is why daddy's been hard for you all this time, too." Your breath was hitching as he was moving his hands slowly, not even trying to fuck you like that, just trying to get you ready for his cock. And he stopped. "Are you gonna let daddy fuck you raw, baby?"

You almost screamed. "Fuck, yes, daddy, please! Fuck me open with your cock."

Namjoon was growling as he retrieved his fingers from inside you. "What a dirty mouth! Who taught you to speak like that, you dirty, little whore? I thought you were a good girl."

Your nails were scratching his back as you whined and squirmed underneath him. "Oh, daddy, please! I need you! I'll be good for you."

And you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance as he shushed you. "Alright then. Be a good girl for daddy and take this big cock like the good, little slut you are." And he shoved himself in you.

"O–oh my god!" you yelped. Namjoon didn't go easy on you, didn't go slow or gentle, he started pounding you fast and hard right away, truly fucking you open like you had asked him to. You were squirming underneath him but his body was so big and strong, it was caging you completely. And just to shut you up he kissed you again, tongue so deep in your mouth he was choking you. Namjoon was fucking you so hard he brought tears to your eyes, and you felt euphoric being used by him like that.

"My dirty, little cunt," he rasped after he freed your mouth. "Like taking my cock like that?" You were nodding, mewling, unable to speak. "What a good girl. Letting daddy fuck her as hard as he wants." He leaned back, grabbing your arms until he had your wrists pinned above your head and the new position gave him the ability to piston his hips against yours even faster, diving even deeper.

"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna cum," you cried, legs shaking as they fought against his abusing thrusts between them.

"So easy," Namjoon panted with a smirk. "So easy to please you. Gonna cum cuz you've never had dick like daddy's before, huh? No one's ever fucked you this good? Those little boys your age, I bet they don't know shit about pleasing a nasty girl like you." He spat on his free hand and brought it right down on your clit, pressing on it hard. And you were moaning even louder. "There you go, baby. You can cum on daddy's dick now."

"Namjoon–" you yelped, and you felt your orgasm pop, gushing all your juices over him as he kept fucking you through it. He slowed down a bit, coming down to kiss you sloppily as you continued to whine with each thrust against your sensitive, tight walls.

"That's my good girl," he whispered, kissing you almost lovingly. "Don't worry, baby. We're not nearly done yet." And his thrusts slowly got deeper and deeper. "You really shouldn't have let me fuck you, baby. Cuz now I don't ever plan on stopping."

Masterlist | Part 2

#bts #bangtan #namjoon #kim namjoon #request #rm #drabble #oneshot #smut #dilf namjoon #bts drabble #bts smut #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #namjoon oneshot #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader

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suna-reversed · 4 years

Text

Mafia AU! Suna x reader ft Miya twins

2k+ word fic

(warnings/tags- fingering, slight degredation, exhibitionism, hair pulling, oral [male receiving], male masturbation, mentions of breeding, mentions of violence, slight yandere themes)

You felt the cool brush of air against your dripping heat as your underwear was pushed to the side, your wetness immediately coming in contact with the growing bulge on the lap that you sat on.

Suna spread his knees further, hands gripping your thighs so that you were on full display to the lust filled hungry eyes of the Miyas. One of his hands came up to play with your exposed breasts that he had hastily pulled out of your dress, not even bothering to unclasp your bra as he opted to simply tear it off.

You leaned back farther against his chest with a sigh as he twisted one of your nipples, a small gasp escaping your lips at his cold touch.

“C’mon pretty girl, don’t keep those sweet moans hidden from us.”

Said an accented voice, followed by the sound of a zipper opening. You knew Atsumu would be the first one to break. Suna had precisely told you so. But you weren’t done with the task at hand just yet.

Suna’s hand on your thigh grazed dangerously close to your heat,

“Speak up doll, tell Atsumu-kun who makes you moan this good.”

Turning your head towards him with a doe-like look in your eyes, you grinded your hips down onto Suna’s hardening member as you replied,

“You daddy- daddy makes me feel so good- ah fuck!” You were cut off by the moan that escaped past your lips as you felt fingers come directly down onto your sensitive little clit, rubbing circles as the hand on your breast continued to toy with your nipples.

Atsumu had fully pulled out his cock from his briefs by now, the tip a shade darker than his skin, oozing with pre-cum as he slowly started to stroke himself.

“Her pretty little cunt is so tight- even after I’ve fucked it hard and deep almost every single night.” Suna growled, two of his fingers slowly entering you causing lewd squelching sounds as he began to pump them.

Your moans synched up with Atsumu’s heavy grunts and breaths, a profanity leaving his lips every now and then as he started to stroke himself faster. You felt the hand on your breast come up to grip your jaw, turning your head towards Atsumu whose eyes were locked onto you as his strokes became slower. Suna brought his fingers to your lips and you instinctively took them in your mouth, sucking on them, your moans being muffled as the fingers stuffed up your cunt moved faster. Your hips bucked up in response as you felt the familiar coil tighten in your stomach,

“Daddy please-fuck- so close...please let me cum!”

“Go ahead doll, cum all around my fingers”

That was all that was needed for you to crumble around the slender fingers inside you, back arching as you felt your own wetness drip down your thighs.

Your release seemed to be the blonde twin’s undoing as he too came with a loud “fuck!”, spurts of his load dripping down the leather material of the sofa he sat on.

You slumped back in Suna’s lap, eyes closing as you steadied your breathing, Suna’s hands coming up to tuck in your breasts back into the dress.

“I sure do hope the show isn’t over yet, is it?”

A shiver went down your spine at the husky foreign voice. You had almost forgotten that he was still there. Timidly opening your eyes, you saw him look at you with a smirk plastered on his face as he swirled around the whiskey in his glass.

“Always the late boomer aren’t you” the other twin said jokingly. You expected the silver haired man to perhaps reply with a snarky comeback. Instead, he sent down a blood chilling glare towards his brother that had even you quivering.

You felt Suna’s thumb rub circles into your thigh, deftly pulling away to tap thrice on your skin. A sign to ask if you were okay. You replied back by tapping his wrist twice. Sighing, you felt Suna sliding you down onto the couch next to him.

“Of course not, how can we finish off without our guest having had...fun” Suna replied smoothly.

Osamu smirked once more, eyes still plastered onto you as he lowly said,

“Well, I’m afraid I’m not as easy to persuade as my brother. I would much rather prefer a...personalised performance.”

A scoff could be heard in the back from Atsumu as you saw Suna’s fox-like eyes narrow, his own lips curling up into a smile and you swore you could’ve pictured him internally smashing the quick-tongued man’s head against the glass table in front of you repeatedly. You slid your hand across his thigh, squeezing twice.

Osamu didn’t miss the gesture.

“Not one to share are you? Afraid your pretty little thing might leave yer balls hanging once she finds better?”

He had said it so nonchalantly. Like a childhood friend passing on an inside joke to his mate. Fucking hell- this man truly had no concern for his own life, you thought to yourself.

You felt the tension in the room as Suna stood up. He wasn’t going to ruin this after what you had just got through, was he? No, you still had to buy more time. You felt him leisurely pick up a glass of drink from the bar counter as he came to stand behind you on the sofa.

“Why would I? You, her and I all know whose cock she’d be screaming on the loudest at the end of the night.” He said, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder before he continued,

“However...in this case- well, she gets to decide whether she wants some pathetic other cock or not. She does have a thing for always getting new toys-” he paused, ruffling your hair as he mustered up the cheekiest smile possible, “...I do warn you though, they often end up getting thrown away...or even destroyed at times.”

Osamu’s smirk had turned into a clipped smile by now. Atsumu let out a nervous laugh, hoping to ease down the thick veil of tension in the room. Your brain played out all the scenarios in which this situation could turn into an absolute train wreck. So you did the best thing you could have. Looking up, you lightly tugged at Suna’s jacket, making him immediately snap his head towards you,

“Daddy- can- can I?” Your innocent voice seemed to make his own cock twitch, and you knew it had a similar effect on Osamu as you looked back at him shyly. These men were so easy to manipulate once all the blood in their brain flowed down straight to their dicks. You hit the final nail as you continued,

“Don’t want your guests gone without having had fun daddy- I wanna be good for you- for them.”

That made Osamu react out of character for the first time that night as he let out a deep sigh, moving a little to clearly adjust the pressure in his groin. On the other hand, you knew Suna saw through your act. He knew that you’d much rather have these men begging on their knees, and surely not for pleasure. But you had just confirmed your consent, and he did need more time, so he wrapped his ring covered fingers around your throat making you look up at him,

“Okay then- whatever you want doll.”

That was all the signal needed for you to get up, swaying your hips slightly as you walked towards Osamu. He apprehended you with an appreciative gaze as you came to stand right in front of him, before slowly getting down on your knees, moving your hands to place them on his muscular thighs. You heard a “thump” in the background which you assumed was Suna plopping down onto the couch. From the corner of your eye, you could already see that the blonde twin had once again become hard, simply at the gesture of you bending down.

“Still can’t get your full attention, can I ?”

The deep voice snapped you out of your trance as a knuckle brushed across your cheekbone. You looked up at the electrifying man. He had undid a few buttons of his white shirt, revealing his tattoo clad chest. He lightly flicked your nose with his index finger and you felt almost guilty as your core tightened at the subtle gesture.

Batting your eyelashes at him, you slowly slid your hands up to palm him over his growing bulge. You heard the lightest groan escape his throat, and that only spurred on your confidence as you started to unbutton his pants, pulling out his thick girth to slide your thumb across the pre-cum dripping off his tip. Pumping his length a few times, you leaned forward to lick a long stripe from the base up his shaft, stopping at the top to suck on his tip. That single move had almost broken his stoic demeanour as he bucked his hips up, a loud groan leaving his mouth as his fingers came to tangle themselves in your hair. Taking as much of him as possible, you let him set the pace as he rocked your head around his huge girth. Tears welled up in your eyes as he hit the back of your throat, but you continued sucking, drool falling out of your mouth mixed with his pre-cum as a string of moans left his mouth. Your hands came up to stroke what you couldn’t take inside your mouth. You pulled up to suck on his sensitive tip once more before going back to taking him deep in your throat.

“Fuck-fuck I’m close”

You hummed around his cock, intent on breaking one of the most dangerous men in the district, but a whine left you as your head was harshly pulled back by your hair, Osamu’s own frustration being signified by a loud groan.

“Only I cum in her mouth” Suna said possessively, “- continue stroking him baby”

Osamu was shooting daggers at the dark haired man standing protectively behind you. But his attention was ripped away from the violent thoughts as he felt your hands stroking him so well- fuck- he could’ve cum right there as he looked at your fucked out face, your hair mused by his administrations, lips swollen and dried tear stains marking your face. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on. He wanted to ruin you, and he promised himself he’d make you his, no matter what it takes.

You had looked up at Osamu and felt his gaze darken, almost a tint of madness behind it as you continued to stroke him. You felt his climax approaching as his legs began to shake and his moans got louder, pumping him harder and faster, you moved one hand to brush your thumb against his tip knowing he liked it. And it worked as it snapped the restraint in him as he let go, spurting out thick layers of his cum all over his pants and your hands.

“Thank you angel” he had murmured, and Suna’s patience had finally run thin as he had pulled you up, giving you a tissue for you to clean yourself. You noticed Atsumu had managed to finish once more too as he grabbed a box of tissues for himself. You were barely able to meet the eyes of the other twin as Suna had thrown his suit jacket over your shoulders, pushing you out and instructing his bodyguards to escort you to your room, where you had immediately passed out from the exhaustion of all the events of the night.

——————————

Your eyes fluttered open to a hand caressing the back of your head and a strong tattooed arm wrapped around your waist.

“Did it go well?” You mumbled against his chest.

Suna looked down at you, eyes filled with adoration and an emotion you couldn’t quite figure out.

“It did. Kita managed to meet up with the mole in their gang while they were busy with us. The diamonds were easily switched with the fake copies after that.” You sighed in relief, putting your head on his chest, “And by the time the Miyas do realise what has happened, they’d be way out of the province and surrounded by Ushijima and his gang.”

“But...what if they realise it before they’ve left, are you su-”

Your worries were cut off with a deep kiss pressed to your lips. You returned it with equal intensity, a small giggle escaping your lips. But your smile faded as you looked back at the glassy eyes of your lover.

“You’re mine, okay?” He mumbled while peppering kisses against your forehead. You were completely thrown off by his statement, surely he couldn’t believe that you’d ever choose anyone else over him?

“Please tell me you’re mine”

Your heart cracked at his plea laced with desperation. You immediately responded by kissing him once again, moving your leg across his and pulling yourself over so that you were straddling his lap.

“I’m yours-only yours” you mumbled against his lips. Your admission set something feral off in him as he growled into your mouth. Your mind flashed to a particular set of cerulean blue eyes for just the fraction of a second. You threw aside the intrusive thought as your lover’s hands came down to knead your ass, and you felt his member poke against the inside of your thigh,

“Can’t wait to fuck you full of my cum princess- gonna make you cum over and over again until you’re begging me to stop.”

Fuck, you’d put your life on the line everyday if this is what you got at the end of it.

-extra cut below-

“Who were they taken by?”

“Shiratorizawa. 8 dead”

“My brother?”

“They’ve kept him separate for now. Most likely for hostage money.”

“So that’s how they play huh?”

“We’ll help you fix it, after all, our gangs didn’t come to a peace agreement for nothing. At least we still have you...which does bring me to the question, why did you decide to stay back?”

“I had something I had to...take care of.”

The silver haired man clenched his jaw, looking down at the collar engraved with the word “angel” across it. A deranged smile spread across his face,

“You know what? I think I’m gonna deal with this by myself. That brat ‘Tsumu needs some manners beaten into him anyways.” He paused, “Do me a favour though Bokuto- get me all the information possible on that fucker Rintarou- everywhere he goes, who he meets, his personal cars, owned clubs, his close relations.”

“You got it.”

Oh, he was gonna have so much fun hunting down his innocent little dove

A/N: thank you so SO much for 500 followers!! Planning a kink-list event at 700!

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stereostevie · 3 years

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When you think of grunge, do you picture a bunch of long-haired White guys in plaid shirts, singing about teenage angst and self-loathing? Time to expand that viewpoint. Standing above them all should be Tina Bell, a tiny Black woman with an outsized stage presence, and her band, Bam Bam. It’s only recently that the 1980s phenom has begun to be recognized as a godmother of grunge.

This modern genre’s sound was, in many ways, molded by a Black woman. The reason she is mostly unknown has everything to do with racism and misogyny. Looking back at the beginnings of grunge, with the preconception that “everybody involved” was White and/or male, means ignoring the Black woman who was standing at the front of the line.

Bam Bam was formed as a punk band in 1983 in Seattle. Bell, a petite brown-skinned spitfire with more hairstyle changes than David Bowie, sang lead vocals and wrote most of the lyrics. Her then-husband Tommy Martin was on guitars (the band’s name is an acronym of their last names: Bell And Martin), Scotty “Buttocks” Ledgerwood played bass, and Matt Cameron was on drums. Cameron would leave the band in its first year and go on to fame as the drummer for Soundgarden and Pearl Jam. But he paid homage to his beginnings by wearing a Tina Bell T-shirt in a photoshoot for Pearl Jam’s 2017 Anthology: the Complete Scores book.

“For some reason a couple of skinheads are up front, calling her [the N-word] And all of the sudden, Bell grabs a microphone stand and she starts swirling it around her head like a lasso… She swung that fuckin’ thing around her head and about the fourth time, she smashed that son of a bitch.”

Bam Bam’s sound straddled the line between punk and something so new that it didn’t have a name yet. Their music combined a driving, thrumming bass line; downtuned, sludgy guitars; thrashy, pulsing drums; melodic vocals that range from sultry to haunting to screamy; and lyrics about the existential tension of trying to exist in a world not designed for you. The band’s 1984 music video for their single “Ground Zero” is low-budget, but Bell’s charisma seeps through.

“She was fucking badass. That’s all there is to it. She was amazing as a performer. I’ve only seen one White male lead singer command the stage in a similar way that Tina Bell did, and that was Bon Scott of AC/DC,” says Om Johari, who attended Bam Bam shows as a Black teenager in the ’80s and who would go on to lead all-female AC/DC cover band Hell’s Belles.

youtube

Christina King, a Seattle scenester who was close friends with Bell from 1984 until the early ’90s, says the singer’s talent was obvious. But she believes a lot of people dismissed Bell as a gimmick.

Among those attending their shows: Future members of grunge bands like Nirvana (Kurt Cobain did a stint as a Bam Bam roadie), Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam.

“I remember one person saying to me that they didn’t get ‘the whole Black girl singer thing,’ it just didn’t fit whatever they were into,” says King. “They were too ahead of their time.”

Bam Bam came into being in an era when hundreds of underground clubs, taverns, bars, and social halls — anywhere that you could cram in a band — were within the Seattle city limits. Bam Bam played almost all of them, and often to big crowds: The Colourbox, Crocodile Lounge, Gorilla Gardens, Squid Row — just to name a few.

Among those attending their shows: Future members of history-making grunge bands like Nirvana (Kurt Cobain did a stint as a Bam Bam roadie), Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam. Not to mention all the other people, mostly White and male, who would become prime targets for music labels trying to market this new sound.

Bell “already possessed everything they were trying to attain. She had a truer rock and roll spirit than almost any of those guys in that town. Everything they tried to do, she naturally was,” says Ledgerwood, still a loyal bandmate.

One Seattle club, The Metropolis, became “like our fucking living room,” says Ledgerwood. It was also the site of an overtly racist verbal assault against Tina Bell.

