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himezoro · 6 months

Note

Hey

In your last comment ( in love wins all part2) you meant that I could ask you for a story at any time.

My idea would be a story about Zoro in which he first has to admit to himself that he loves the female reader and asks his crew how he can confess his feelings to her and then does it in his usual shy but direct way ^^

We both know he is a big softie at heart x3

tysm for your request and undefeating support, it’s the reason i went back to writing and found the strength to write today. i really hope you’ll enjoy it, and tysm for your patience. i love the introspection your idea offers, it was so fun to write that i added the strawhats as a tool for Zoro to realize his feelings! some parts are before timeskip, and the parts after the timeskip will be mentioned, i hope you’ll enjoy it <3

tw! mention of gender (female) + fluff + sfw!!

wc : 4,31k (i went crazy sorry....)

It was a cool and breezy spring day when Luffy asked you to join the crew. You were a talented strategist during battles and tough times, gifted with a brilliant vision of finding a positive issue to win, while exulting warmth and tenderness, so much that it could tame the devil itself.

And by that, it meant Roronoa Zoro.

The tall swordsman perfectly remembers this day where you officially climbed onto the ship after the events of Enies Lobby, after helping the crew with astute tactics to get Robin back. He was impressed with you back then, by your phlegm and knowledge of the field, your calm, your determination to grant them victory, like you knew them all along, like you loved them all along. It was the love you gave people that allowed your brain to come up with the best solutions. And as a warrior and a solution giver, Zoro was admirative.

Or in trance. Mesmerized. In awe. Struck by an angel. If he were to be honest with himself.

And because Zoro imagined himself talking to you and getting to know what your brain hid, asking about your whereabouts, your culture, your likings and the drinks you drink, he really thought he did.

Yet, other than the casual “Hi”, “Thanks”, “Food’s ready” and “Good night”, the swordsman never uttered a word of what he wished to really share. Was it laziness? Cowardice? Fear? Indeed, he was not the most talkative of the crew, but he knew he could talk to anyone if he wanted to. Hell, he could even talk to the cook.

But when it came to you, he found himself out of breath, and looking at you seemed enough. Seeing you beam at the dinner table while savoring the shitty cook Sanji’s delights, hearing your chatty and bubbly voice when gossiping with Nami and Robin, your laughs when in company of Usopp and Luffy and the soft hums escaping your lips when Brook would play a song. Looking at your plush thighs where Chopper’s head was resting, and the pearl of cola dripping from your pink lips when drinking under the hot weather with Franky.

He both felt like you were a sight bestowed by the Gods for him and forbidden, like the Apple of Eden.

And in magnificent Zoro fashion, he decided to not pay attention and focus on his training.

But even with the best of will, it was hard to pretend you did not exist and that the fluttering in his stomach were not butterflies, especially, on the Thousands Sunny.

THE CAPTAIN, MONKEY D LUFFY

One night, before reaching the Sabaody Archipelago, Zoro was standing quietly by the ocean. His mind was clear from troubles and aches, and he simply stood by the quietness of the sea. You’ve been apart of the crew for what has not been so long, yet, you were fitting beautifully. The way the breeze would caress your hair, the way you would sometimes trip on the ship because of the waves, the way the lemonade you would make tasted so much better than the cook’s. The first time you offered him the said refreshment was the only time he managed to stay close to you. Because you were not leaving, he thought. Or maybe because he was frozen on the spot when you bent down to his sitting/close to napping form and could smell your floral scent.

He was so lost in his thoughts he failed to hear his captain coming.

“Isn’t (Y/N) cool? Like, super cool?” the captain beamed at his first mate and best friend, clapping his feet together as he sat on the rail of the ship. The swordsman did not mind looking his way as he stood by the railing, watching the moon glistening on the ocean.

“I guess, I barely talk to the girl so I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged, hearing your soft giggles from afar as you enjoyed your time with the rest of the crew.

“Well I know she’s cool. And she was so cool when she made all of these plans on her notebook with that fancy swooshing pen thing.” He said, mimicking writing (ndlr : like that light yagami meme lol). “Sanji says she’s pretty. Do you think she’s pretty?”