“For some reason a couple of skinheads are up front, calling her [the N-word],” Ledgerwood recalls. “And all of the sudden, Bell grabs a microphone stand and she starts swirling it around her head like a lasso… She swung that fuckin’ thing around her head and about the fourth time, she smashed that son of a bitch… She nailed that fucker right in the temple of his head. Split like a melon. And the other guy next to him caught it too, they go down, and we’re like, ‘What the fuck?’”

Ledgerwood says that after going backstage for a while to regroup, Bell came back “and put out the most blistering set of our fucking career.”

This could easily be an anecdote about Bell’s power, her resilience, and willingness to fight back against oppressive forces. But it’s also a story about the cost of being a Black woman who does something that some people don’t expect or approve of.

“She’s being pulled out of her zone because somebody is acknowledging how the rest of the world can see her,” says Johari, empathizing with the star rocker. “And even to react to it by picking up a microphone and smashing someone in the face, that means that that incident cost her not only that moment it takes to get back into the song, but the whole [effects of her] action will last for weeks.

“She’ll replay that over and over and over and over again. And then the people she sees that were there when it happened, they’re gonna come up to her and they’re gonna forget everything that she’s saying, all the stuff that she had did, and they’re only going to focus on, ‘I was at that show where you knocked a dude in the head for calling you an N-word,’” Johari says. “It has nothing to do with her artistry. But it reminds her of the way in which she has to be prepared, just in case it happens again.”

King remembers Bell also felt that some of the other men in the band’s changing lineup failed to treat her as an equal partner: “She’s getting that from her own band members — what do you think audience people are like?”

A European tour in the late ’80s gained Bam Bam international fans, but ended after Bell and Martin split up, and Bell was caught in an immigration enforcement dragnet in the Netherlands.

When they returned to the Pacific Northwest, Bam Bam continued playing shows until 1990, when Bell abruptly quit as they were packing up to head to the studio in Portland, Ore.

“She had just had enough,” Ledgerwood says. “For almost eight years she had almost literally eviscerated herself for the audience.”

But that work never resulted in the national recognition they deserved.

“Grunge, whatever that means, is being identified as from your community, your colleagues, your sound that you were a participant in help shaping, and you’re not even mentioned in any of it.”

“Sometimes you need to be a little bit of an asshole to protect yourself. And Bell wasn’t much of an asshole,” Ledgerwood adds. “She was a pure-hearted person and had a really hard time believing that people couldn’t accept her over something as stupid as race.”

Bell didn’t just quit the band, she withdrew from music completely, says her son, Oscar-winning documentary filmmaker TJ Martin. Not out of resentment, he adds, but perhaps to escape the painful reminders that the music she helped pioneer was now earning other bands multimillion-dollar record contracts.

“Grunge, whatever that means, is being identified as from your community, your colleagues, your sound that you were a participant in help shaping, and you’re not even mentioned in any of it,” Martin says. “I can’t even fathom what that would feel like for it to be sort of spit back in your face with such frequency.”

Ledgerwood believes Bell died of a broken heart. But when Bell died alone in her Las Vegas apartment in 2012, the official cause of death listed was cirrhosis of the liver. She had struggled with alcohol and depression. Her son says the coroner estimated her time of death as a couple weeks before her body was discovered. She was 55 years old.

The things that could have told Tina Bell’s story in her own voice are lost. Martin arrived in Las Vegas to find that the contents of his mother’s apartment — except for a DVD player, a poster, and a chair — had been thrown away. All of her writings — lyrics, poems, diaries — along with Bam Bam music, videos, and other memorabilia — went in the trash without her family even being notified.

If you think you were in Seattle in the ’80s, in the grunge scene, and you don’t remember Tina Bell and Bam Bam, you probably weren’t really fucking there.

“I couldn’t help draw a parallel between her not being respected and seen in the first chapter of her life, as the front person of a punk band, and then even in death being disrespected and not being seen for the merits of the life she lived,” says Martin.

Bell’s death is also an indictment of the way she was written out of her own story. The way grunge’s almighty gatekeepers chose to look through her instead of at her. Grunge became the domain of alienated young White men in flannel shirts, and Tina Bell didn’t fit the narrative they were trying to sell.

“Black herstory can suffer immense amounts of erasure if somebody is not brave enough to ensure that women get counted,” Johari says.

To many of those who were part of the scene at the time, the amnesia seems intentional. Ledgerwood brings up the seminal history of Seattle’s grunge era, Everybody Loves Our Town. In it, the author refers to Bam Bam as a three-piece instrumental band mainly notable because Matt Cameron was the drummer. Tina Bell isn’t even mentioned.

“How in the hell would he have a recollection of how great Bam Bam and its drummer was, and not this unbelievably beautiful woman, this firecracker, this explosive rock and roll goddess?” Ledgerwood asks. “Even if he thought she sucked, to not remember the only Black woman on the whole fuckin’ scene is — well, it’s like that old joke about the ’60s: If you think you were in Seattle in the ’80s, in the grunge scene, and you don’t remember Tina Bell and Bam Bam, you probably weren’t really fucking there.”

You can listen to more of Bam Bam’s music on this Spotify playlist. A vinyl album with the band’s songs is coming out this year on Bric-a-Brac Records.

#Alice in Chains #Bam Bam #black history #black women #black women in rock #grunge #Kurt Cobain #music #Nirvana #Pearl Jam #rock #Seattle #Soundgarden #Tina Bell #women in rock #women's history #80s

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plan-d-to-i · 3 years

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(this is me again, a Russian girl with a google translator, but now I have an account !!!) (I already asked this question, but during its sending my internet froze and I still don’t know if it reached you, so that if you've already seen it from me, well, it's not my fault ..)

why do you think JGY gave JL a dog and not JC? Considering the fact that JC is clearly obsessed with them, it is rather strange that he did not immediately instill in his nephew a love of dogs, and JC himself in the book was cold about even Fairy.

While I was thinking about this, I was able to find only two, presumably correct answers, which are related:

I think that JL spent quite a lot of time as a child at the lotus pier, and perhaps JC believed that when WWX comes back to life and comes for a flute, the Fairy will be a hindrance, since it is easier for WWX to make a new flute than to meet by chance with a dog.

JC considered WWX his most loyal dog and that's why he has such a cold attitude towards Fairy.

Hi!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Thank you for resending the question, I didn't get it before!!

Well, I wouldn't say jc is obsessed w dogs. More like some fans are obsessed with the idea of jc being obsessed with dogs. In the Guanyin temple at the end jc rages against WWX & blames him for everything under the sun but not once does he bring up dogs. He kept dogs around Lotus Pier when he was 8-ish. jc doesn't really show any interest in dogs after that. It's not like he's described longingly gazing after dogs any time he sees one.

I do love your idea that he didn't get any bc he didn't want it to be a deterrent for WWX to attempt retrieving the flute he was keeping as bait in Lotus Pier. But probably the simplest explanation is just that he doesn't care about dogs all that much. They just provided him with companionship he couldn't get anywhere else as a child & with something he could control. Now he can just order YunmengJiang disciples around like he did his dogs. It's clear jc was never really looking for equality in his relationships & interactions with others, or in his requirement list for a wife.

Honestly JGY giving Jin Ling a dog is probably an example of the healthier parenting that Jin Ling has been on the receiving end of since jiang cheng decided he's not going to take any cues from growing up around YanLi's nurturing nature & is just going to become Madam Yu 2.0 to her son. In the book JL spent his time equally between Jin and Jiang:

“When Jin Ling was young, he was brought up by two sects. He lived at the LanlingJin Sect’s Jinlin Tower half the time, and the YunmengJiang Sect’s Lotus Pier the other half” (Chapter 38)

JGY is very adept at reading human nature and discerning people's needs. WWX notices this in empathy w NMJ's head:

“He knew of people’s likes and dislikes so that he could find suitable solutions; he loved running errands and could do twice the work with half the effort. Thus, Jin GuangYao could be said to be quite a talent at analyzing others’ interests.”.

He gets Fairy for Jing Ling bc he understands JL can't build any bonds with other kids his age and has a lot of pain that he's not finding any way to express other than through anger, violence, breaking things & terrorizing the servants in Koi Tower. JGY probably realizes that it will be easier for Jin Ling to be vulnerable around a dog instead of a person, and to, in that way, foster some positive emotions & expression of those emotions in Jin Ling.

“Jin Ling suddenly remembered that when Fairy was still a clumsy little puppy that couldn’t even reach his knees, Jin GuangYao was the one who brought it over. Back then, he was only a few years old. He fought with the other children of Koi Tower, and didn’t feel satisfied even after he won, smashing everything in his room as he bawled his eyes out. None of the maids and servants dared approach him, afraid to be hit.

Grinning, the younger uncle of his snuck inside to ask, “A-Ling, what’s wrong?” He immediately smashed half a dozen vases beside Jin GuangYao’s feet. Jin GuangYao, “Uh-oh, how fierce. I’m so scared.” He shook his head as he left, pretending to be scared.

The second day, Jin Ling refused to go outside or eat anything as he sulked. Jin GuangYao walked around right outside his room. With his back against the door, Jin Ling shouted to be left alone, and suddenly the bark of a puppy came from outside the door. He opened the door. Half-squatting, Jin GuangYao had in his arms a glistening-black puppy with round, wide eyes. He looked up and smiled, “I found this little thing but I don’t know what to call it. A-Ling, do you want to give it a name? The smile was so kind, so genuine that Jin Ling couldn’t believe Jin GuangYao faked it. All of a sudden, tears fell from his eyes again.”

I'm not saying JGY's move was wholly altruistic, or that it even was primarily driven by altruism and not just say a desire to restore order to the servant staff of JinLin tower, but that doesn't mean it was necessarily devoid of it. & ultimately “This black-haired spiritual dog was a rare species” not just any random dog, and it ended up being Jin Ling's only friend/companion until he grew closer to the Juniors & WWX. & ironically enough in part it foiled JGY's last escape plan lol. I'm seeing kind of a trend in mxtx works where baddies get screwed precisely by the few semi nice things they tried to do.

#mdzs #Jin Guangyao #Jin Ling #jiang cheng

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inkandpen22 · 4 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You

Pairing: Harry Potter x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smutty-smut, swearing, fighting

Word Count:

A/N: my first smut lol be nice

Masterlist

It’s the day of Fleur and Bill’s wedding. Alone in Ginny’s room, I stand in front of her mirror, analyzing my appearance in this dress. Hermione picked it out at the store. She insists I look best in blue. I wasn’t sure about it being silk or the low neckline or the practically nonexistent back. At least it has straps, though they’re about as thin as pasta.

There’s a knock at the door behind me and a call over my shoulder for the person to enter freely. When I turn back to the mirror, I see Harry enter quietly. I swallow hard, clenching my jaw as I pretend not to care. He approaches me nervously, his hands in his pockets.

“You uh... you look really nice,” he compliments, look at my reflection by my side.

My eyes remain on the mirror as I mumble a soft ‘thank you.’

Harry sighs, picking up on my frustration. It rolled over to today after last night's bickering following dinner. Ron may have left it to slip that the ‘Golden Trio’ may be leaving any day now to search for Voldemort’s Horcruxes. Harry somehow failed to mention to me, his girlfriend.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, sounding frustrated. “Can we talk about this? I would like for us to enjoy tonight.”

His words are rational if we were discussing him forgetting a minor matter! Instead, we’re referring to him leave for weeks, perhaps months! We will have no form of contact! I won’t know if he’s dead or alive!

“No,” I answer sharply. “Talking about it will just make it worse,” I determine, turning to head out of the room.

Harry grabs my wrist, stopping me. “Wait-”

“Harry!” I snap at him, much to his surprise. Harry stands there wide-eyed, taken aback by my rash reaction. How does he think I felt after I learned that he’s putting himself on death’s doorstep. “Look,” I sigh, softening my tone. “I understand that you’re ‘The Chosen One,’ but we’re only seventeen! Things are steady at the moment, why must we rush it?”

“I have to do this!” Harry insists and I yank my wrist free of his hold. I pace away and he follows close on my heels. “Do you think I’m going to enjoy it? This won’t be a little holiday, Y/N, we’ll be hunting ways to destroy Voldemort!”

I whip my head around, eyes pricked with tears, “but I don’t you to go...”

Upon seeing my distressed state, his features soften. He reaches out to me, cupping either side of my face softly. “I know, my Love. I don’t want to leave you... believe me,” he whispers, caressing my cheek and I place my hands over his. “But it’s up to me to fix this. Everyone is depending on me.”

“Let me help you!” I try to reason with him.

“No, I can’t ask you to risk your life for me,” he refuses sternly, but I can tell it’s out of fear.

“You're risking your’s for me,” I argue. “For all of us!”

“That’s different!” His hands fall roughly as he turns his back to me.

“How?” I shout at him.

He can the most irrational person! For being ‘The Chosen One’ he’s rather stupid! Hermione would’ve been a better option in that pointless prophecy!

He spins toward me sharply and yells, “because I don’t have a choice! Because I love you!” He pauses, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stares into my eyes solemnly. “Because I love you...” He repeats in a whisper.

“I love you too,” I reply quietly, tears threaten to fall from my eyes. I can’t lose him. A world without Harry in it is a world I couldn’t bear to live in. “Please Harry, please let me go with you!” I practically beg.

He shakes his head, avoiding my gaze. “It’ll be dangerous Y/N. I... I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself if anything were to ever happen to you.”

“I can take care of myself!” I remind him in a hiss.

I hate how defenseless he sees me. I’m one of the most skilled witches in our class at Hogwarts, Dumbledore said so himself once.

“I know that!” He barks, hitting his boiling point. “But I want to protect you!”

I roll my eyes with a scoff, he can’t be serious! “Oh stop with that ‘me man, me protect woman’ bollocks, Potter,” I mock.

“Why can’t you just listen to me!” He yells at the top of his lungs, his face turning red.

“I’m coming!” I insist, not backing down as I add to this screaming match.

In a swift glide, Harry crosses the yards between us. He grabs both sides of my face and smashes his lips to mine hungrily. At first, the action catches me off guard and I struggle to shove him off of me. He merely wraps his arms around me, pressing me to his chest. Harry’s never done this before, this isn’t like him. He’s usually so hesitant and unsure of himself. I find myself melting into the feeling. I embrace the sensation and Harry grips my waist, his nails digging into my skin. I wrap my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Harry grabs the back of my legs and I jump to wrap them around his waist. Walking across the room, he then lowers me onto the bed.

“Merlin, you’re so stubborn,” he mutters against my lips as he raises the hem of my dress up.

“I’ve learned from the best,” I remark bitterly, still frustrated with him.

“Why must you be so hard all the time?” He insults, rising above me with a disdainful glare in his eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” I giggle, referring to a different kind of hard. Potter doesn’t scare me. Though I’ve never seen him this way, I’m still shaken. In fact, it excites me.

Furious with my reaction, he aggressively curling his fingers under my panties and yanking them down his legs. “You expect me to allow you to come with us when all you do is distract me!”

“That’s not my fault, Potter. You’ve always been too deep in your own head,” I tease, combing my fingers through his hair as he lowers himself down between my legs.

“You’re right,” he agrees surprisingly, peering up at me. “I should be deep inside you more often,” he smirks wickedly before disappearing between my legs.

My eyes flicker up to the ceiling as I feel Harry’s tongue brush against my core. At first, it’s a series of steady glides. He’s teasing me, making me want more. My hand brushes his brown curly locks back gently. Then, Harry picks up his pace unexpectedly, causing me to jolt from surprise.

“Godric fuck,” I curse, breathless from the sudden burst of pleasure.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he purrs against my core, making me shutter.

Harry’s nails dig into my thighs roughly, holding me in place as I struggle under his aggression. I had no idea Harry had this in him, it’s incredible. The sensation is all-consuming, I can’t get enough of it. I bite down on my lip, suppressing a sweet moan.

“Don’t do that,” he commands. “Moan for me, Baby.”

I peer down at him, thinking of everyone in the house. “But-”

His eyes narrowed at me in slits. “Do as I say,” he growls, moving up from between my legs to lay on his side next to me.

I swallow hard as Harry glides his fingertips down my body, watching them travel down to my core. His flicker up to my face as they enter me. My lips part with a gasp and I grip his forearm.

“That’s right,” he mutters in my ear. “I want you to cum for me.”

I moan, his action and words testing my willpower. His lips kiss my neck and suck at the skin, finding my sweet spot. My eyes squeeze shut and I feel myself slipping. He knows me too, it isn’t fair.

“Please Harry...” I whisper pleadingly

“Look who’s so compliant now.” I can feel his smile against my skin, “you want to?”

I hum, nodding my head slowly.

“Say it for me,” he instructs. “Beg for it.”

I remain silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He can’t win everything. Then, he begins pumping his fingers in and out of me faster. I gasp, reaching down quickly to stop it. He moves to hover over me, his fingers continuing their attack as his other hand wraps around my neck. He towers over me with a pleased smirk at my defenselessness.

“I won’t unless you say it,” he warns mockingly.

I squirm under his pressure, his fingers driving me closer to the edge.

“Say it,” he repeats.

“Fuck me dammit!” I bark, frustrated that he can make me get so close with little effort.

“There’s my girl,” he chuckles wickedly. “You needy needy girl.”

His attack ends as I hear him unbuckle his belt. I pant, catching my breath after everything. I was so close, dangerously close. I’ve never yearned for someone or anything more. I want Harry, need him. The best part, I’m fucking pissed at him and he’s pissed at me. We fucking hate each other right out and we’re taking our anger out on each other in the most glorious way.

Standing beside the bed, Harry glides his palm over my soaking core. My back arches off the bed as a quiet curse escapes my lips. He chuckles, rather pleased with him.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, Y/N,” he grins, grabbing me by the ankles and yanking me closer to him. “Just wait until I fill you.”

I roll my hips uncontrollably, needing him inside me. Merlin, I need him to fuck me hard. I need him to utterly wreck me with everything he has.

Harry teases my entrance with his tip, glancing between me and my core. Then, his eyes stay on mine as he glides into me slowly. My lips part as I suck in air sharply. He smirks mischievously, slipping his hand around my neck. Steadily, he keeps apace. I moan, getting used to the sensation and adjusting. Then, Harry increases his pace at a rapid rate, making me hiss. Pounding into me, he grips my neck tighter. I whimper, overwhelmed by the pleasurable and foreign pain.

“Scream for me, Baby,” Harry pants, relentless with his assault. “Scream my name for everyone to hear.”

“Fuck Harry,” I whine, running my nails down his back, likely leaving marks.

He moans in my ear, the sound causing my core to pulse. I wish I could hear it repeatedly.

“Just like that,” he breaths. “Louder!” Taking a fist full of my hair, he tugs it back.

I shake my head, everyone will hear us, then what? We’ll have embarrassed Fleur and Bill on their wedding day.

Irritated with my refusal, Harry starts rubbing circles over my clit as he thrusts into me relentlessly. A yelp escapes me uncontrollably, much to Harry’s satisfaction.

“You’re going to do as I say from now on,” he hisses, starring down at me as I squeeze my eyes shut. “You’re going to be a good girlfriend and respect me!”

“Fuck you, Potter,” I grumble, barely able to speak.

He chuckles mockingly, “you already are.” I feel the pleasure building up in my core. Godric, I hate how I’m angry with him, but he still manages to get me off. We were fighting just minutes ago! I fought him off but it was hard not to give in. The passion in the anger energized the need for him even more.

He’s hitting my G-spot relentlessly as he rubs circles over my clit. I’m so close, my walls tighten around Harry.

“That’s it Y/N, cum for me,” he orders. “I want you cum all over my dick.”

His words push me over the end, the pleasurable feeling pouring over me. Harry thrusts into me faster, intensify my high. My back arches off the bed as a deep moan falls between my lips. Harry starts at my neck, kisses down my front.

He groans as I cum on his hardness. “Fuck, I’m cumming,” he pants. “I’m gonna fill you up so much.”

Right as I begin to subside from my climax, Harry hits his point. He rolls his hips, his dick hitting depths new for both of us. I moan, relishing in the feeling as his cum fills my walls.

Harry falls to the bed beside me. The room falls silent as we recover, nothing but the sound of the two of us trying to catch out-breath. Well shit, that was by far the greatest shag I’ve ever had. I stare up at the ceiling, still trying to process everything.

“You’re staying,” Harry pants as if that means anything. He certainly knows how to ruin a perfectly good moment.

I scoff dismissively, whipping my head to the side to look at him. “oh I am so coming!”

“It’s going to be rough!” He starts arguing again. “You’re going to get hurt!”

I laugh at his reasoning, “if what just happened proves anything, it’s that I can handle a bit of roughness.”

“Y/N...” he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “I couldn’t bear losing you.”

Rolling onto my side, I cup his face gently and make him look in my eyes. “You won’t lose me. Now you know I don’t make promises, so I won’t. But, even if something does happen, I will always love you.”

With a soft nod, he kisses my palm and places his hand over mine. “I love you so much.”

There’s a comfortable pause as we stare into one another’s eyes, pondering the minutes. Harry reaches out and brushes his fingers through my hair comfortingly. Soon, we won’t have this and we don’t know what may happen. We’ll have to make the most of what we have now.

“What time is it?” Harry asks.

I check the clock on the nightstand. “Three forty,” I read before turning back to him. “Why?”

He scrunches his brows together up at the ceiling, deep in thought. “That gives us twenty minutes. We’d be cutting it pretty close.” He glances over at me with a cheeky grin. “What do you it again?”

“Oh please, Potter,” I giggle, already moving to straddle him. He grips my waist, steadying me. “We can do it in ten max.”

“God, I love you,” he grins, bringing me down for a kiss.

I think this time around won’t categorize as angry sex, but for the future, Harry and I wouldn’t mind if we bicker now and again.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #the weasleys #hogwarts #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fandom #hp marauders #hp #imagine #smut #harry potter smut

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stitch1830 · 3 years

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Walls

What's this? Oh, this is my angsty Kantoph agenda :)

...............

“How are you feeling?” he whispered.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve asked me in 20 minutes. And you know the answer.”

Kanto quietly chuckled. “I know, I know. I just worry.”

Toph smiled. She knew he worried. But there was no need for that, now. Things were good. They were so good.

An indignant cry filled the air, and the two froze in the bed when Lin squirmed in Toph’s arms, worried that they had woken her up. But when she settled back into place, Kanto remarked, “She’s so tiny.”

“You didn’t have to push her out of your vagina,” she scoffed.

“I know that, but she’s just… this is the smallest she’ll ever be, you know?”

“Did you want a bigger kid to rip through me or something?”

“What’s with all the snark?” he quietly teased. “I’m trying to have a moment with you and our daughter.”

Toph chuckled. “Sorry, I cried way too much today, just trying to make up for it.”

He said nothing in response, just kissed her temple as he gently held onto Lin’s fingers. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, soaking in the realization that they were an actual family now. For months, they tried to wrap their heads around the prospect of it and what it would mean when their baby arrived. But the actual moment itself was an entirely separate and unique experience from the mental preparation, something that one could only understand once they went through it themselves.

And to think only hours ago their plans for the day were completely different than this. Toph found herself smiling at the thought. Just a few hours earlier, she had been restless and running around the house, trying to induce labor, and subsequently freaking out when she forgot his birthday. It wasn’t until she actually sat down with him to try to relax that Lin decided she was ready to enter the world. Some birthday, Toph thought.

She broke the silence with a silly comment. “Sorry for ruining your birthday.”

Kanto shook his head quickly. “Don’t say that. This was the best birthday of my entire life. Lin was the best gift ever.”

“You’re not even mad that I forgot earlier today?” she teased.

He shrugged. “At least you’ll never forget it again.”

“Yeah, now I have to plan two birthdays. Fuck.”

“Language.”

“Yes, ‘fuck’ is a word.”

Kanto lovingly sighed at Toph’s antics, then said, “Perhaps it’s time for a nap.”

“Maybe in a bit, I just wanna sit here for a little longer with her.”

“Okay,” he whispered, resting his chin on Toph’s shoulder. “So, what do you think we’ll do for our birthday next year?”

“What?”

“Well, I just don’t see how you’re gonna top this. I mean, you gave me the most perfect baby girl in the world, just not sure how you’ll beat this gift.”

“Who says I have to?” she demanded.

“Societal norms. Me,” he joked. “You know, another perfect baby would probably—”

“Don’t even fucking joke about that!” she laughed. “I just gave birth to this melon head, and you’re already talking about another??”

He shrugged. “Lin would be a great big sister. I can feel it.”

“Yeah, well. Keep dreaming, Hotshot.”

“My reality is better than any dream I could think up.”

“Wow, that was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, but it made your heart melt, didn’t it?”

Toph paused in her retort, because it did melt her heart. He was right; their reality was better than any dream, and their future as a family together was going to be absolutely amazing. For now, though, she enjoyed the present moment: Lin in her arms, and Kanto’s wrapped around her. The first moments they shared as a family, and it was absolutely perfect.