At that question, Zoro almost chocked on his own air.

“Why would you ask me that? And since when do you Luffy know when people are... pretty?” he said, hoping the moonlit night would hide the pink hue on his cheeks.

“I know when people are pretty! You are pretty! You’re my friend so you’re pretty.” Zoro scoffed at his words, letting his captain talk.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get along super well. Like super buddies. She’s so cool. You should listen to her. Nami said we must listen to her advices during combat or else we EXPLODE!! BOOM!!” he enthusiastically said before jumping off the railing and shaking Zoro’s shoulders before running to pest on someone else.

Zoro stole a glance towards your way and sighed. You did not look pretty. Hell no you didn’t. And to that extent, he disagreed with the cook again. Because you were gorgeous, ethereal. It was beyond being “pretty”, it was beyond being pleasant to look at. You were a gift. And he knew he could keep on looking at you for days if allowed.

And because you caught him looking, you offered him a gentle smile and a wave, which he forgot to reciprocate as he simply nodded and turned back to gazing at the ocean.

I know we would get along well… he sighed, silently wishing he had Luffy’s or Usopp’s social skills to stay by your side.

THE NAVIGATOR, NAMI

Before docking on the Sabaody Archipelago, Nami said it would be nice to dock on a small island to enjoy a day of fun at the beach, which led to having everyone in their bathing suit enjoying the scenery.

Zoro sat on the sand and did not realize his eyes landed on you. You were in the water with chopper on your shoulders, trying to keep steady as you feared for him to fall in the water. Usopp was in front of you with Luffy on his shoulders, trying to make Chopper fall in the water. Zoro claims to not pay attention to the way your (favorite color) bathing suit was perfectly suiting your form. He claims to not pay attention to your wet hair nor to the drops on your eyelids.

“You need a tissue to stop the drooling?” Nami said, standing in front of her crewmate as she put her sunglasses on top of her head.

Zoro glared at her without saying a word, clearly annoyed by the navigator.

“Well if I hadn’t known you were enjoying the view before I would certainly know it now. Would you stop staring at her, you look like Sanji.” she smirked, moving the way as she sat next to him, looking at you as well and smiling.

“Really Zoro you should stop staring, that’s creepy.”

“Did she say anything?” he surprised himself asking. Now at least she stopped blocking the view, and he could go back to “not” pay attention to the way your hand would hold Chopper’s pawn, or the way Usopp would splash water all over your chest.

“Well well well, what do we have here? A request for insights on my girl (Y/N)? By Roronoa Zoro? Is it going to snow in hell? Let me check…” she mischievously snarked, earning a grunt from Zoro in return.

“It’s so funny because I’m sure she talked about you in our quarters a few times ago… or maybe it was in my dream? Maybe your errand money would jog my memory.” she proudly stated, earning another annoyed grunt from Zoro. She looked at him and waited for him to nod his head and wave his hand as a sign for her to continue.

“Thanks for your generosity. And the only thing she said is that you don’t seem to like her because you never talk to her, so she doesn’t want to bother you.”

When he heard what appeared to be your words, he swore his heart broke. How could you reasonably think he doesn’t like you? While you were the only thing on his mind beside training?

“And what did you say… I mean, what did you tell her.” Zoro shyly asked, wondering if his friend Nami did any help.

“Well I did say you hated her, but I’m sure I could tell her you love staring at her like a perv.”

“For fuck sake why would you say stuff like this?!”

“I did not tell her that you idiot!” she said, laughing wholeheartedly. “In fact, I said you were like a bear : terrifying on the outside but kind of nice if you think about it.”

Zoro sighed, instantly feeling sick in the stomach at the idea of you thinking he hated you… or was a perv.

“Why don’t you try talking to her? She’s such a sweet and smart girl, I feel like she was the missing part of this crew. I mean, it’s clear you-

“Do not say that word. I don’t.”

Zoro cut her right off, but that did not stop Nami from stating her piece.