He seemed to have forgotten that he was waiting for a comeback from Toph, for he quietly cooed at their baby, “Happy birthday, Linny. I can’t wait to celebrate our birthdays together next year. Hopefully Mama won’t forget,” he teased, then bent down to kiss Lin’s tiny fingers in his hand. When he sat up, he turned Toph’s head toward his and kissed her on the lips, and after, they let out a content sigh for the perfect moment they were living.

~~~

Toph let out a dreaded sigh, exhausted from living in her nightmare of a life. She couldn’t bring herself to face her friends or even her daughter right now, but they were all gathered at the Fire Nation palace to celebrate Lin’s very first birthday. An occasion that should have filled her heart with immense joy, but she couldn’t bear to even crack a smile, because her mind always drifted to that conversation she had with him just a year prior. So, for the start of the party, Toph hid from the world, trying to pull her shit together and put on a stoic face for all her worrisome friends. It always took longer than she expected to do so, and timed inhales and exhales did nothing to dissipate the creeping wave of grief that threatened to spill out.

She sighed again. How time had changed so quickly. What she would give to escape to her dreams to leave this shitty reality.

But she couldn’t. She had to soldier on and put on a brave face for her friends. For her daughter.

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, and she shut them quickly and dug her nails into the palm of her hands. No, she couldn’t cry, because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop. She swallowed the lump that formed in the back of her throat and she took one shaky breath before it was time for the ‘celebration’ to begin.

……

Katara held onto the birthday girl as she smashed chocolate cake in her hands and up to her face, smiling despite tension in the air. She couldn’t believe Lin was already one! It felt like yesterday that Toph told her she was pregnant, and was shocked at the fact that a year had passed since she helped deliver Lin into the world. Time really did fly by, and she could only hope Toph noticed some of those happy moments in time. Even if most were tainted.

She looked over at Toph, who sat on the opposite end of the room with a glass of water in her hand, mindlessly nodding to whatever Aang had to say to her. Toph’s tired eyes, slouched posture, and her ever-so-slightly trembling hands made Katara’s heart break for her friend. Toph put on such a brave face for the world after Kanto’s death, but Katara never would’ve thought she’d have to do that around friends, too.

Her focus for the rest of the evening fell between Lin and Toph, switching every so often to detect any change in Toph’s demeanor and to Lin whenever she became restless in Katara’s arms. But the waterbender found herself mostly glancing over at Toph, trying to think of something that could lift her spirits. There wasn’t much that could brighten up the somber undertone of the party, if anything at all.

Perhaps… Perhaps it wasn’t about fixing the grief today. Perhaps the best thing for Toph wasn’t to cover up the conflicting feelings of joy and sadness, but to learn to accept both. They had been trying to distract her from those emotions, but the walls in her heart had cracks in the foundation, and it was only a matter of time before they might break.

And Katara knew what had to be done.

It wasn’t until Zuko asked for some “Lin time” that Katara had an opening to speak with Toph. But when she stood up to meet her, Toph had quietly snuck away out of the party room, likely to find some place where she could be alone.

Despite knowing Toph’s desire for solitude, Katara had other ideas. She cut a small piece of cake that remained and ventured out into the vast halls of her home to find her friend. It didn’t take long, considering Katara knew most of the hiding places, but Toph wasn’t even hiding. The earthbender simply made a quick turn around the corner and fell to the floor, quietly sobbing into her knees.

Katara fought off the tears that pricked at her eyes as she sat down next to her. They said nothing, but let the quiet sniffles and cries fill the silence. When Toph settled for a moment, Katara decided to speak. “Lin’s perfectly happy with her aunt and uncles in the other room.”

Toph said nothing, but her blind gaze pierced the wall across from them as she bit her quivering lip and waited for Katara to continue her speech. So, she said, “I know today’s about Linny, but I brought us some cake to share for someone else’s birthday.”

Her friend choked out a breath, instinctively reaching for Katara’s hand. She gladly gave it to Toph, and Toph continued to point her gaze straight ahead as she clung to Katara’s hand, squeezing the life out of it.

He should’ve been there, but the world had other plans. Instead, Toph and Katara sat on the old, worn carpet of the palace halls, grieving the loss of a partner and a friend. And he was a dear friend to Katara. His crooked grin never failed to make Katara smile, and her heart warmed every time she caught him glancing at Toph as if she was the only person in the world. And whenever he entered a room and Toph noticed, she would smile so warmly at him that Katara knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was in love with the man. Katara recalled a time when those thoughts gave her happiness and joy, to know that her best friend found a man and a partner that would love her and treat her right for the rest of her life.

She didn’t realize he would only do those things for the rest of his short life.

Katara didn’t fight back her tears, anymore. There was no point. And with a quiet, shaky breath, she whispered, “Happy birthday, Kanto.” The first of many birthdays he was supposed to share with his daughter, but wouldn’t.

Toph cried out at the mention of his name, hugged Katara fiercely, and sobbed into her shoulder as they sat there. Over their cries, Katara faintly heard the quiet commotion of the birthday celebration occurring in the other room.

#kantoph #atla #lok #toph #toph beifong #kanto #lin #lin beifong #katara #writing #one shot #i think? i forget the requirements of a one shot #and krast told me what this kind of story was i'm sorry buddy i forgot smh #like a boomerang i always come back to you series #the long winding road to you #also i just realized she never did top his bday present the next year #you know... cuz he's dead #ope #angst

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uniarycode · 3 years

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Takari Week 2021, Day 1 - Sibling Shenanigans.

Things have gotten too bad, Taichi and Yamato need an intervention. And if they pay close attention, they might learn something important.

Nah, who we kidding.

Written as part of @takariweek

In some ways, Yamato was Taichi’s closest friend. They had gone through hell and back together, forming an unbreakable bond.

That said, they had different tastes in music, TV, and basically anything. Taichi preferred to watch sports and anime, Yamato preferred dramas and cooking shows. Taichi flourished in the company of others, Yamato demurred in the presence of anyone he wasn’t familiar with.

But one pastime they could both agree on was a good old fashion round of Smash. Whenever it was just the two of them, they generally sat down, fired up the N64, and just let their preferred characters bash one out.

As they were doing until a few seconds ago when an unsightly banner obscured their view of the television. “intervention” was proudly displayed, with one ‘i’ dotted with the crest of courage and the other with the crest of friendship. The phrase was repeated in Japanese, just underneath, in case the translation caused them to miss the point.

Either end of the banner was affixed to a small wooden tripod, being gently lowered to the ground by a devious sibling.

“What’s going on?” Yamato grumbled, still mashing buttons on the control in hopes of gaining an edge. “And when did you even have time to make that?”

Hikari ignored the protestation “We’re here because we’re your family and we care about you. We hoped that time would heal this wound, but time is no longer on our side. You two will be going to college soon, and we need to break through to you before too late.”

“What are you talking about?” Taichi asked. “We were in the middle of something.”

“Smash can wait, we can’t keep putting this off.” She took a deep breath. “This may be hard to hear, but please understand, it needs to be said: You are atrocious when talking to girls.”

“What?”

“Look Taichi, you’ve already near exhausted all your high school options, if something doesn’t change, you’re going to end up alone and unloved, filling your apartment with pets for some form of companionship.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?” he asked. She solemnly shook her head ‘No’ in response.

“Can I go?” Yamato cut in. “I have a girlfriend, if you remember. We’ve been dating for years now.”

“Yes, and she still calls me to rant about it after every date.” Takeru cut. “I can only clean up your messes for so long Yamato, you have to learn how to do it yourself. Or better yet, don’t make messes in the first place.”

“Ouch.” Taichi said, casting a sideways glance at his co-captive.

“You aren’t any better Taichi,” Hikari shot, “You had seven people and eight Digimon wingmaning you on a simple phone call, and you still managed to mess it up.”

This time it was Yamato who glanced at Taichi.

“Now.” Takeru said “The first thing you need to learn is observation. If you pay attention to someone and signal that you notice when something changes. This shows you care enough about the other person to actually look at them and remember what they looked like yesterday.”

He cleared his throat, “For example, if say, your girlfriend decides to style her hair differently, you should maybe compliment the style change, instead of being oblivious. Wouldn’t you say, Yamato?”

“It was one time.” Yamato grumbled.

“Perhaps a practical demonstration would be better.” Hikari said. “Oh, Takeru, Honey, sorry I’m late, the train was delayed.”

“Don’t worry about it Babe, I’m just glad you’re here. Hey is that a new ring?”

“Why yes, thank you for noticing,” she said, bringing her hands up and giving the ring a twirl. “my BFF got it for me as an end-of-middle school present.”

“Ahh, I could tell it was someone close to you, that’s your birthstone on top right?”

“Yep.”

Takeru turned back towards his unwillingly captive audience. “See how I not only noticed the ring, remarked upon it, but also showed I remember her birth date.”

Taichi looked across at Yamato, “Do you know any of the birthstones?” A shrug was the only answer.

“You may think observation is only for what you can see, but it’s deeper than that. Any piece of information falls under observation, and if you like a girl, you will do your best to remember anything you learn about her.” Hikari said.

“Observation is really important, right Hikari?” Takeru asked.

“Very, but knowing everything can’t help if you don’t know how to use it. Which brings us to lesson two.”

“Is this whole thing just a ploy for your sister to practice being a teacher?” Yamato muttered.

“Tact!” Hikari and Takeru declared in unison.

“Tact is pretty tricky. You mostly define it by what not to do. Like not being a dumbass.” Takeru said.

“True, tact can be hard to see when done well. It’s basically about avoiding the obvious traps. For example, when calling a girl whose Maine coon died recently, you should maybe try and avoid mentions about that dead cat, unless she needs to vent. Isn’t that right, Taichi?”

“That was one time.” He protested.

“Right, right, a demonstration?” Takeru asked, pulling a magazine out from behind his back, and pretending to flip through the pages.

“Oh Honey, there you are.” Hikari said looking him up and down. She paused for a few seconds, then pulled lightly on his arm. “Say, I hear there’s a Harry Potter-themed escape room running these days, how about we go there on our next date.”

Takeru put the magazine down “Oh, what’s that? Thanks Babe.” he asked.

Hikari turned back towards the couch. “Notice how I observed the story about his favorite basketball star being caught in a scandal, and deflected toward other interests, instead of stepping on that land mine.”

“How would we even think to notice that?” Yamato grumbled.

“With observation of course.” Takeru replied. “Notice everything, even the things that aren’t being conveyed directly.”

“Being perfect might work for you Takeru, but some of us are human.” Taichi said.

“Oh, I’m hardly the only guy with a girlfriend. You just have to put some effort in.” Takeru said, “Which is as good a segue as any to topic three: Compliments.”

“I know how to give a compliment.” Taichi said.

“Do you?” Hikari asked. “So if you were at the beach with say Sora, or Mimi, or Meiko, you would be able to properly compliment their swimsuits?”

“One time!” Yamato and Taichi yelled together.

“And yet three failures. Pretty poor performance when you think about it.” Takeru said.

“Compliments can be tricky; they require you to combine the previous two skills. You need to observe someone so the compliment makes sense, but you also need tact. Something that’s a compliment to one person may be a touchy subject to another.” Hikari explained.

“Especially when it comes to appearance and body parts,” Takeru said, “and you don’t want to get too accustomed to your compliments either, keep them fresh and exciting.”

“It’s amazing isn’t it Taichi?” Yamato asked.

“So many words and I don’t think they said anything.” He agreed.

“Perhaps the demonstration then.” Takeru said, turning to his partner. “Hikari, I saw you reading to some of the elementary students today, boy am I lucky to have such a kind girlfriend.”

“Don’t mention it. I enjoy it, and I like to think they did too. Say, can you open this jar for me? It should be easy for a strong man like you.” Hikari said.

Takeru mimed grabbing and opening a jar. “Anything for you Babe, say, is that a new shirt, you look positively radiant today.”

Hikari raised her hand to cover her giggle, “I’m so glad I have such a funny boyfriend. You know this is the school uniform, I’ve been wearing it for almost three years now.”

“Huh, you’re right. I guess I never noticed, every time I look at you I can’t help but be overwhelmed by those pools of milky hazel, whenever I see them, my troubles float away and I feel like I have the strength of a thousand men. I could spend hours just staring into those wells of pure emotion.”

“I, uh, uhh, I like your eyes too?”

Takeru let out a large laugh and the pair turned back to the couch to find it no longer occupied.

“That’s no good. They’ll never learn like this.” Takeru admonished

Hikari raised her hands again, twirling the promise ring on her finger. “Do you think they noticed?” she asked.

“Them? No way.” Takeru replied, “but that’s what makes it fun. See how long it takes before they catch on.”

“What if someone else tells them we’re dating first?”

Takeru shrugged, “Just say we already told them, they just weren’t paying enough attention.”

#Digimon #takari week #takari #takeru takashi #hikari yagami #digimon tri

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ikeromantic · 3 years

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Unexpected Gifts

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction, approx. 2000 words of fluffiness. This scene occurs in the midst of chapter 12 and features Motonari as well.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Mad Dogs

Motonari sauntered past the innkeeper with a grin. The man clearly knew something was going on, but he just bowed and went back to wiping down tables and ordering his staff around. The pirate had to wonder what a man like him thought about the rough men filing through his entrance, carrying crates of gunpowder, firearms, swords, daggers, and other implements of war. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to bother him.

Maybe the world had finally gone mad. Fitting, considering his current allies. Only in a mad world would the demon monk, the disgraced captain, and the traitorous kitsune be allies.

He carried just one package, a wooden box. So lightly burdened, Mouri bounded up the stairs. He could hear the little chatelaine ordering his men around, telling them where to set what and how. For such a naive little girl, she could get real bossy. He kinda liked it.

Motonari made it to the top of the stair just in time to see one of his men make a grab for the little Oda princess. The deckhand pinned her up to the wall, leering like she was a dock-front whore.

“Want to tell me where I can put this,” the deckhand grabbed at his crotch suggestively.

She glared at him furiously, but her legs were shaking. “Through the rolling hole of a cheerio,” she spat.

While neither Motonari or his men had any idea what that was, it was clearly an insult. The deckhand drew back to slap her, but Mouri caught his arm first.

“Whaddya think yer doing? Didn’t I tell ya to set tha boxes down and go?”

The deckhanded nodded. “Yeah, but boss, she said -”

He didn’t get to finish. Mouri let go of his hand and punched him in the throat. Hard enough to hurt, not enough to kill. “I didn’t ask fer an opinion.” His men took the hint and grabbed their friend, exiting quickly.

When they’d gone, the spicy little princess sagged against the wall. “Thanks Motonari. I was worried for a second.”

“Ya should still be worried,” he grinned. He closed the space between them, pushing her back against the wall, hard.

“M-motonari. If Mitsuhide sees you, he will kill you.”

“The fox ain’t here, is he? So what’re you gonna do about it?” Motonari lowered his head to her neck, inhaling the smell of her. It was no wonder the kitsune warlord lost his mind for this girl. She was smart, stubborn, and she felt like heaven against his chest. Plus there was something sweet about her. A gentleness absent in most. It appealed to the darkness in him.

The Oda princess considered a moment and then with a breath, slammed her head into Motonari’s jaw. It hurt. He let go with a laugh. “That was good. Not good enough, if I really wanted ta hurt ya. But good.”

Her hands shook as she straightened her clothes. “So what, you were just trying to freak me out by being a creep?”

Mouri wasn’t familiar with that word exactly, but he got the meaning. It only made him grin wider. “Sure did. Yer smarter than ya look.” He shoved the box toward her. “Take this.”

She eyed the box with distrust, but took it from him. “It’s not full of, like, poisonous death toads or something? It won’t explode when I open it?”

“Nah, but that’s a good idea. Have ta remember that.” Motonari watched her, curious if she would take what he’d brought.

The princess carefully opened the box as if she didn’t quite believe it was safe, but once the sunlight hit the polished metal within, she gasped. Inside, lying on a stuffed cotton, a matched set matchlock rifle and dagger. The design was slimmer and lighter than the usual matchlock, and the metal was engraved with tiny flowers, which also decorated the knife hilt.

“Motonari . . . “ she looked at him with wide eyes, wavering between shock and pleasure at the unexpected gift.

“Don’t ya look at me like that. Had ‘em lying around the boat. And ya need ta be able to protect yerself.” The pirate shrugged uncomfortably.

She set the box on the table and hugged him. “Thank you. That was very nice.”

Motonari tensed. “Yeah. Ya better let go before yer fox shows up. Seems ta be the jealous sort.”

The princess dropped her arms and stepped back. “Still. I really appreciate it.”

“Ya can stop thanking me.” He turned away, unsettled. He hadn’t expected quite that reaction. “I’ll have tha boys bring by more powder and shot later. Be ready.”

Then he left, passing Mitsuhide in the hall. The kitsune gave him a flat stare. Clearly, he didn’t trust him, but then, Motonari didn’t trust himself either.

***

Mitsuhide watched Mouri hit the steps at a near-run, hurrying as if he was escaping something. And his face was red, gaze distracted. Strange.

The door to the his room was open, and the smell of gunpowder wafted out. Mitsuhide stepped in. His little mouse was bent over a wooden box on the table. She turned when he came in and hurried over to him.

“You’re back!”

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wider than normal, even for her. “Did I surprise you?” Mitsuhide studied her. Mussed hair, slightly disheveled kimono, nervously fiddling fingers. Something had happened and she was trying to hide it. Silly mouse.

“N-no! Of course you're back! I just, I thought it would take longer.” She glanced back at the table then rushed forward to take his arm. “Look, Motonari’s men came today with more weapons. Are these what you were expecting?”

Mitsuhide let her divert his attention, curious what her end goal was. She showed him the crates of tanegashima, the swords and daggers, and armor. Her words spilled out in an anxious flow, repeating herself and stumbling through descriptions of the delivery.

Finally, she ran out of things to say and stared at the floor. “So, uhm, that looks, ah, about right?”

He took her chin in his hands and gently raised it to look at him. “The delivery is fine. You are not. Tell me what happened today.”

“Nothing?” She blinked up at him, schooling her features to stillness.

It might have been convincing if not for the way she shifted on her feet, and a glance back toward the table. Mitsuhide let go of her and turned back to see what the box was and why it seemed to concern her.

What he found surprised him.

A delicate kaiken and a slim-looking tanegashima. Both bore an imprint of flowers, delicate sakurasou blossoms. Mitsuhide lifted the matchlock. The stock was polished maple, the steel barrel rolled from thin metal sheets by a master. This was no common weapon. It felt light in his hands compared to a regular matchlock, and a little small. A tanegashima made for a woman.

“Did Motonari leave these?”

The chatelaine nodded. “He gave them to me.”

“Before or after manhandling you?” Mitsuhide watched her reaction carefully.

She looked down. “After. He said I needed to be able to protect myself. He had to stop one of his men from . . . well, anyway, nothing happened. I didn’t want to mention it.”

Because he, Mitsuhide, could not keep his calm when it came to her. He felt a mix of guilt and jealousy. If anyone should give gifts to his little one, it should be him. And that flower . . . not that she would understand. But Mouri had to know that he would. Bastard.

Mitsuhide set the weapon down and went to her. He took his little one into his arms and held her tight to his chest. “You must not hide things from me, little mouse. I want to know everything about you. Everything that happens to you. Even if you think it doesn’t matter, even if it might be . . . upsetting.”

Her arms twined around him, pulling her even closer. He could feel the beat of her heart in time with his own, and the rise and fall of her breath. It made him feel so frail for the first time since he’d taken up his place as the left hand of the Oda forces. Small in the face of this love that he held. Fragile in knowing how many ways it could break.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you right off. I just didn’t want you to worry.” She looked up at him. “I want you to know I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me when you go off to do what you need to. I can handle myself around men - even ones like Motonari.”

Mitsuhide held her and let her words sink in. It helped, a little. He still wanted to smash the matchlock and snap the knife. Throw them in a gutter. Bury them. Along with the man that brought them.