“Fine I’ll use the word fancy. It’s clear you FANCY her. Just because you never had a girlfriend or thought you could like anyone other than your swords or MIHAWKE doesn’t mean you should not act on your feelings right now. Be a normal guy and get her flowers, or I don’t know, you could also just talk.?You know Sanji likes her too right?” she added that last part only to shake Zoro off before leaving with her new found cash.

Zoro kept on looking at you with longing, thinking about what Nami said.

Sanji cannot like her. And how did she know I never had a girlfriend?

THE SNIPER KING, USOPP, AND THE DOCTOR, TONY TONY CHOPPER

Later that night, Zoro decided to sit next to you for dinner. He was set on proving Nami wrong and showing the cook that he did not stand a chance (the poor guy did not get Nami’s joke).

But because Nami is the lively and vibrant human being she is, she, of course, told Usopp and Chopper about her little talk with Zoro.

Which of course, led Usopp to do some teasing, with the help of little

“Hey (Y/N)! What does it feel like finally sitting next to Zoro after weeks of sailing together?” he pried, wiggling his eyebrows at the sight of the two of you sitting together. You smiled and let out a small laugh as you responded.

“Well I have to say, I’m quite flattered. Surprised, but flattered. Zoro is nice to stay with.”

Your voice felt like the greatest of songs, and it only made Zoro’s heart beat faster.

“Wooo wooo!” Usopp cooed, pounding on the table as he did so. “Do I hear a confession in here? Zoro what do you have to say? Isn’t she nice to stay with? Come on just say the magic L word!”

He was so engulfed in his thoughts and the desire to slash Usopp in half, that he did not feel Chopper creep on his lap.

“Your heart is beating really fast right now!” the reindeer said in Zoro’s ear, trying not to embarrass him too much as Usopp was already talking about planning a future wedding.

“Because you guys are giving me a headache”, he angrily uttered, suddenly getting up and leaving the table, not noticing the sad look in your eyes as he turned his back, not looking at you.

After these milestones only a fool would try to deny the blatant truth.

And after the Sabaody incident, only a masochist would refrain and hide these feelings away.

But with Roronoa Zoro, nothing is easier than sweeping his feelings under the rug of Mihawke’s manor.

Nervertheless, being separated from you for those two years only left him with thoughts of you mingling with the ones he felt of guilt. Were you alive? Did you get Luffy’s message? Where were you training? Who were you with? Will you come back to him?

In his quest of longing to be the strongest, he got even more confident, if that could happen. Not only would he never let anything happen to the crew again thanks to his new found abilities, but he swore he won’t let you in any form of danger. Yet, he claims it to himself that protecting you is only his “swordsman way”. Nothing more.

He waited for the day of the reunion with a lot of excitement. Seeing Luffy and Chopper again, sailing the seas to prove himself to the world. He would not say it aloud, but he missed everyone. Yet, his heart led to an unusual feeling. His chest felt knotted. Was it fear? Anxiety? Regret? He caught himself thinking about many scenarios that did not make sense, nonsense he would have smacked someone’s head for. What if you decided to leave the crew and stay where you were? What if you forgot about him, since his past relationship with you failed to be the most intimate one? What if you hated him and thought of him as weak? What if he never saw you again?

Why does it matter, anyway.

The D-Day was approaching, and Zoro’s questions only grew more and more.

And as the Day finally arrived, he looked at the Sabaody scenery and let out a deep sigh, but the small smile on his lips never left. Each step he took were different from those he took two years ago: he was determined, stronger.

He would not admit it to himself, but he was worried you won’t show up to the ship. He also was worried he won’t be able to talk to you like he wished to.

During his walk to find the Sunny, he stumbled across the last person he wanted to see first.

THE COOK, SANJI VINSMOKE

Even though Zoro disliked the cook, he had to admit he was reassured to see his fellow comrade in good shape. But that feeling quickly faded the second the Cook started speaking.

“And here I thought a musclehead like you couldn’t understand nor form a sentence.”

“And here I thought you might have learnt to use twizzlers in those two years but well. Nothing’s new here.”

The pair had no choice but to walk together, which surprisingly led to somewhat of a conversation, even though neither looked at the other. Zoro was walking with his bag over his shoulder while Sanji smoked his cigarette.