“I can tell you’re still angry with me,” his little one murmurred. Her voice was muffled against his chest. He could feel the tickle of her breath, the movement of her lips.

“Never with you, little one.” He stroked her hair.

She snuggled into him, her nose and chin pressing. “Then . . . at Motonari? Nothing really happened. One of his men got a little handsy and Mouri stopped him before I had to.”

Her voice was confident, certain of her skill. Mitsuhide had done everything he could to impart to her the ability to protect herself in exactly such situations, but she’d never really been tested. Maybe he worried for her unnecessarily. But he couldn’t help it. “Perhaps you should come with me when I run errands - just to be sure. I don’t like the thought of another man laying his hands on you.”

“Mmmm, now you sound almost jealous. Are you, Mitsu?”

“Yes.” He couldn’t help the way he growled the word, nor the surge of possessiveness he felt.

She kissed the hollow just below his throat. “You shouldn’t be. There is no one in this world for me but you.”

“I know,” Mitsuhide grinned. “You promised to stay by my side, remember?” He sat down, pulling her into his lap. She fit against him perfectly. “But other men see you and desire you. And bring you tokens of love.”

She giggled. “The gun? You can’t think Motonari - I mean - no - just no. He thinks I am some stupid little girl that is going to mess up your mission.”

“And you believe that means he does not also wish to bed you?” Mitsuhide’s eyes flashed gold and hot in the afternoon light.

“I hope not.” She glanced over at the box. “If it bothers you, I can just get rid of them. I don’t need my very own gun. Any of the ones from our stockpile will do.”

Mitsuhide shook his head. “No. Then he would know it got to me. He would see it as a little victory. No - you should keep them and use them. They are fine weapons.” He ran a finger along the curve of her ear. “Just remember that even if you carry a weapon with his sakurasou, it is my bellflower that engraves your heart.”

“Sakurasou? Is that his clan symbol?” She closed her eyes, enjoying his light touch. These moments were his and his alone. Seeing her in pleasure like this.

“No. But he meant to express his desire for you. And that I would see it and know. He is testing me.” Mitsuhide smiled, and it was a wicked grin. He leaned down to place a little row of kisses along her neck. “Perhaps I should leave my own little message - and mark -” he nipped the skin just under her ear.

“M-mitsu! You already left a mark!” She pointed to the fading love bite half covered by her collar.

“Not obvious enough.” He kissed her forehead. “Maybe I should put one here?” Then he kissed the tip of her nose. “Or here?”

“Ah! No! D-don’t you dare -”

“Or maybe a ring of them all around your neck.”

His little mouse looked worried. “You can’t be serious. Mitsuhide - I might die if you do that. My heart would burst from the teasing alone!”

He laughed, feeling at last better. “I couldn’t risk that.” She was his, and the whole world would know it once he finished this mission. Mitsuhide promised himself that he would make her his wife and she would bear his name, his children, and his mark.

“Good,” she smiled up at him. “But . . . that doesn’t mean you have to stop kissing me. I really liked it when your lips were - here - and here -” she pointed at spots on her neck. Then she got a mischievous look in her eye and brushed a hand over her breast. “Here too.”

“Mmmm, I see. Perhaps I should make a study of these spots. Compare your reaction when I kiss you elsewhere?” He let his hand caress her side, slipping down to her belly.

“I support that research.” She shivered and her eyes took on a hungry light.

“Then let’s begin.”

Next: The Greatest Harm

***flower meanings gotten from here

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #Mitsuhide Akechi #ikesen motonari #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

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kippykasey · 3 years

Text

Grace - Chapter 5: Hydra

Pairing: Howard Stark x F!Reader , Bucky x Reader [Eventually]

Word Count: 3522

Series Summary: A young nurse is recruited by Dr. Abraham Erskine to join the SSR to assist on Project Rebirth. Following her work with the SSR she is drafted into the US Army Nurse Corps in the war against the Nazis...and HYDRA.

Chapter Warnings: violence, torture, bad things because Hydra

Author's Note: Surprise?! I wasn't even expecting to get this done but I literally just finished and thought, eh why not. So here it is! Also I hate hurting my characters so this was a bit eh to write but I hope all is well!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the gifs they are either found on google or under the gif tag provided by tumblr. Any language other than English was translated using Google Translator, and translations will be posted in bolden italics after. I am not a nurse or in the medical field although I may do some research medical treatment written may not be correct.

Grace Masterlist | Snowdrop Masterlist | Masterlist

Pain. A throbbing, harsh pain echoed through my head from the temple. The throbbing beat opposite that of my heart. The second thing I noticed was how cold and damp it was. After battling with my body to force open my eyes I squint through the dimly lit room. A deep voice spoke in another language… German it was German but my head hurt too much for me to understand it. Seconds passed before I realized that I was sitting on the ground in a cell. The door opened and two men walked in flanked by four additional soldiers than the one that had been watching me.

“Ah Fräulein (L/n) glad you have finally woken up.” Miss.

“Who are you?” I cursed how weak my voice sounded at that moment. Though the man didn’t seem to find me a threat of escape as he spoke. “Johann Schmidt. You see we have a common acquaintance… or, well, had.” The grin he wore made my stomach drop and he didn’t need to verbally admit it for me to realize this is the man behind Abraham’s death.

I raised my head in defiance and although it made the pounding in my head worsen I pushed myself from the ground and stood within the cell. “You’re after the serum.”

“Ah, clever girl. You were Abraham’s assistant when he made the serum.” The second, much shorter man spoke. “Fault in your plans. I don’t know how to make the serum.” Schmidt smiled at me and it took all my self control not to shiver from his intense look. “I was hoping you would say that,” His eyes turned off me to the soldiers. “Bring sie zum Stuhl. Probiere es an ihr aus. Vielleicht wird ein kleiner Elektroschock Ihr Gedächtnis auffrischen.” Take her to the chair. Try it out on her. Perhaps a bit of electroshock will refresh your memory. As Schmidt talked his head also turned towards the shorter man.

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I moved back against the wall. Three soldiers stepped towards the cell. One man opened the cell door before the other two stepped inside to detain me. I managed to elbow one in the face in my struggle but it was useless. The two soldiers dragged me from the cell, out of the room into a brighter lit hall. We were in some kind of warehouse. My eyes zeroed in on a chair that looked right out of a nightmare. Stronger hands forced me into the hard chair and held me down while I was struggling against someone’s attempts to strap me in. My struggling did nothing but get me a slap to the face. The strength of the slap disoriented me long enough for them to strap me in.

The shorter man who followed us now stood next to my head. I could see the reflection of myself in his glasses. “This is only going to hurt a lot, try to hold still.” He instructs lowering two plates down around my face. It was only a few short moments before the electricity forced its way into my head. I had no control over my body as it thrashed in the confines of the chair. An agonizing scream of pain carrying throughout the building went ignored.

That wasn’t my first time in the chair but it was the only time I had passed out in the chair. Spent 30 minutes in the chair 3 times a day, sometimes longer. After a week I had to start muttering things to myself in my cell so I didn’t forget who I was. The Nazi soldiers gave me the bare minimum to survive as far as water and nutrients goes. I cracked halfway through October. I gave the short scientist, Armin Zola, the list of what I would need before I was taken back to my cell after yet another time in the cell. I was given parchment and a pencil to write things down with but it kept coming in flashes.

Nights were the worst. Mouth dry from lack of water, eyes trained on an iron grate in the ceiling. I realized two weeks into my daily chair visits that I had forgotten my brother’s name. When I noticed it caused me to cry to sleep that night. So whenever I could I would mutter to myself facts I could remember starting with my name, rank, and where I was from. The list of facts got shorter every day. Somedays I remembered more than others. There were times all I could bring myself to do was hum Amazing Grace to myself to deal with the pain.

The first time I was in the lab I tried to escape. I was left with just one guard and I thought I could take him. I smashed a beaker using a shard like a knife. I ended up knocked unconscious, my hand bleeding from the self inflicted cuts caused by the makeshift weapon. From then on I was chained to the lab table and three soldiers kept watch. I wasn’t given anything to test the serum on. So I never tested unless I thought it would work because I used myself as a test subject.

I was unconscious for two days once from a failed serum. Others cause excruciating pain. Days came and went and I lost count of days but I knew it was still October. Yet a month was close to passing as November began to be discussed amongst soldiers around me. Pressure was placed on me to recreate the serum. Each day if I didn’t recreate the serum I was sent to the chair for the torturous electroshock. That is how I figured out I had been successful in a recreation. The serum, when tested, did nothing but make me drop to the lab floor in pain. I wasn’t even given time to recollect myself before being dragged off to the chair. I lasted longer in the chair than usual. I heard the instruction to increase the power. I don’t remember what happened after that.

It took me nearly half a day to recover, then as soon as I had I was back working in the lab. Suddenly I was pulled away from my work and escorted quickly back to my cell. “Neue Soldaten wurden gefangen genommen.” New soldiers have been captured. I pressed myself up against the bars for a chance, a glimpse at the soldiers being brought in.

It was silent as the Nazi Hydra soldiers dealt with the new poisoners. Suddenly two soldiers appeared with smiles on their faces. “Komm Mädchen. Zola und Schmidt wollen dich sehen.” Come girl. Zola and Schmidt want to see you. The soldiers yanked me up and practically dragged me to the room where the chair was. My body trembled involuntarily at the sight of the chair. It wasn’t me going in the chair, given someone was strapped in but given the uniform he was American. “Ah, here iz our lovely nurse. You’ve been asking for a test subject. Here you go.” Schmidt waved at the man strapped into the chair. The man lifted his head just barely and my heart went out to him. As soon as the hands left my arms I moved to the soldier in the chair. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“S’rg’nt Jam’s Barn’s,” His voice wasn’t clear but it was clear enough for me to understand what he said. The nurse turned to Zola and Schmidt. “I wasn’t done recreating the serum when you had me pulled from the lab. I will need time to work and he needs time to rest or the serum will kill him.” I tried to give him whatever comfort I could in those brief moments before we were pulled apart. His head rose just slightly and I caught a glimpse of stormy blue eyes as he was dragged out of the room.

I never got to return to my cell that night. As my eyes zoned in on the blue chemical mixture in front of me I felt a haze cloud my mind, it wasn’t abnormal to experience but I also felt like I was losing myself when it happened. Following my own written instructions I was able to continue my work. The only other thing I forced my mind to remember were two things.

I am First Lieutenant (Y/n) (L/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps. Soldier boy is Sergeant James Barnes.

The words became a mantra in the blank canvas my mind was currently in as I blindly worked by instructions of my very own that I don’t even remember writing. My body moved on auto pilot as I was taken to a crude looking examination room. In the center was soldier boy Sergeant James Barnes strapped to the table. As my mind raced to catch up with me, flashes of memories clouded my mind from when Steve Rogers got the serum, the explosion that followed, Dr. Erskine being shot. My body tensed at a passing memory of being in the chair passed through being replaced by the pain I felt giving myself the serum.

A hand pressed firmly in between my shoulder blades pushing me forward. I stumbled to the table catching myself with a hand on his arm. Wasn’t he wearing an army jacket before? My eyes landed on the serum filled syringe in my hands reminding me of what I was about to do. “First lieutenant (Y/n) (F/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps.. You are Sergeant James Barnes.. I’m sorry for what I am about to do. You’ll be okay. I’ve used it on myself. It will hurt.” My voice sounded so… robotic and monotone as I spoke to him. My hands pushing up his sleeve.

My hands worked from memory and out of second nature my mouth moved and the hymn fell from my lips. The melody of the song was the only comfort I could offer as I injected the poor man with the serum that would change his life forever. His eyes looked up at mine until the pain of the serum changing his body caused them to shut tightly. The leather restraints holding him in began to rip as he pulled against them. Discarding the empty syringe I tried to soothe him more but the second my hand touched his head I was shot with a sedative.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Steve Rogers has dressed up performing on stage like a dancing monkey to sell war bonds since he was given the serum. His first time on foreign grounds and he was performing for soldiers he should have been fighting alongside of. All to be booed off the stage by disgruntled men who just wanted to see a pretty dame.

Steve finally looked away from the rain but not quite at Peggy, “At least he’s got me doing this. Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.” Blue eyes finally met the face of Agent Carter. “And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know.” Her wording might have been a bit rude but the point got across. There was a moment of silence between the two but Steve had this look to him. “What?” Peggy inquired.

The man was drawing in the rain when a familiar face popped up. “Hello, Steve.” Peggy Carter approached him from behind, making him turn from his drawing to greet her, “Hi.” She mimed his ‘hi’ back before laying her jacket down to sit on while Steve asked, “What are you doing here?” Peggy looked at Rogers and let out a small sigh, “Officially, I’m not here at all. That was quite a performance.”

Rogers looked away disappointed that she had caught the horrible show that happened earlier. “Yeah. I uh, I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I’m used to are usually more, uh, twelve.” Steve explained looking out at the drenched ground and falling rain. “I understand you’re ‘America’s New Hope’.” Peggy states watching him. “Bond sales take a 10% bump in every state I visit.” Steve comments like a robot. “Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“You know for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines, serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted and I’m wearing tights.” Steve kept looking down at his journal then squinting out through the rain. A horn alarmed behind them as a medical vehicle slid to a stop in the mud. Medics ran from the infirmary tent to help unloaded soldiers on gurneys. “They look like they’ve been through hell.” Peggy turned back towards Rogers. “These men more than most.” Steve looked up at Peggy knowing she had more details. “Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men were there to back up an already injured fleet, they went up against him and less than 75 returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th and 34th.” Steve slowly turned his head feeling bad for the men who were lost but his attention snapped to Peggy at the mention of the divisions involved as she finished, “The rest were killed or captured.”

“The 107th?” The confirmation had him darting out into the rain, Peggy following holding her jacket over her head for coverage from the rain. The two ran all the way to the tent Colonel Phillips was sitting in signing condolence letters. “Colonel Phillips.” Steve called for the man’s attention as he approached. “Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?” The colonel responded looking up at the pair now standing in front of him. “I need the casualty list from Azzano.” The tone he used was definitely fitting for the role he plays on stage. Phillips however did not appreciate it. “You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

“I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.” Rogers responded un phased. Phillips pointed his pen at Peggy, “You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.” Steve was insistent though and again requested the information he wanted, “Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R..” “I can spell.” Phillips cut him off before muttering, “First Stark and now this.” He stood from the table and paged through the letters he just finished signing. “I have signed more of these condolence letters today that I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry. To the both of you.” Phillips looks from Rogers to Peggy and the woman knew he was referring to her friend from the 34th.”

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?” Rogers was something else, optimistic maybe. “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.” The look of disbelief that Steve sent the colonel as he spoke might have been the first red flag for Peggy Carter. “But if you know where they are, why not at least..” Phillips once again cut the man off, “They’re 30 miles behind the lines through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe.” Phillips was eyeing the spot on the map as he talked about it, even pointing the place out directly. “We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl.”

The colonels' dig at Roger’s lack of status didn’t seem to phase the man but it did fuel the plan he was formulating in his head while staring at the map, memorizing it. “I think I understand just fine.”

“Well, then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got someplace to be in 30 minutes.” The colonel walked past him giving Rogers a very clear view of the map marking out exactly where he needed to go, and where he was. “Yes, sir. I do.” Perhaps the time staring at the map was the second red flag that Peggy noticed. As her eyes flickered between him and the map as he left the tent it all clicked into place and she hurried after the taller man.

“What do you plan to do, walk to Austria?” Peg asked as she entered the tent used as the changing room. “If that’s what it takes.” Steve answered not looking up from where he was struggling with boots. “You heard the Colonel. Your friend, and mine, are most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.” Steve disagreed as he continued to get ready. “Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects..” Steve cut her off as he put on a brown leather jacket, “By the time he’s done that, it could be too late.” He snatched up his bag and shield and headed for the exit. “Steve!” Peggy called following him to the vehicle he tossed his things into. The rain had stopped leaving the sun to rapidly evaporate the water leaving puffs of smoke in the air. Steve looked at the brunette in front of him. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word.”

“Then you got to let me go.” Steve turned to get into the jeep and started the engine before Peggy was at the side. “I can do more than that.�� She told him.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Peggy hadn’t lied. She got them a method of transport much faster than the jeep. Howard Stark sat in the pilot seat flying a plane with the slight chance his fiancée may still be alive. Stark was devastated when he first found out that the 34th was attacked and that only doubled when the attack at Azzano took out the 107th as well.

“The Hydra camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges.” Peggy infomed Rogers as she pointed to the map she was holding. “It’s a factory of some kind.” She gave him as much information as she could. “We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Howard called over his shoulder.

“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve called back up to the pilot. He looked back over at the woman in front of him. “You know.. You two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land.” He was worried about her getting into trouble for him but she looked at him just as worried. “And you won’t?” Steve dismissed her worries, turning his head. “Where I’m going, if anyone yells at me, I can just shoot them.” There was a small click of a loaded gun.

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” Peggy surmised. Steve turned to the shield he had been using on stage giving it a knock, “Well let's hope it’s good for something.” Steve turned back to her just as Howard called back, “Agent Carter? If we’re not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue.” Howard was teasing the agent, the smile on his face hidden from those being him. Peggy shifted in her seat choosing to ignore him and keep conversation going with Rogers. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace. We’re lucky to have him.”

Steve however was still not fully over the comment Stark made. “So, are you two… do you…” There was an awkward pause as Steve thought of the proper way to ask if they were seeing each other by reusing Stark’s words, “..Fondue?” Stark tried not to laugh from the pilot’s seat as Peggy simply shook her head and handed him a device. “This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.” Steve took a moment to look at the device now in his hand before calling up to Howard, “Are you sure this thing works?”

“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard defended seconds before gunfire hit the side of the plane. The plane shook as bullets pelted the sides, shaking the aircraft from the force. Steve stood grabbing his shield and heading towards the door. That he opened. “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy ordered yelling over the wind rushing into the plane. “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” Steve ordered back over the noise of the wind, gunfire, and the pinging of bullets on the plane.

“You can’t give me orders!” Peggy disagreed.

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” Steve looked over at her, giving her a smile that made her weak in the knees. He grabbed the goggles from his helmet, lowered them over his eyes and launched himself out of the plane. Peggy watched him fall towards the ground before the red fabric of his parachute was visible in the night sky from the flying bullets. Howard turned back as instructed by the Captain. Now all they could do was wait.