“So you trained with Ivankov?”

“I tried to escape everytime which turned out well. I can fly now with my technique, which I’m sure (Y/N)-chwan would love! Think about it, this could be really useful in defense combat. I will be useful for (Y/N)-chwaaan, and Nami-chwaaan and Robin-chwaaan.” The cook chanted, only to earn Zoro’s deep and usual silence, which lasted for what seemed to be a while.

In spite of being used to Zoro’s quietness and awkward silence, the cook noticed the sudden shift in his behavior once your name was mentioned. Call him curious or accuse him of having a death wish, but he decided to break the ice.

“Hey, mosshead.”

The swordsman did not bother to answer and kept on walking.

“Did you miss anyone in particular during those two years?”

“Yes, my hammock.” he quickly answered, his usual sass coming back as a defense mechanism Sanji swore not to fall for this time.

“See?” Sanji said, pointing his cigarette towards his crewmate, still walking. “That’s exactly why no one wants to approach you. You’re brute. How do you expect people to let you in if you don’t let them in in the first place?”

“Who said I wanted to let any people in? I don’t care about people.”

“You know who I’m talking about here. I have eyes. We all have eyes.”

“Technically Brook doesn’t and I only have one left.” he corrected, looking at the cook’s annoyed face with his good eye. “And for the reminder, I can understand sentences just fine, you talked about people, not (Y/N).”

Sanji smirked: the cook had won.

“Indeed. I never talked about beautiful (Y/N). You just did, though." he cockily pointed. "If I were you, which I’m not thank God, I would take her hand, squeeze it and tell her a poem. That’s it if you can read.”

“Tsk.”

Sanji lit himself another cigarette to savor his small victory. Zoro bit the inside of his cheek and averted his gaze to the scenery around him again.

Did he just tell the cook about you? When he was talking about “letting people in”? He would lie if he said he did not want you to let him in. He thought you were a strong woman with admirative skills. He thought you were kind and caring, with a high sense of ethics and fairness. He thought you were beautiful. You were his ideal, the sole reason why he never bothered looking at women before.

But why would someone like you let someone like him, in? Sanji was right: he was a brute. And spending time with his swords medidating for two years did not make him a social animal. He lacked Usopp’s ease or Luffy’s communicative smile. He lacked Sanji’s ability to compliment women or make them feel beautiful. Hell, he remembers his conversation with Nami like it was yesterday: you thought he hated you.

Would it be unfair for a brute like him to long for someone like you? Does he have the right to hold these feelings? Is he allowed to share them to you?

The poor boy did not have time to find his answer that Luffy had found them.

He would soon see you. He felt it. And by that time, he better come up with something other than “Hi”.

When they arrived to the ship alongside their Captain, everyone was already here waiting for them.

Including you.

Before fully looking at you, Chopper jumped on him, crying his heart out from having missing him too much. Unfortunately for him, the swordsman did not pay attention to all his ranting as you approached to enthusiastically hug Luffy, Sanji, and him.

Because of the awkward position he was in with Chopper, you gently wrapped your arms around the small reindeer and told them both how happy you were to see them. And because of his cute comrade, he did not have the chance to say “Hi”.

He missed his opportunity, the chance to finally let you in.

Perhaps it is better this way.

Everyone climbed onto the ship, ready to celebrate the reunion, and even though the best sake was provided, Zoro quickly walked to a small and intimate area: his crow nest.

THE STRATEGIST, (YOUR NAME) ♡

Two years without seeing your friends were long to pass, without hearing their laughters and benters, their antics and adventures. Even though you joined the crew at later times before being teleported by Kuma, you dearly loved each crewmate and felt apart of a big family.

During those two years, you sometimes caught yourself thinking about the swordsman. To say the green-haired figure rarely talked to you would be an understatement, and you never understood why. You never were mean to him, you let him nap during night watch, you poured him lemonade, smiled at him each time he would look at you.

You admired his strength, his determination, his oath to become the best in his craft. You were honored to conceive combat strategies that would enhance his abilities and show them to the world.