#grace #howard x reader #bucky x reader #catfa #bucky barnes #steve rogers #peggy carter #howard stark #female reader

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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years

Text

Flowers in Bloom - Connected by Fate

Prompt: flowers that bloom when you touch your soulmate

Pairing: Terushima Yuuji x Seijoh Girls’ Captain Reader

Tw: insecurities, feelings of inferiority, mistaken identities, an emotional breakdown, platonic intimacy

Word count: 5.7k

AN: TBH, I’ve been in a really weird place these past few months and I am so sorry for disappearing. This is the first thing that I’ve been able to finish since November, hence my temporary hiatus. I couldn’t resist joining this collab with the @celestialarchiveshq and my fingers are crossed for more updates of Escape Plan. Until then, enjoy !

Collab Masterlist

*****

One more.

You slide, right arm outstretched, your hand in a fist as you feel sweat-slick legs burning against the ground.

Just a little further.

Biting down on your lip, the sound of the ball hitting the floor supplemented the sound of your world crashing around you. (E/c) eyes watched as it bounced once, twice, until the whistle blew - signaling the end of the match. Slamming your fists on the ground, your team-mate and vice captain, Akemi, stood over you. “C’mon Capt, let’s line-up.”

You look at your setter, giving her a stiff nod as you push yourself off the ground. You join the rest of the girls in teal as you stare at your opponents. Nobody really expected you to win. Not against Niiyama. Not against the prefecture’s favorites. You glared at Mayumi, the setter who led Niiyami. Her name every bit as defining of her play-style. Mayumi’s bright smile was blinding as she clapped the back of her teammates.

You bow with the rest of your team, shaking hands with the Niiyama Queens.

“Perhaps at Spring Tourney,” Mayumi said, holding your hand in her callused ones. “Your serves are getting better.”

The corner of your lips twitch as you nod at her. “I’ll win next time, Mayumi.”

Her eyes sparkled. “I can’t wait to see your next attempt then, (L.Name)-san.”

Your coach calls for you, Akemi tugging on your arm once more. Mayumi’s brown eyes turn to Akemi. “Your technique is getting better, Akemi.”

Akemi’s grip tightened on your arm, it was clear that she felt the same way with the compliments feeling like a slap to the face. “We’ll beat you next time, Mayumi. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” You both bow to the other captain once more before heading to rejoin your girls. “You know she’s just trying to rile us up.”

“Don’t I know it,” you scoff under your breath, patting her hand. You take a breath before you survey your teammates. They all looked battered, exhausted. It’d been a rough two sets against them with your team not even taking one. Glancing back at the score-board, irritation filled you. The whole time, you were only a few steps behind Niiyama, but it was clear that there was still work to be done. Clearing your throat, you drew your girls’ attention. “You all did an incredible job out there.”

Your libero burst into tears, grabbing your arms, “(Nickname)-san, I’m so sorry. If I had tried harder, I could have recovered more balls and-”

“Don’t.” You pull your arm out of Akemi’s grips, grabbing Ena’s cheeks - your thumb wiping away her tears. “Ena, you did incredible out there. This defeat doesn’t fall on any one person.” Your eyes scan the rest of your teammates as you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the ambience of the court. “We stand on the court as six, not just as one.” A whistle blew as the next team raced in. “C’mon. If we hurry now, we’ll probably be able to catch the rest of the boys’ match.”

The rest of the girls nod, leaving the gym to head towards the Sendai City Gymnasium. You tug your teal jacket on, hoping that it’ll safeguard you from your own self-depreciative thoughts. Akemi stayed behind, squeezing your shoulder. “I’ll go with them.” The empty question hung in the air. Don’t you need time to grieve? You squeeze her hand before resting your head on it.

“I’ll be fine.” Swallowing, you take a deep breath. “What kind of a Captain will I be if I can’t be there in front of my girls?”

“Human.” Akemi muttered, but allowed you to pull free and race towards the gym with the rest of the team.

The loud calls of “Ole!” filled Sendai Gym as you all entered the stands, the girls’ perking up at the familiar cry. They all raced down to the very front of the stands, leaving you to watch at the entrance to the seats as Oikawa landed another powerful serve.

“No-touch Ace!” Ena cheered, her mood brightening significantly at the sight. Your mouth felt dry as you glanced at the scoreboard. It was to no surprise that they were doing better than you had. Both teams typically made it to the semifinals, but it was apparent that this time would be an exception. Your heart clenched at the realisation that this game may have very well been your last.

Akemi glanced up at you, seeing your lip quiver. She gave you a stern look, nodding at you. Nodding at her, you spin on your heels and race away.

Too busy, too many people. You growl internally as (e/c) eyes dart around searching for sanctuary from the hustle and bustle of the tournament. You find yourself near the locker-rooms, the hallway void of life. Back hitting the wall, you slide down as you bury your face into your arms. Molten hot tears escaping from their prison as the last brick of your self-control came tumbling down. Shoulders shook as aggressive thoughts continued to batter at you.

What kind of Captain am I if I couldn’t even keep the ball in play?

Am I even an Ace when I couldn’t smash through those blocks?

“Hey, are you okay?”

Your blood froze as you glanced up at a blurry figure in yellow and red. He crouched closer to you, directly in front of your face. “I’m fine,” you huff, sniffing.

“Right, cause that’s the only reason why you’d be sitting in a hallway by yourself crying.” The soft tenor of his voice was soothing. “So what’s got you all teary-eyed then, princess?”

You roll your eyes, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “Don’t call me that.”

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “If that bothers you, I could always call you babygirl.”

For some reason, your heart skipped a beat at the thought.

“Why not just call me by my name,” you fired back.

“Well, I’d need to know your name in order to do that.” He cocked his head to the side. “Unless, you wanted me to know you.”

Shaking your head, you relax your shoulders ever so slightly. “I’d rather let you be a face lost in the crowd to be honest.”

“Then I’ll call you princess and you can just call me your knight in shining armour,” he teased, plopping down beside you. “So what’s got my princess crying today?” Almond eyes scanned your jacket and jersey. “I’m assuming you played today.”

You snorted, “if you meant, did I get viciously defeated by my own lack of skill, then yes, I definitely did.”

The male frowned, eyeing you. “If you made it to the quarter-finals, I highly doubt you don’t have skills.” He wrapped an arm around you, tugging you into his side. You try to push off, not wanting your tears to stain his yellow jacket only for him to pull more insistently. “It’s okay to be upset about a loss, and it’s okay to be emotional about it. But don’t put the blame all on yourself.” His thumb rubbed against your shoulder. “Besides, after this, you can focus on putting that energy towards improving yourself for the next time.”

“If there is a next time,” you mutter, taking in his rich woodsy scent.

“Well there won’t be if you think like that.”

Sitting in silence, his words washing over you. Your sorrows, your self-deprecating thoughts, disappearing as if they were footsteps in the sand and his statements the ocean’s waves erasing them from existence.

His phone vibrated, rumbling against your hips.

When had you gotten so close to him?

“That’s probably my team.” He turns towards you, a calloused hand cupping your cheek as his thumb wiped the glistening silver remnants on your cheek. “Keep your head up, princess, don’t let that crown fall.” Brown eyes met (e/c) eyes, drawing you deeper into his spell than you had anticipated. His warm breath hummed against your lips.

Why were you leaning in?

“Oi, Terushima!” He flinched away, drawing back abruptly as the door slammed open. “OH shit, my bad,” the imposing male apologised, backing away. “We’ll meet you outside, Capt!”

“Sorry,” Terushima grumbled, shaking his head. “I’ll see you some other time, princess. Hopefully you aren’t crying then,” he teased before getting up and dusting his pants before making his way out - your eyes following his back. Taking a moment longer to compose yourself, you too stood up and made your way back to the stands.

“So where’d you end up?”

“Nowhere,” you grumbled as you met Akemi at the entrance to the stands once more. The setter was leaning against the wall, arms crossed as she patiently waited for your arrival. “Where are the rest of the girls?”

“They met up with the rest of the volleyball team while we’re waiting for the others to get out of the locker-room. Did you wanna go grab dinner with the boys?”

“We’ll grab dinner with them tomorrow after they beat Shiratorizawa,” you reply, confidence ringing in your heart. “C’mon, let’s get the girls so that we can shower and change out.”

You turn only to collide into solid, muscular planes, causing you to yelp. Arms shot out to steady you, helping you. “Are you okay?” Looking up, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

As you open your mouth to respond, a call of your name drew your attention away. “(Nickname)-chan!” Your best friend sang, pompously making his way to your side with a forceful smile on his face. “I didn’t hear you cheering for me today,” he pouted, throwing his arms around your shoulders and pulling you out of the ace’s grip. “Ushijima.” Oikawa cocked his head, his smile slipping into a smirk. “Checking out the competition?”

Ushijima tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at the captain’s antics. “Why would I be scared? Aoba Johsai has yet to take a set from us.”

Oikawa’s grip on your shoulder tightened. “We’ll see how confident you are tomorrow when we crush you,” he sneered. “C’mon, (Nickname), let’s go.” Akemi rolled her eyes as Oikawa dragged you away towards your teams, muttering an apology to Ushijima before following suit.

“You’re so rude to him,” you roll your eyes at Oikawa.

“Like you wouldn’t be if you saw Mayumi all over me,” Oikawa retorted.

“Touche.” You sigh, making it to the Seijoh teams. “C’mon ladies, let’s go get changed and we’ll head out for the night. Good job out there, boys!”

With final murmurs of departure, the girls slipped away towards their locker-rooms in order to shower.

*****

“Captain, your flowers!”

“Huh?”

You jolt, looking at your forearm. The buds that had yet to bloom all these years finally have, splatters of violet and blue encompassing your (skin-tone) flesh. The other girls crowd around you, staring in mixed responses of awe and inspiration - all in various stages of undress.

“Who is it?” Ena asked excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Staring at it, your mouth dries. Who could it have been? Ushijima Wakatoshi, the one who caught you? Any of the team-members on the Niiyama team? Perhaps even someone from the Date Tech team who you’d played earlier in the day? Or maybe even the guy who you picked up the bentos from for your team’s lunch?

“I...I don’t know,” you mumble, mouth dry. You look up to see their faces. Pity and confusion filled most of their expressions. Clearing your throat, you throw on a tattered navy hoodie. “If you’re finished changing, please feel free to leave.”

The snap of metal shook most of them out of their reverie as you closed your locker, throwing your bag over your shoulder. Akemi remained beside you as the rest of the girls finished up, quickly filing out though some threw furtive glances over their shoulders as they departed.

“You okay, Cap?”

“I’ll be fine, ‘Kemi. You should head out, I’m sure you’re tired.”

Akemi rolled her eyes, bumping her shoulder into yours. “I’m sure you’ll find each other again.”

“Mmhm.”

“G’night, Cap. See you tomorrow.”

Rolling up the sleeve of your hoodie, you stared down at the ink. The gods really wanted to test you today, didn’t they? First by placing you in the same bracket as Niiyama, secondly by taunting you with your other half only to rip them away with barely a hint to their identity. It’s not like soulmates had matching flower tattoos, nor who could say with confidence that they knew exactly who their soulmate was unless they both knew when their flowers had bloomed?

“You met your soulmate?” Oikawa grinned, noting the colourful display on your arm. The male was standing patiently under the street-light waiting for you. Iwaizumi had headed home first, citing exhaustion and an eagerness to sleep to prepare for the upcoming match. “Who is it?”

“Fuck if I knew,” you shot back angrily, stomping towards him.

His face drops, “what?”

“I don’t know who my soulmate is, Oikawa.” You push past him, pulling your bag closer over your shoulder. “If I knew, I would have told you already dumbass.”

His face drops, forehead creasing in concern. “Are you okay?” He says in a low voice, easily catching up to you as you both walk out of the gym.

“Does it look like I’m okay?”

You look into the darkening sky, the violet hues reminding you of the ink that marred your skin. The permanent reminder that you had met your soulmate only to have lost them just as soon. A star danced across the sky. I wish I could meet my soulmate again.

Oikawa eyes you carefully, for once at a loss as to what to say. You both remain quiet, only giving one another a tight hug at the crossroads where you’d turn to head to your respective homes. You squeeze each other tightly. Him, to comfort you for your disappointing day. You, to congratulate him for his wins and to wish him luck in tomorrow’s match. (E/c) eyes meet brown as you each give one another a nod.

Tomorrow will be life-changing, you promise one another.

******

The final whistle blew once more, calling the end for another game. Another person’s career ending here on this court.

“(L.Name)-san.”

Surprise ricocheted through your body as you looked up to greet whoever had called your name. Above you, a looming figure of muscle entered your field of vision. “Ushijima-san?”

“May we speak in private?”

Chewing on your lip, you look over at Akemi who shrugged before disappearing into the crowd towards the rest of the Seijoh boys. The rest of the girls had already gone ahead, slipping into the mass of teal in order to comfort their counterparts - just as the boys had done the night before. As soon as the match had ended, you’d all race down in order to greet the challengers.

Clearing your throat, you straighten your back in an attempt to match Ushijima. “What is it you wanted to talk about, Ushijima-san?”

He shifted on his feet. “I believe that we are soulmates.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wait, what?”

Ushijima rolled up his maroon sleeve, showcasing the hues of red and pink on his bicep - a gladioli flower. “My flowers bloomed and I noticed it after I helped you from falling.” His eyes fell onto your forearms, noting your own violet bouquet. “Did that bloom yesterday as well?”

Tongue heavy in your mouth, you could only nod. Ushijima? Ushijima Wakatoshi? One of the top aces in the country was your soulmate? Just how cruel were the fates? Not only was Ushijima the sole reason why your best friend failed to make it to nationals, but he served as a reminder to your own failures in your volleyball career.

Ushijima hummed, the deep baritone shaking you out of your reverie. “Being that we are soulmates, I suppose this is the time that I ask for your contact information.”

“My, my contact info?”

He cocked his head, brows furrowing. “Yes, we should get to know one another, shouldn’t we?”

“Right!” You fumble for your phone, pulling it out and handing it to the ace - the phone looking small in his massive palms. He carefully inputted his number, calling himself before handing the device back to you.

A shout of his name drew his olive eyes away from your form, a reminder that you both were still in Sendai City Gymnasium. “I need to go prepare for the award ceremony.” He looks back down at you. “I will contact you later to arrange a date.”

“Right,” you repeat, forcing your head into a nod. Ushijima bows at you before heading back towards the rest of his team. The girls escape from the boys, rejoining you at your side.

“What did Ushiwaka want with you?” Chihiro, one of the second year middle-blockers, asked, looking between you and the lumbering ace.

“He’s my soulmate.”

“What?!?” Various cries filled the air, calling for more eyes to fall upon the group as you try to hush your team.

“Both of our flowers bloomed yesterday, and he knows for a fact that his bloomed after he touched me.”

“Congratulations Cap!” The girls drew you into a hug, all squeezing together. Only one person stood apart from the group, waiting patiently for her own turn. As the team withdrew, chattering about soulmates and how lucky you were to have found yours, Akemi made her way to you. She grabbed you by the biceps, resting her forehead against yours - both of your eyes fluttering shut at the intimacy of it.

“I’m happy for you, (Nickname).”

Your throat constricted at the familiarity of her voice. “I appreciate you, ‘Kemi.”

Akemi had been there for you ever since you had both joined the volleyball team at Kitagawa First. Just as Oikawa had Iwaizumi, you had Akemi. An ace with their setter. You stay close to her for a moment longer before pulling away and clearing your throat. “We should go take our seats for the award ceremony.”

The first years grabbed your arms, pulling you with them as they asked you about your soulmate, how you were feeling about being mated to THE Ushijima Wakatoshi. Akemi watched quietly for a moment longer before joining the group as you made your way towards the Seijoh section of the stands.

Of course, the congratulations were quick to end as soon as your favourite setter found out what had happened.

“Ushiwaka is your soulmate?” Oikawa screeched, his face red as his voice jumped several octaves. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” Oikawa scowled, glaring at your bluebells as if they were to blame for your predicament. It’s funny how people always looked to place the blame on things that were only involved as an unhappy circumstance.

“Hey! It’s not like I asked for this, Oikawa.”

He crossed his arms, narrowed eyes meeting yours. “Are you sure? Because it sure seems like it,” he sneers. “Of course you’d be mated to my mortal enemy, wouldn’t you?”

Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa over the head, face darkened with irritation. “Why can’t you just be happy for (Name)? You know they’ve been stressing about this.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and huffing. “Fine. If Ushiwaka is your soulmate, then you better be ready to comfort him when I beat him at Spring Tournament”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi warned threateningly, rolling his sleeves up.

“And I’ll beat his ass if he ends up hurting you.”

Iwaizumi paused before looking back at you. “Same though.”

Rolling your eyes, you dragged the two into a tight hug. “I love you two, too.”

“More than Ushiwaka?” Oikawa asked cheekily, holding you close to him.

“More than Ushiwaka,” you confirmed, giggling while you patted his back affectionately. No matter who your soulmate was, that will never take away from your relationship with your best friend.

*****

“Hey there princess!” You jolt, looking up to see a grinning male waving at you while he approached you. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I didn’t expect to see you anytime soon,” you reply, amused as he stands in front of you, hands stuck in his pockets.

The male shrugs, jerking his head in the direction he’d just come from. “I have college prep down the street from here, and I’ll sometimes go to the cafe afterwards just to hang-out.” He scruntises you carefully. “What brings you here?”

You readjust your bag, looking at the cafe that you’d just left. “I was meeting with my soulmate.”

Terushima paused, looking back down at you. “Your soulmate, huh?” He cocks his head. “Why don’t you seem more excited?”

Freezing, you take a moment to consider his words. Did you seem that bored? “I am excited!” You defended yourself.

He leans in closer, almond eyes meeting yours as he examines you. A shiver shoots down your spine due to the close proximity. It almost felt like he was able to see right through you - right to the deep center of your very existence. “If that was the case, wouldn’t you be leaving with him? Or her?”

Heat flared in your cheeks as you whipped your face away from his. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Huh?”

Terushima cocks his head, a smirk sliding onto his face. “I’m your knight-in-shining armour, princess, and I refuse to let you be unhappy even if it’s because of your soulmate.” Huffing, you turn away from him and start the journey back home. Terushima chuckled softly, easily catching up to you. Ignoring him, you think back to your date.

All around you two, the cafe was bustling with life. Across the room, a rowdy group of boys were heckling their friend. Your finger tapped against your cup as you and your companion sit quietly.

“What-” “How-”

You and Ushijima both stop in your tracks, looking at one another.

“You can go first,” Ushijima offered.

“No you.”

Another awkward silence settled over you two. Your eyes wander, falling on another pair - evidently also on a date. But they looked so happy with one another, easily finding themselves in one conversation and losing themselves during it. Shouldn’t it be easy? After all, you were soulmates, right?

Swallowing thickly, you meet olive eyes that shine with acknowledgement. He gives you a slight nod. “Perhaps we should start at the beginning?” He offers,waiting for you to nod before continuing. “I am Ushijima Wakatoshi, a student at Shiratorizawa. I enjoy volleyball and plan on making it my career.”

The corner of your lips twitch into a faint smile. “Hi Ushijima-san. I am (L.Name, Name), a student at Aoba Johsai. I also enjoy volleyball and I hope that I can be involved with it professionally.”

At least we have that in common, you think to yourself.

Sipping from your cup, you resign yourself to the fact that it might take time for the two of you to act like ‘proper’ soulmates.

“What’s got you all twisted up?”

“What?”

Terushima rolls his eyes, kicking a rock out of his way. “Like what’s bugging you?”

“I don’t think we’re close enough for me to tell you that,” you tease, bumping into his shoulder.

“I mean, I am your knight-in-shining armour for a reason, right?” Brown eyes carefully watch your features, waiting for your reaction.

You remain quiet for a moment longer, pearly whites digging into your bottom lip. “So much for being lost in the crowd,” you mutter to yourself. Sighing, you look up into the sky to avoid making eye contact with the unruly male beside you. “I had my first ‘date’ with my soulmate and to be honest, it wasn’t what I imagined. Like, I always thought it’d be easy for us to hangout and just be with one another, but it almost...felt like a chore.”

A heavy weight slipped off your chest as soon as you said it, words dragged to your lips from the deepest, darkest part of your heart. Voicing your concerns felt liberating, validating to say the least.