He was the legend to the story you were writing. The hero.

It would be lying to say you did not fancy the swordsman. He was handsome, peaceful, intelligent when in need, and reassuring. He was confident, opinionated and reliable.

Your heartbeat grew faster as you saw him walking towards the ship with Sanji and the captain. He looked even taller than in your memories, and even more built. His hair seemed softer, and his voice much huskier. Your heart ached when you noticed he had lost an eye.

But because everyone was around, you could not possibly go to him and cry your eyes out as you talked about his injury. Instead, and because you were so happy to see everyone, you decided to go for a small hug, hopping it would offer you both a fresh start.

After the feast following your reunion, you noticed Zoro walking out to his favorite spot. Pretending to be in need of the ladies room, you decided to follow the swordsman to the crows nest, set on trying to finally, communicate with the future best swordsman on the Planet.

When Zoro heard someone going up the crows nest, he did not pay attention. For this once, would he allow someone to go up unannounced.

“Pardon me Zoro!” you said while climbing, breaking his composure. Out of everyone he thought would come up tonight, he never thought it would be you. He could not even figure out what to come up with first as he saw the top of your head from the top of the ladder and your adorable eyes peeking up to him.

You waited to have fully climbed the ladder before talking.

“Hi, I hope I’m not bothering.” You gently said with a radiant smile on your face, standing in front of him in your newest outfit. He felt ashamed for not taking in all the details of your new attire earlier under the sunlight, from the way it hugged your form to the way the color compliments your eyes.

“Actually, I’ve never been up here before.. it looks.. nice?” you said, your eyes going from the surroundings of his room to his good eye.

He looks handsome.

She looks gorgeous.

“Then what are you doing here now?” Zoro responded, harsher than what he intended. He instantly regretted his sentence and his tone. These were so distant from what he felt.

His words sent shivers down your spine and made you gasp a little, slowly looking down to your feet in embarrassment.

He looked down at you with his good eye and quickly shook his hands.

“N-No (Y/N) this is so not what I meant. Gosh now I understand why Sanji said I was a brute and Nami said you hated me.”

“What? Nami said I hated you?” you asked, your head going back up and looking at him with concern. “I could never hate you Zoro! Why would she say something like this?”

“N-No!” he said, trying to correct his wording, again, but it seemed harder after hearing what you felt about him.

You could never hate him.

“I mean, she said you thought I hated you. No wonder why you think that, I’m a brute.”

In spite of his awkward phrases, you let out a small giggle. His tan face was tainted with shades of a dusty shy pink, and his good eye was desperately trying to connect with yours. Maybe if you would look at him for just long enough, he would not have to say a thing.

You walked closer to him, trying to pierce what his eye was begging to tell you. You could feel the shift in the air, the tension building high. Your voice, soft as silk and sweet as honey, asked.

“So, Zoro, do you hate me?”

The question sent him in a trance. In his mind, he told you a hundred times about how beautiful you looked and how admirative he was of your work on the ship. In his mind, he told the world and the stars a hundred times about his will to protect you and be the strongest.

His body ached to be closer to yours. It was only the two of you, and it seemed so natural. So real. He slowly inched closer to you, his overpowering frame letting yours aware of his presence and scent. Wood and peppermint.

Crossing his arms and closing his eyes, faking tiredness, hoping his demeanor would hide the shyness away, he bluntly stated:

“I could never hate you, (Y/N).”

Five words. These five words alone lifted a whole weight off your shoulders. Slightly blushing from his statement and the proximity you two were in, in what seemed like a forbidden whisper, you said, gently touching his hand.

“I… I should probably go downstairs. The others are going to wonder why I’m taking so long to get you to drink sake with us. They’ll think you got sober.”

Zoro slightly scoffed and nodded, his eyes never leaving the tenderness of your touch on his large hand.

“Promise me you’ll come back later. Just you.”

His wish was spoken with such adoration and secrecy, you won’t ever refuse. But teasing the swordsman seemed a little more fun.

“By later, do you mean in two years? Who knows maybe by that time you’d have lost your other eye.”