Terushima remained silent, his gaze still on you. It delved deep into you, stripping you bare under his scrutiny. Your fingers fiddled with the volleyball keychain on your lanyard, squeezing it as if to distract yourself from the emotional havoc you’ve reaped on yourself.

“Y’know, soulmates or not, it’s still a relationship. It’ll take time to develop into whatever you hope it is, and you don’t have to define it as a traditional ‘romantic’ relationship if that isn’t what suits you and your soulmate.” Terushima shrugged, fists clenched in his pockets - hidden from your view.

Pausing, you look at him. “Have you found your soulmate, Terushima?”

He jolts out of his thoughtful stupor, casting his gaze back onto you. He offers you a small smile. “Yeah, and she’s absolutely incredible.”

For some reason, your heart hurt hearing that. Tongue heavy in your mouth, you barely manage to choke out a “I’m happy for you.” Looking up to search for a distraction, you were both pleased and sad to find that you’d arrived at your bus station. Though you barely knew him, you found yourself drawn into conversation with him. “Well, this is my stop.” Terushima opens his mouth to say something only for your bus to pull up. “Catch you on the flip-side, Terushima.” You offer the male a small smile before boarding.

“Yeah, you definitely will,” he murmurs to himself, waving to you as your bus departs. You sink into the seat, eyes fluttering shut as you massage your temple. This soulmate thing felt like more trouble than it was worth.

*****

“Hey, it’s you!”

Turning, you raise an eyebrow at the persistent male. The bouncing yellow-clad figure was oddly reminiscent of a Mikasa volleyball. “Terushima?”

“In the flesh,” he responded cheekily, bowing to you with a huge flourish. Embarrassment filled your body as you scowled at his antics.

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” He jabs a thumb into his chest. “About to beat Karasuno in order to play against your boys.”

“Is that so?” You smirk. “Well, I look forward to watching you play then.”

His grin becomes almost comically wide. “Hey, find me after the game. I have something to tell you.”

Raising your eyebrows, you nod softly. “You better win, Sir Knight.”

“With you in the stands, I definitely will,” he responded cheekily. A call of his name dragged his attention away from you. “I better hear you cheering for me, princess!” He pressed his lips to your cheek before darting away, disappearing before you even had a chance to react. Your fingertips grazed the spot where his lips had touched your skin, electricity coursing through your veins from that second of contact.

What on Earth was he thinking? You shake your head, making your way to the stands where Akemi was waiting for you. “What took you so long?”

“An annoying Teletubby stopped me in the hallway,” you rolled your eyes, before looking around the stadium. “Should we get closer?”

Akemi shrugged, “why not?”

The two of you made your way down to the rails, watching as the Karasuno team warmed up. “They’re definitely not what you’d expect,” you mused as you surveyed the various members. “These are the guys who beat Date Tech?”

Akemi shrugged, “don’t underestimate them. They didn’t do too badly against Oikawa during Interhigh too.”

The whistle blew with Karasuno serving first. “Damn, that’s a nice serve,” you comment as you watched the samurai-looking male serve.

“Man that’s intense!” You heard over the roar of the audience, your eyes immediately finding Terushima.

“Chance ball!” Karasuno cries, only for your eyes to widen.

He couldn’t-

Terushima slams the ball back towards their court, a powerful back attack that sent chills straight down your spine. Leaning against the railing, you couldn’t help but watch his figure as he jumped around. Just who exactly was your knight-in-shining armour? Your lips quirked up into a smile as you watched Terushima jump in glee.

What a dork, you thought fondly.

Beside you, Akemi carefully watched your expressions - her own considerations deeply veiled. These past few months, she’d listen to you go on dates with Ushijima only to return dissatisfied with the progression of your relationship. But now, seeing this sparkle in your eye, she couldn’t help but wonder if the two of you had been mistaken after all.

She cleared her throat. “Do you know him?”

Your eyes never left Terushima as Akemi’s question invaded your mind. “Vaguely,” you respond finally. “He’s always shown up in unexpected places.”

Akemi hummed, falling silent as she turned back to the match. Her lips pulled up. “I see.”

As the game progressed, you couldn’t help but be drawn to Terushima. He played as if volleyball was his oxygen, his very purpose of life. The way he moved, it was clear that he was made for the sport, though his more outlandish actions filled you with more amusement than admiration. You howled with laughter when Johzenji attempted to do the synchronized attack, desperately holding onto the railing to steady yourself. Akemi rolled her eyes, chuckling under her breath. She shook her head, a hand hovering over your waist as you wiped away your tears.

“That was too damn funny,” you admitted.

Terushima’s eyes found you in the stands, his smile brighter than a summer’s sun. He waved, causing a sudden shyness to wash over you. Giving him a small wave back, Terushima looked like a puppy who finally got the attention it had been begging for - tail practically waving for all to see. After taking a few deep breaths, you settled back into watching the rest of the match.

*****

“There you are!” The familiar voice called out to you, pulling you towards him as if you were two magnets.

“You played so well out there!” You grin, though you couldn’t help the snide remark. “Too bad you couldn’t beat them.”

“Oi!” he pouted, crossing his arms. “All that matters is that we had fun, right?”

You raise an eyebrow, “sure about that?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Nah, I wish we made it to the next round.”

“Exactly.” You both stand there quietly for a moment. “What is it that you wanted to show me?”

“Oh!” He gulped, fingers playing with one another. “C’mere.”

“Wha-”

You were cut off as Terushima yanked you towards an empty hallway. The two of you had been standing in the main lobby of the gymnasium.

“Why are we here?” You scowled, ignoring the ambush of emotions and shocks that coursed through your body at his touch.

“Promise me you won’t be mad?”

The sheer vulnerability in his voice had you reaching out to grab his hand, automatically agreeing. “I promise. What’s going on, Terushima?”

“You’re my soulmate.”

“What?” You stare directly into his eyes, head shaking slightly. “What do you mean?”

He gulps, sighing before he pulled down the collar of his jersey to reveal pink and red camellias. “These bloomed after the first time that we met.”

“Wait but, Ushijima?” Shaky fingers reached out, freezing just millimeters away from the painted skin. “How do you know for sure?”

Terushima shrugged, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip. “You were the only person I touched that day.”

“I-”

Terushima gently grasped onto your wrist. “I know you and Ushijima were seeing each other for a bit, but I promise you, I’m not lying. I know you’re my soulmate.”

“Terushima…” Tears welled up in your eyes. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

He shrugged, “I wanted you to get to know me for me, not just because I was your soulmate.”

You roll your eyes, shoving him in the chest. “You’re the dumbest person I know.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I could have been spending this time with you instead of going on dates that feel like they’re going nowhere and making me feel worse about myself.”

His face split into a grin, his body relaxing. “So does that mean..?”

You roll your eyes, grabbing his hand in yours. “Yeah, dumbass, you’re really stuck with me now.”

He chuckles, bringing your hand to his lips. “Princess, I’m more than okay with that!”

*****

“Y’know, I’m not sure if thinking Ushijima was your soulmate is worse, or if this is.” Oikawa grumbled, eyeing the pierced male beside you. Oikawa covers his mouth with one hand in a stage whisper, “you know he’s a player right?” You roll your eyes. It wasn’t like that actually helped to hide his words, causing Terushima’s grip on your hand to tighten slightly.

“You think anybody would be a terrible match for me,” you retorted. “Besides, people think you’re a player too, Oikawa.”

“Yeah but at least I’m cute!” Your best friend argued.

Terushima offers you both a smirk. “I think of a few dozen girls who would say that I’m pretty attractive myself.”

You glare at your soulmate, easily freeing your hand from his. “Maybe you can have those girls instead then, Terushima.”

“Wait-”

Turning your body completely, you shut Terushima out of the conversation as you and Oikawa chat about your futures, arms linked with one another. Terushima’s smirk becomes a smile as you throw him a flirty wink over his shoulder. Though he hadn’t really gotten to know you quite yet, he already knew that you were both meant to be. After all, the flowers on his chest and the flowers on your arms said as much and now that you had both really found one another again, you had the rest of your lives to figure out just how compatible you were.

*****

BONUS

“Has (Name) talked to you yet?” Akemi asked, standing beside the impressive ace as they surveyed the scene together.

They watched as (Name) pushed her best friend off, laughing at his antics only for Terushima to take this opportunity pull him towards her, throwing an arm over her shoulder and tucking her into his side.

Her (e/c) eyes twinkled like the lone moon in a violet sky, bright and captivating to watch. Pink lips pressed to her forehead, causing that light to shine even brighter.

Akemi glanced over to the ace who had a blank expression on his face. “What’s on your mind?”

“I did not think that we were soulmates. Not truly.”

“Oh?”

Olive turned to meet brown, meeting her directly. “You knew all along.”

Akemi shrugged, giving him a soft smile. “Perhaps.”

“Why did you not say anything sooner?”

“How could I convince my soulmate that he was going after the wrong person?”

Ushijima offered her a rare smile, bowing his head. “Ushijima Wakatoshi, your soulmate and the fool for thinking someone else was mine.”

She grinned, bowing back to him. “Akemi Sato, the person who allowed their soulmate to think otherwise.”

“Shall we go somewhere?”

“Let’s.”

*****

FUN FACTS

🌸 (Name) has bluebells for her flowers. They signify gratitude and are associated with everlasting love and constancy. In Japanese, they represent ‘gratitude’

🌸 Terushjima has camellias which convey gratitude and love. Pink camellias represent longing and red signifies that a person can ‘hold a flame in [my] heart’. In Japanese, they represent ‘waiting’

🌸 Ushijima had the gladioli, which were the flower of the gladiators. Symbolising strength and moral integrity, they can also represent infatuation and passion.

🌸 Akemi means ‘beautiful and bright’

🌸 Mayumi meants ‘Elegant, beauty, truth’

*****

general taglist: @newfriendjen @kyomihann @cheerysparkle @seiijixcia @shoyomeow @tsumue @terminallyvolatile @aruhappy @crystal-lilac

#terushima yuuji x reader #terushima x reader #terushima fluff #terushima yuuji fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #terushima yuuji x reader fluff #terushima fanfiction #terushima yuuji fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #terushima oneshot #terushima yuuji oneshot #terushima imagines #terushima yuuji imagines

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years

Text

HIP DISLOCATION AT FIRST SIGHT.

Summary: where you're a waitress at Harry's favourite friends-hangout spot, he secretly likes you and you're having a rough day.

Warning: angst and fluff.

You're a beaming sparrow rolling onto balls of your feet from one booth to another taking orders and being sure of customer's satisfaction at it's peak. Sure, managing a five to nine waitress job isn't anyone's dream but paying tuition fees and bills can make anyone work.

Harry loves to be at this resturant you work; perhaps there's something 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 he loves rather than goofing around with his friends at late hours in any of the booths in far corner.

When he first came here it was for a date who stood him up and you wouldn't lie that you kinda tiny bit of manifested for it but went through a broken heart seeing Harry's sad eyes after him lingering to that one hope that his date would show up.

He was relieved that you helped him at that time with you again and again popping your head just to ask him, if he needs any refills for which he would just kindly quip 'thanks love, bu' it's already tipplin' out from rim.' Or you askin' him if he'll like to fill his belly with some appetizers? Poor him didn't ate anythin' from menu just waiting for his date that day.

From that you got to know he's such a gentleman who got his heart stepped on.

He found you enticing. So, fuckin' beaming even with all of the customers tantrums. Them fussing around for the mess their kids created and Harry couldn't take his eyes away from the slight curve your body molded into when you walked away from him.

With his few more visits you got accustomed that what he likes and the one favourite dish of yours from the resturant you recommended him one time, he licked the plate clean giggling coyly at your reaction.

But today it's different. He's chatting around with his friends, they look super chill, comfy clothes, relaxed postures and a train of light conversation that never seems to end.

You were admiring them from your spot waiting for the tray of food for the table 201 ready to take Harry's and his friend's order after that, suddenly a whine escaping from your lips and you bended your calve to soothe out the drastic pain in your hip-bone.

Zoe one of the hostess gave you a sympathetic smile handing you the tray, "hurtin' like a bitch." You hissed to her toes curling. You've been having this pain for like a week but whatever exercises you're doing it wouldn't budge to ease out.

Maintaining a decent gait you headed towards the last table of your shift before closing, smiling at all of them sweetly, whatever you did not to lock your gaze with Harry it anyhow happened by Cupid's wishes.

"Hi everyone, I'm your waitress and will be takin' your orders." You chirped taking out the sequin notepad from the front pocket of your lace apron and Harry's friends couldn't help but to notice how the tips of his ears turned red, eyes glassy with adoring sheen and lips quirking up shyly.

You noted down everyone's littlest of details turning your head down towards Harry, your voice immediately cooing into a soft one softer than you usually use to be polite with costumers.

"And Harry you'll have your usual?" He cleared his throat coughing into his elbow and everyone stifled a fond laugh just for his sake, "yes, please." His please was so gentle that it melted you over the pastel mauve tiles almost making you forget your pain.

The moment you spinned with your back behind them Harry's loving female friend pinched his cheek, "looks like someone gotta girl crush."

Everyone was chatting but Harry's mind and heart was all for you, it didn't slip out from his sheer notice that you're having it rough today; ponytail loose, cheeks flushed not with the warmth you feel from Harry's presence but with the pain zapping in your leg like an electric shock.

His eyes stayed glued to the way your nails coated into hot red nail polish aren't drumming against the counter as they usually do when you wait for the order instead they're clutching around the edges tightly paling your knuckles and now Harry feels concerned.

Another contraction but you didn't startled yourself. No way you're gonna get made fun of yourself infront of Harry, it would be so embarrassing.

Harry peers up at you with a frown when you heads to their table for refills but you didn't meet his eyes. What his friends will say? That you're a cheap waitress drooling for a bambi eyed, hickorey curls, sunny guy.

But damn when your hands wavered while lifting the jug to pour a glass of water, and you sucked your bottom lip to swallow your agonising gasp Harry wanted to lurch from his seat and ask you what's happening because it's frustrating at this point looking you being so wrecked.

You weakly smiled at all of them. Harry wants to stop you by grabbing your hand but he wants to respect you and doesn't want him to cross his boundaries.

You're back with a tray loaded of food and you're putting plates onto the table when an unbearable contraction of pain twitched inside you badly and you cried out a scream of horror, the tray slipping from your hand to the far corner of the table. The pain's so much your breath has got stuck in your chest causing you too see white.

"Y/n!" Harry panics hot on his feet scooping your side in his arms when you lurch forward unconsciously, even the tears aren't falling from your eyes stayin' at the bayline and you cry out in spurts of breaths dropping Harry's heart to his arse when he got the indication you couldn't breath.

"C-can't...b-" Harry immediately rubbed your back in soothing circles whispering with his honey rasp, "breath fo' me yeah, darlin'?". "S'alright. Jus' breath alon' me." You nod and everyone watches you in shock pity. At Harry's countdown you exhaled and inhaled breaths, his friends are in awe a love-at-first-sight, baby-steps love story is unraveling infront of them.

Harry makes you sit at his seat and you giggle shamefully breathily eyes glossy, "Thank you Harry. Can you..can you call zoe for me? She's right behind the counter." The words burning inside your throat and you're expecting another zap.

Harry's a bit hurt. He doesn't even know why! He wants be the one to take care of you but why you aren't gettin' it, why!?

You want to apologise to his friends but all the words just vanishes when zoe comes padding hurriedly Harry behind her with ever sad eyes, "bubs what happened?"

You're about to speak but another contradiction like someone's pulling at your vein and you're a goner but Harry's by your side holding your hand ignoring the twitch from your hardcore grip as if you'll fracture his hand too, "ah fuck! I think so I broke my hip. I'm fuckin' sure, it feels like dying." You scream jerking your leg and even though Harry's friends shouldn't look at you two with so much awement at the moment but they're still doing so because fuck they all are planning the same sight of both of you at the time of your labour because it may seems like you're popping out Harry's child outta your vagina at the moment.

"M'takin' ye' to hospital." Harry says with stern firmness in his voice because fuck boundaries he can't see you in such pain, "s'okay zoe can you take me to hospital?" You hissed writhing but Harry cuts you off. he's loosing his shit, "I don't care, can't see ya like this lemme help ye'."

Next thing Harry's helping your limpy body outside into the backseat of his car and the whole ride he's beside you one of his friend driving the car, you were a blushing mess at some second but another arching your spine so hard and Harry's instantly wrapping you up in his arms whispering sweet nothings through your tears.

You've gone through a little surgery and it's hour after you're shifted into a room that Harry takes a sigh of relief, you groan fluttering your eyes open the very first sight of yours is Harry into his yellow jumper and plaid trouser looking a tad exhausted.

You're on anesthetic and you're sloppy.

"Hi love feelin' kay? You went through a tiny surgery." He informs you but you pouts in response ignoring everything coming straight to the point, sober you would have never got guts.

"A-are ye' me boyfrien'..?" Your words are bit lisped and poppish, Harry chuckles swiping his thumb at your forehead.

"No' yet. Will be if ye' wan' me to." You bobbed your head like a good little girl observing your odd surroundings and fat tears sticks to your cheeks.

"What happened buns? Should I call doctor? Y'hurtin somewhere?" But you denied lower lip swelling for no reason or maybe medication.

"I've so mu-sh uni work to do, an' I've nothin' to wear on our date." Harry giggles wiping away your tears kissing the apples of your cheeks, stroking your head and you mewled like a kitten making Harry's throat go dry.

"No worries bunny. We'll go on a date whenever you'll want to." He just wants to shower you in his undeniable affectionate kisses but he's holding back, "fo' now go to rest. I'll have m'sober bunny peeking from the meadow in mornin' yeh?"

"Promise me you wouldn't leave?" You asks with doe eyes and he just wants to smash his lips to yours. Fuck. He waited so long.

"Did I, before'?" He asks you kissing your forehead gently trying not to irritate the plaster of your hip. You shook your head tucking your chin inside the comforter, "then I wouldn't even now."

In the morning you find your fingers buried into soft mess of curls and he was already up before you could try to even move your finger, "Harry?" Your voice hoarse from the drowsiness and he cups your cheeks asking if you're feeling dehydrated but you chuckled shaking your head.

"I feel high." He tucks his bottom lip inside his mouth at the fact you look more ethereal from this close, "high from anesthesia." He quips.

"Do you remember anythin' from last night?" He's anxious now how he'll bring to actually ask you out, "I do, from me litreally shouting like a lady bout to give birth to crying for not havin' any dress for our date." He's amused not just at the fact your memory didn't slipped but that you're more chatty and bubbly outta your waitress persona.

"Then it's solid?" He asks timidly and you nod humming coarsely leaning to peck his lips but he grabs you by neck not letting you pull back, thumbs all stroking, mouth moanin' for you and eyes closed into bliss.

"Wanted to kiss ye' so bad from so long." He deepens the kiss not caring if any doctor comes marching right now.

"Now I'm all yours to kiss. Kiss me whenever you want to."

#fluff #cute harry #harry styles blurb #hsh

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hains-mae · 4 years

Text

Flowers

(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU

Rating: T

Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.

Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays. You are just an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life, so one might think it only makes sense that your soulmate is just as ordinary as you. But that isn’t the case. Especially not when your body is constantly littered with flowers. Some of them fade over time, some stay, but one thing is for certain – your soulmate seems to get hurt. A lot.

Notes: Hey there you guys. Recently I’ve been caught up in a Batman fever, and I can’t do anything about it. I ended up creating a challenge for my friend @mrevaunit42 which was an “Character x Reader” Soulmate AU. Seriously, it was all in the name of fun.

And then I got caught up in it, perhaps a little too much – and created this. I’ve never written a soulmate au before, though I really wanted to. (Now I have! Yay~) So please forgive my writing since I’m a little rusty, and I hope you enjoy.

Stay safe everyone.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.

I woke up to a burning sensation on my lower ribs in the middle of night. Hissing in pain I slowly pushed my feet out of the warm covers and turned on the lamp beside my bed. Pulling up my shirt I assessed the damage.

It was purple lilacs this time, stretched across the middle of my torso going horizontally to my side. I winced as the tattoo completed itself and just as the heat came, a cold chill ran through it and down my spine. Somehow it soothed the burn.