Zoro laughed a little, gently squeezing your hand like an oath spoken just for the two of you.

“Like I would ever let you go again for so long, idiot.”

#one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece imagine #one piece headcanon #roronoa zoro #headcanons #one piece headcanons #opla x reader

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

With Sweet Understanding (Handsome Jack x Female!Reader) pt. 6

My apologies to like the 5 people reading this that this chapter took so long. Steamy, kinky sex scene coming in chapter 7 for your troubles.

Reader tries to get settled in her new office but her romantic interests have other plans.

BIG Trigger warnings: Physical abuse, reactive abuse, misogynist language, workplace sex discrimination

“Damn, you were not kidding about this ergonomic chair.” Jack said, digging his entire back into your new boss chair, making it creak. “This is the shit I do like.”

“Could you ever picture yourself in an office like this?” You asked. You leaned against the desk while his fingers tapped away at your new desktop keyboard.

“Not this one.” He scoffed. “I’m going to the top floor, cupcake. None of this mid-level crap.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll take that as a congratulations.”

“Yeah, I don’t think the guy who had this office before knew how to update the operating system.” He commented, pulling out a fresh cigarette.

You folded your arms and frowned. “Are you kidding me?”

“Wish I was, darling.” He balanced the cigarette between his teeth and flicked the lighter on. “This puppy’s due for about fifteen years worth of updates. May as well settle in. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“And there’s no way to streamline the updates?” You asked.

Jack swiveled towards you, leaning back low in your chair. “Well, we can certainly make time go faster if you bend over that desk and let me fuck you until you see stars.”

You smirked. “Sorry, man. That was a one-time thing.”

"One-time things generally don't happen three or four more times over the course of a week and a half." He said, twirling a pencil between his fingers.

"Okay." You rolled your eyes. "It was a one-time thing that happened at least four times."

"Yeah," he scoffed. "At least. I'd say closer to like, seven or eight-"

"Okay, Jack, thank you-"

You tried to cut him off, but he just kept talking. "There was that time in the chair, then the second time in the server room, then behind the vending machine-"

"That was two weeks ago." You corrected. "I remember because we just had the monthly shareholders meeting and Tassiter made me keep notes cause my replacement didn't show up."

“Regardless, I’m not overly familiar with workplace sexual etiquette,” He said, kicking his feet up on the desk. “But I also know there are plenty of other people you could have called in to run a few dozen OS updates on your crappy desktop.”

“An astute observation.” You nodded. "Yes, if sex was the extent of our relationship, I'd probably avoid you at all costs. But, you continued to help me even after sex. And it had a tangible effect on my career. One I couldn’t have done without you.”

“Oh, please.” He waved his hand dismissively, a cloud of smoke from his cigarette tracing the motion. “I just wanted to fuck with Tassiter. Helping you came second.”

“Whatever your intentions, no good deed goes unpunished.” You smiled. “Part of my new job is scouting underutilized talent from within the company. People who, say, come up with brilliant, innovative ways to expand Hyperion’s influence.”

This caught his attention. He turned towards you and leaned in. “I’m listening.”

“And there’s this really talented programmer I know who invented something that has endless practical applications.” You continued. “But he doesn’t want to do anything with it until he knows he��ll get the proper credit.”

He looked down to obscure the excitement on his face. “Luckily, he has a friend in operations management who owes him a favor.”

“That he does.” You nodded. “All he would need to do is come up with a way to explain the program in layman’s terms, she could create a soft pitch, they could run it by accounting and then present the idea at the shareholder’s meeting next week.”

“But say your friend works for a soul-murdering corporation, under the thumb of a pedo fascist dictator with a sad little goatee." He objected, his voice rising and falling as he tried to reign in his enthusiasm. "How would he know that this sentient pile of human excrement won't just yoink the idea out of his hands and pass it off as his own?"

"Well, as it happens, I have been working directly under said pedo fascist dictator and his sad little goatee for years." You explained. You were just happy that your years of dry clerical work weren't a total waste.

"If he doesn't hate you as much as he hates everyone else, that's about as much of an in as we're going to get." Jack nodded along.