God, another one? I frowned at the beautiful flower and sighed. It worried me that my soulmate was prone to getting hurt. Sometimes the injuries made sense, like when I found them on my knees, I could easily chalk it up to falling and scraping – but injuries like these were more difficult to decipher.

How does someone normal get hurt this way?

They don’t.

“Unless they’re a criminal.” One of my friends stated dryly days ago.

“Or a hero!” Another said quickly.

Needless to say, I wasn’t in a rush to find out. Whoever this person was, I knew from the start that they were trouble.

The next time I woke, it was to the early morning rays that escaped my curtains and played a fiery dance on my eye lids. I groaned and pulled the covers up wishing I could sleep in for a couple more minutes, but I knew I couldn’t.

A few weeks ago my school, Gotham Academy, announced that they were holding their annual science fair at a convention centre as opposed to the regular school gymnasium, because surprisingly enough, Wayne Enterprise offered to fund the event.

It was no secret that Gotham’s economy was hitting below the desired margin. Many people don’t have jobs which resulted in an influx of crime in the past years. And so Wayne Enterprise collaborated with Gotham’s Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to raise awareness and encourage young minds to strive for a better, innovative future. They shouldered the expenses needed and created an international affair, to top it off; Wayne Ent. also offered scholarships to future college goers and internships in all their branches.

Which was why I couldn’t sleep in today. I had project to work on. In line with our team of sponsors, I decided to invent a weapon that could help the GPD when catching criminals. A gun that projects thin plastic case marbles filled with a chemical concoction that erupts into a quick hardening foam upon impact. The foam itself is not toxic, but it works with catching and detaining. It turns as hard as stone but there was another type of compound that I was in the process of creating to counter act it as a measure of safety.

I got up and started my day.

“Good morning sweetheart.” My mom greeted as I entered the kitchen. She smiled warmly at me as she placed a plate of eggs and bacon on the table.

I couldn’t help but return the gesture, walking up to her and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Morning Mom, are you working tonight?”

“I have to, but don’t worry I’ll be leaving something in the fridge for dinner.”

I thanked her and took my plate into the living room. Turning on the T.V., I easily found the news channel and watched the latest reports on Gotham’s activities.

Mom sometimes had to work on weekends just to make ends meet, which was one reason why I was so hard to get that scholarship and hopefully the internship as well. The other reason was…

A family picture caught my eye in the middle of the news and I bit back a sigh. My dad, my mom, and me. We all were smiling at the camera.

Dad was part of the Police force and died during a heist. Reports stated he was running after the criminals and got shot before he could capture them. That was another reason I chose this as my project. Dad always wanted to fight for justice, hopefully this invention could help.

I finished up my breakfast and helped my mom with chores before I slipped into science mode and continued tinkering with the project. The projectiles were complete and I was able to make 3 in total, which I stored in a small box encased with extra padding.

It was around evening after my mom left that I got another burn. I dropped the screwdriver I was holding and bit my lip. Gasping for breath I pulled my sleeve and watched another flower blossom on my forearm.

The pain was gone in an instant and the cold tickled the skin that was branded. I sighed and slowly straightened my poster. This person, after all these injuries, they better not die before I meet them. I grumbled to myself when I realised I was short on supplies. Poor planning on my part.

I grabbed my bag and locked the front door before I headed out to the nearest hardware store, careful to keep my marks hidden from view. I’ve lived in Gotham my whole life, and I knew that standing out, even in the smallest way, would lead into trouble.

The walk to the store was short and uneventful, thankfully. There were only a few customers. I manoeuvred my way between the isles and picked up what I needed. After paying at the counter I hauled my goods and ducked back into the streets. I almost wished I didn’t stop when I heard that woman cry out for help. I was unarmed, unprepared, and every cell in my body screamed at me to walk – no – run away from the scene that was unfolding before my eyes.

But she was helpless. Clad in a trench coat and rain boots, she didn’t look like much but her bag was definitely designer. The thieves in question had a knife pointed at her face. There were 6 of them. All were towering and bulky next to her petite frame. Their menacing stares struck a cold shiver in me and my hand involuntarily clutched the projectiles I was working on in my pocket. I had a feeling it would be safer with me than it would be at home, however this was not how I imagined I’d first be using them.

The woman screamed again and I clenched my palm.

I sucked in some air and got ready to shout at the perpetrators – until I felt the wind rush past my ear.

In a flash someone had swooped into the scene and kicked the man holding the knife to the ground. The sound of blades being drawn stole my attention. It was Robin. He took a stance between the woman and the men.

“Run. Now.” He told the lady.

She whimpered and scrambled up to her feet dashing towards me, towards the entrance of the alley. She zipped past and didn’t stop running till she turned the corner. I should be running too. But my eyes were fixed on the fight that was about to happen.

Robin seemed no older than me. In reality there was no way he could win against 6 huge men. But then again, this was Robin. No normal teenager.

“6 against 1.” He mused, the grip on his katana tightened. “That hardly seems fair.”

The one who held the knife, possibly the leader of the gang, growled thickly. “Get‘im boys.”

They all rushed towards him at the same time, hands in the air and weapons ready. Robin whipped his blade and easily knocked two knives down, the remaining used their strength and threw punches that looked like it would strike anyone straight to next week. The masked boy effortlessly dodged all their hits. Crouching, jumping, twisting, exactly when needed and not a second too late. His movements were precise; a quick jab below the rib striking the kidney with the handle of the sword, a sharp slam of his elbow to the chin, and to close the deal with a blunt blow force to the side of the neck. The goon fell like a tree that’s been cut down.

I gaped in awe.

The others rushed to avenge their fallen comrade, but Robin was quicker and used his blade to disable them. He kicked one of them into the brick wall, a sickening crunch echoed as the goons’ head smashed into it, then a howl of pain when Robin sliced his back. I cringed at the sight of the blood. It was a superficial wound, at least from my vantage point. The cut was deep enough to hurt and draw red, but not enough to kill.

The next lunged himself and grabbed Robin’s wrist, the boy growled and kicked him the face, forcing to free himself. He couldn’t see the other one running towards them from behind, the weapon aiming straight for Robin’s back.

“Robin!” I found my voice and screamed. “Behind you!”

He did a roundhouse kick and slammed the head of the one holding his wrist, then using the momentum back flipped and kicked the one who was behind.

I sighed in relief.

“What are you doing just standing there?!” He shouted at me as he readied himself again. “I said run!”

That got all the men’s attention. The ones that fell got back up and huffed angrily.

“Get the girl!” The leader shouted. “We can use her.” His leer sent bile rushing up my throat.

I squeaked as 3 of them started to chase me. Finally my legs listened and I dashed across the street onto the other pavement.

They were too fast though, their thundering footsteps grew closer towards me. My lungs burned as I tried to inhale some much needed oxygen, physical sports like running really weren’t my thing. I nearly tripped on an uneven tile as a scream rippled out of my throat. I braced myself for impact but it never came. Instead I felt a rush of wind across my face and a lightness below me. The ground was getting further and further away.

I realised I was being carried. Looking up, I was face to face with Red Robin.

“God thing I saw you when I did or you’d be dead meat.” He said dryly as we landed on a roof.

“Th-thank you.” I breathed, trying to gulp in as much needed air as I could. “Robin – he –“ But I didn’t know how to articulate. The adrenaline rush was messing with my head, and I could barely think straight.

Yet Red Robin nodded, understanding. He jumped off the roof and shot his grappling hook. I peered down and saw the fight started to move, from the alley to the side walk. The goons cornered Robin into a store front and were relentless as they threw punch after punch. The other 3 that were chasing me were already fighting Red just below the building that he deposited me on.

I watched in horror as the glass shattered everywhere around them. They weren’t just normal gangs I discerned, they knew how to fight. And unlike the birds and bat, they didn’t mind taking a life.

Clutching the projectiles again in my pocket, I brought them up with trembling hands.

“I hope this works.” I whispered to myself and pulled out my elastic hair tie.

Hooking one of the orbs onto the elastic, I aimed for the goons attacking Robin, and pulled as far as the band could go. Willing my hand to stop shaking, I said a silent prayer and released my hold.

Time seemed to go into slow motion as it flew across the air. I held my breath.

It hit the ground between two goons and burst into a big foamy cloud of vibrant cobalt, instantly seizing the men and solidified their prison as the concoction cooled.

Both fights stopped for a split second, as they watched the chemical reaction, which now looking back was a mistake on all parties.

I gasped and thanked whoever was listening.

The leader roared and pulled a pistol. I felt my throat tighten as the gun set a bullet free.

Robin and I cried out in pain as the bullet dug into him. Tears threatened to roll down my cheek as I clutched my burning shoulder.

A birdarang zipped towards the leader, catching his wrist and making him let go of the weapon. With a grunt, Robin kicked him hard across the chest stealing the perpetrators breath and with a quick turn, smashed his foot onto the mans jaw, cracking it before letting him fall with a loud thud.

The fight continued and Robin easily subdued his last opponent. Then he ran across the street to finish up with Red. Both of them moved in fluid motions like well trained dancers as they fought while protecting each others weak spots. They took down the last 3 goons and tied them up just as the police sirens blared within the distance.

I jumped up from my spot and turned to run but stopped when I saw the two Robins in my path.

“You.” The younger one started. “You were the one who shot the…”

I nodded wordlessly, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through my body. A nasty red splotch caught my attention and I believe they both noticed as I glanced at it. My own hand went up and clutched my shoulder unconsciously, a cold sensation rippled through where the bullet was.

“Oh my god.”

---

to be continued...

Part 2, 3, 4, 5 (end)

#Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian x Reader #Soulmate AU #fanfiction #my fanfiction #challenge #DC #Batman #Robin #Red Robin #my fan fiction

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srose-foxfire · 4 years

Text

“First Impressions” Part 3 -Damirae Short Fic-

Part: 1

Part: 2

Part: 3 ⬇️

Damian knew he had to be paying closely attention in class, but his mind was elsewhere. He had his eyes down on his notebook, scribbling nonsense as to make it look, he was actually taking notes. A raven flew by the school’s 4thfloor window and landed next onto a branch causing Damian to turn his attention to the black bird and forget he was in school. The bird squawked and then flew off, clearly spotting something to eat.

The young Wayne let out a silent sigh as he returned his gaze towards his notes and found he had written Raven’s name all over the page. He could feel his blood boil and his face flushed, not wanting anyone see him turn red Damian laid his head onto his sleeved school coat.

“Something the matter Mr. Wayne?” Damian looked up, to find his history teacher, poking her eyes out from the top of the textbook she was holding and lifting a brow at him.

“Nothing.” He simply answered and went back to looking down at his notebook, scribbling some of the words he caught as Mrs. Han continue with the lecture.

-- -- -- --

Damian was glad he wouldn’t had to see any of his peers or his teachers now that Thanksgiving break had started, it only reminded him that the fall semester would soon end and then he would only need to focus on completing his last spring semester as a senior. Already Damian had applied to colleges and universities to please his father, but Damian felt he was ready to take over the family’s company. He has been groomed since a child, but his father insisted Damian have a normal life like any other teen or young adult. Whatever that meant. As he lingered on his thoughts a sudden image appeared across his mind of Raven smiling.

He shook his head and wondered why she was consuming all his thoughts. True he was seeing Raven more often as she hanged out regularly with Cass and Steph over the weekends. They lock themselves in Cass room and do girliethings, Damian could only assume as he would pass by the closed door and hear squeals coming from the other side.

Damian finally heard the story of how his sisters met Raven. Steph and Cass were out on a shopping spree, while he was away with his father on a business trip. The girls were on their own -none of his brothers offered to accompany them- and bought more than they could carry. One thing led to another that both Steph and Cass lost their grip on some on their purchases, resulting most of their brand-new items to scatter across the mall’s floor. No one offered to help, as the two girls scrambled to pick up everything, only a girl dressed in black came to their aid. She showed no amusement to what had happened only concerned and wanted to help to lighten their day. While the other shoppers only laughed at the incident, the raven-haired girl only offered Cass and Steph a gentle smile. Thus, began start of a beautiful friendship.

Damian couldn’t ask his sisters for more intel, for if he continue to pry into their friend both Cass and Step would become suspicious of his questions. He could try and ask Raven some questions in order to learn more about her but that was something he wouldn’t be able to accomplish. Recently Damian has been noticing that every time he had the slightest chance to speak with Raven in private, either his sisters would come into the room and whisk her away from him. Other times when he would find her alone, she would get a call from her mother to return home. It would seem the universe was conspiring against him to ever redeem himself.

-- -- -- --

Perhaps the universe was finally giving Damian a chance. It was a little pass midday on Thanksgiving Day and Damian was seated in the back of the family’s limousine as Alfred drove him towards Raven’s home. She and her mother were invited to celebrate Thanksgiving dinner at Wayne Manor. Ariella, Raven’s mother insisted they cook some of the dishes themselves to contribute to the meal. This pick-up trip had been tasked to Cass and Jason but the two backed down last minute, making Damian go instead.

He didn’t mind since this would be a great opportunity to be alone and just have a decent conversation with her. Already his mind was working on topics they could talk about, he could share his own favorite novels and authors. Recite excerpts he enjoyed, maybe even get a chance and invite Raven to watch a movie the following weekend. He could feel himself smile a bit at the ideas, he then looked up when he felt Alfred pull-over the limousine. His smile soon disappeared at the sight before him:

Raven was hugging an older boy with green hair.

Damian could feel his heart shatter into a thousand pieces, and it hurt.Could that be her boyfriend? He wanted to ask Alfred to return later but knew the old family butler would question him and that was the last thing Damian wanted to do. Was to talk about his feelings.

“Wait for me here Pennyworth.”

“As you wish Master Damian.”

Damian walked over the two young teens, hiding his fists in in trousers pockets. Raven was still hugging the green hair boy and Damian had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from frowning. The hug ended when Damian grunted, Raven and the guys beside her turned around to face him.

“Greetings.” Who the hell says that these days? Damian wanted to punch himself in the face for making himself look like a fool before them. “Pardon, I came to help you bring anything back to the manor?”

“Right.” Raven only smile at him and cleared her throat before gesturing to the guy beside her “Damian this is-”

“Jasper Sky, I presume?” Damian said so naturally as he extended his hand out to him. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Damian’s hand was still in the air, as the guy before him only lifted a brow at him, “Jasper who-now?”

Raven chuckled nervously before adding, “actually Damian, this is an old childhood friend of mine, Garfield Logan.”

“You can call me Gar for short.” Gar said with a smile before giving Damian a hard handshake. “Well it seems you are busy Rae; I hope you and you mom like the quiche. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Bye Gar.” Raven said warmly and Gar returned the gesture with a huge grin on his face. He went to grab a black skateboard and rode down the block before turning on a corner.

Damian looked at Raven from the corner of his eyes, and saw she was still smiling. Seeing her smiling like that only made him want to smile as well, but he couldn’t allow himself since he was still figuring out his damn emotions. Damian turned his hand into a fist, brought it next to his lips before grunting again. “Apologies, I thought… never mind. Do you need help putting the stuff inside the car?”

“Yeah, my mom left everything ready upstairs. You wanna follow me upstairs?”

Damian could only nod and followed Raven into the apartment building. He could see why Cass and Jason bailed on helping load the limousine. Raven’s home was on the fifth floor, and the elevator was out of order making them go up a few flights of stairs. Damian can only hope, he could stack certain dishes together to minimize the ups and downs. Both teens arrived to a dark red wooden door with 405written in paint plastered in the center. Raven took out some very looking worn out keys and opened the door. They entered and Damian couldn’t help himself but examined the home.

It was small, perfect for just two people to live here. The entrance was right into a small hallway, the left side clearly lead to their rooms and straight ahead was a small living room adorned with a white love seat and a small coffee table. In the living room, there was a small flat screen, on the soft light blue painted walls was adorned with assorted picture frames of Raven and her mother. It amazed him how they were both much alike and could see where the black-raven hair girl got her beauty from. Just a little up ahead was a talk mosaic counter splitting the living room to a small kitchen which was decorated with knitted autumn leaves. There was a small wooden table filled with large crystal containers with different prepared dishes.

“Your home is quaint.” Brain stop talking, Damian told himself.

“Thanks… so if you don’t mind grabbing these and…” Raven pointed to some larger containers which had smashed potatoes, string beans, one with macaroni and cheese. Raven busied herself of getting what looked like gravy, rice pudding, and a container filled with chocolate chip cookies. Damian had thought there were more items, but between them two they would be able to take everything downstairs in one trip.

They existed her home, being a gentleman Damian waited for her while Raven locked the door before heading down flight of stairs that waited for them. They were both silent, concentrating on each step they took so not to trip. He wished he could break the silence but all his previous well though-out conversations in the limousine had decided to escape him. Damian was about to call it a defeat when-

“There’s no Jasper Sky.”

Wait what? He had to blink a few times before turning his head to look at her, but Raven kept her amethyst gaze on the steps below her. Her face had become a somber look, like the confession was had been consuming her. “Pardon?”

“I… I don’t have a boyfriend. I made him up.”

He could feel that it was hard for her to confess but the side of him wanting to comfort Raven couldn’t help but add; “I don’t wish to pry but if you need to vent I’m open-”

“Your sisters kind of pinned me to a corner. Short story we were just talking, and something lead to another which resulted of them lining up guys for me to…date. I panicked and made up the idea that I was already seeing someone, making me create Jasper Sky.”

Damian could feel she had more to say and only remained silent to allow her to continue, “I had to confess to someone and well, out of everyone I feel like you would help me come clean to your sisters. Besides I feel you wouldn’t judge me and… arh! I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“No need to feel embarrassed, I could only imagine the predicament my sisters may have put you through and I feel honor you can confide in me.”

“Thank you, Damian. I really appreciate it.” Raven smiled at him, before going up a step and doing something Damian wouldn’t had expected from her. She gave him a light peck on his cheek. “You’re a good friend.”

Raven descended the last few steps and exited the apartment building, unaware that Damian had stopped at the last step of the stairs as he stared off at her. In that moment he wished he wasn’t carrying items in his arms, wanting to touch the cheek she kissed. Raven was opening-up to him and he couldn’t believe he could have a chance to continue getting know about her, all the while supporting her in any way, she made needed him. He would do anything she could ever asked of him. Damian couldn’t help but feel all giddy inside and wanting to shout out load how happy he that the universe was finally giving him a break.

A/N: Hello I hope everyone has been staying safe and well. I apologize for not getting part 3 out sooner and hope you enjoyed this. I busy myself and work hard getting this done and edited today. We are nearing the end to ‘First Impressions’ but this has given a chance for me to create more fics and au’s on Damian and Raven. I am also working on some fics for the Damirae Fanzine so that’s currently my number one priority at the moment. Once I am finished with that I am will be open to take some short Damirae prompts (from you) for me to write and help me better myself as a writer. Till next time and Happy Holidays!

~~Simona R.

#damirae #demonbirds #DC Universe #dc fanfic #damian x raven #raven-x-damian #Damian Wayne #dc damian #raven roth #thanksgivingau #i hope this is good #fanfiction #damirae fan #damiraeau

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