You held up a finger. "And I also know him well enough to know what his priorities are."

He extended his hand, cigarette balanced between his fingers. "And they are..?"

"Getting as much return on as minimal an investment as possible." You answered, squeezing your hand into a fist as if that somehow emphasized your point. "After Blake bled the company dry for shit investments, the board thought an outside hire with a finance background would be economically prudent."

"We need to dress up this project as a low-risk high-reward investment as best we can, then." He concluded, gnawing on his bottom lip. "And we have until…"

"Next Tuesday." You finished. "Four days."

He pulled the chair into the desk and sat up. "Boil up some Mountain Dew, [F/N]. It's gonna be a busy four days."

"'Boil up some Mountain Dew'?!" You repeated, grabbing the back of the chair and yanking him away from the desk. "You're nasty and I'm not your secretary. Get out of my chair."

You gave the chair a shove, unceremoniously dumping his skinny ass on the ground.

"Sorry, I got a little ahead of myself." He laughed, pulling himself to his feet. "Won't happen again, cupcake."

"Yeah, I'm sure of it." You chuckled. "Whatever. I'm going to get my laptop. Find somewhere else to sit and start writing out that report."

He saluted with two fingers. "Yes ma'am."

You shut the door behind you, almost certain that you would have to shove him out of your chair again.

“Hey, [F/N]!”

A familiar voice sounded out, reminding you of the lone loose end you’d been dreading having to tie up. Amos was standing in the door of his own office, which was located conveniently across from yours.

“Oh.” You said, trying and failing to not come off as passive-aggressive and bitter. “Hi.”

He took your acknowledgement of his presence as an invitation to walk beside you. “Hey.”

“So you got a promotion?” He asked, in that way that you knew he was only doing so out of obligation. “That’s pretty neat.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, looking for a way out of this conversation. “I got the office with the fast travel station.”

“So it was Tassiter you were cheating on me with, I take it?” He jabbed. “I mean, I don’t blame you. A girl’s got to make her way in a man’s world somehow, right?”

You just picked up your walking speed and hurried ahead, not even dignifying him with a response. Amos wasn't the first to suggest you'd slept your way up, and he certainly wouldn't be the last. You were more insulted that he thought it was some kind of uniquely devastating hot take, and not something you'd been hearing your entire working life.

“Oh, come on, [F/N]!” He called out, rushing after you. “Don’t be like that.”

“Do you have any idea how sexist you are?” You asked, storming towards the elevator. “You get a high-ranking executive position after wasting my wages on crappy startups for the last four years and you’ve earned it. And when I get a promotion after four years of employment, I’m the one sleeping with the boss. You're such a prick, Amos."

You felt a rush of exhilaration, like a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

"Jesus, no need to get all bitchy on me." He said. "It was just a joke."

"It wasn't funny." Your voice was firm.

He put up his hands. "I guess I'll just never speak again, then."

You smiled at the thought of him finally shutting up for good. "Sounds like a great plan."

"Fine." He said, immediately going back on his promise to not speak. "Can I at least come by after work and get the rest of my shit?"

"Not until next week." You shook your head. "I've got tons of work to do here and I won't be home until late."

"Oh, working late." He rolled his eyes. "Sure, I know what that's code for."

"By all means, keep being a chauvinist." You threw your hands up. "I'll just throw your shit in a box and set it on fire, how about that?"

"For someone with visible hickeys on your neck, you seem very defensive."

You stopped and placed your hand over your neck. There were no obvious marks, but your reaction told him everything he needed to know.

“Oh, don’t get so smug.” You snapped. “It was the day after I threw you out.”

“The day after I asked you to marry me and you rejected me in front of the entire company?” He asked.

“Yep.” You answered, popping your ‘p’. “Those two events happened on the same day, so by the communicative property-”

He folded his arms. “Who is it?”

“None of your fucking business. We’re not a thing anymore.” You switched your neck as you spoke.

“If you don’t tell me who it is, I’m going to assume it’s Tassiter.” He threatened.

“Fine.” You shrugged. “You and everyone else in this fucking company. I’m used to it by now.”

“It is suspicious that a secretary can become a manager overnight.” He said, again, as if he had some unique observation that had to be said. “People are going to wonder how it happened.”

You didn’t have the bandwidth to come up with a witty retort or raise your voice. He hardly deserved a response at all, but you couldn’t not have the last word. You found your laptop bag resting on the chair of your old desk and scooped it up.

“It happened because I made an ally instead of only thinking about myself.” You said, balancing your laptop bag on your hip. “Now, kindly fuck off. I have a lot of work to do, and very little time to do it.”

“Oh my god.” He said, eyes widening. “It’s that programmer, isn’t it?”

You were finished. You hurried ahead, making a beeline for your office. Amos followed close behind you like the entitled piece of shit he was. You pushed open the door with full intent to slam it in his face, but he forced his way through.

“Hey, pumpkin, new plan.” Jack said, predictably still in your chair and staring blankly at the desktop monitor while a cigarette burned away between his lips. “I sit on the chair and you sit on my lap-- oh, shit.”

“Wow.” Amos said, crossing his arms. You could tell by the way he was clenching his jaw that he was incensed. “Wow fucking wow.”

“Hey, sweet cheeks.” Jack stood up from your chair. He briefly glanced at you before approaching Amos with a swagger in his step. “This guy bothering you?”

“Jack, please.” You pleaded. Amos was already fuming, and Jack was about as unpredictable as they come. If you didn’t step in, hands would be thrown. “Please, don’t start.”

“Oh, so it's Jack now, is it?” Amos said, looking suspiciously down at his knuckles. “Care to explain yourself, Jack?”

Jack tried to step forward. "Nothing to explain, Rhodes. She dumped you."

"Amos." You said through clenched teeth, turning to face him and attempting to wedge yourself between the two of them. "Walk away."

Amos disregarded you entirely. His tunnel vision was set on Jack. "Congratulations, you peaked. You fucked a woman. But you are just the rebound, boy. You'll never amount to anything more than your shitty code and the fact that just once a woman was mad enough at her boyfriend to let you touch her. That's it. Take a bow and exit stage right, John."

"Amos!" You scolded, trying to make yourself larger and more intimidating. "I said that's enough."

"Oh, princess." He said through gritted teeth. "That's adorable coming from you-"

You braced yourself for the impact of the back of his hand against your cheek, but it didn't happen. You slowly opened your eyes and saw Jack holding Amos's wrist in place, and Amos, to your surprise, struggling to free himself.

"Yeah, that's not how this is gonna go, princess." Jack's voice was soft, but threatening. He tightened his grip on Amos's wrist, no doubt as payback for what he did to you. It wasn't until you heard Amos wince that you noticed Jack wasn't just squeezing. "We don't raise our hands to women."

"Ah-!" Amos cringed. You heard the joints in his wrist pop as Jack forced his hand backwards. You stepped back, unsure of what you were even watching but unable to look away.

The words were on the tip of your tongue: "stop" and "you're hurting him", but they didn't come out. You didn't want them to come out. You didn't even bother to look distressed.

The scene ended with a loud crack and a scream. Jack released his grip, and Amos's hand dangled limply off his wrist. He cradled his most certainly broken wrist in his opposite hand, looking like he was about to pass out from pain.

Jack only smirked, proud of his handiwork. "Off you go, now. And be sure to tell nurse Nina how it was you got your wrist broken. She'll probably break the other one for me."

Clinging to his last strands of dignity, Amos left. Even in the newly acquired privacy, you couldn't think of anything to say. You just wringed your hands together and tried to deny all you felt.

He took one last puff from his cigarette before smothering it against the desk and discarding it into the wastebasket. Then, he set his sights on you, picking up on your fear like a shark following a trail of blood. He slowly approached you, his usual smirk accompanied by dark, lustful eyes.

One look and you knew exactly his intentions. Justice excited him. No, violence excited him. And, given the rush of exhilaration you got seeing your horrible ex run away with his tail between his legs, that was something you had in common. It was too overwhelming to deny.

#Handsome Jack #handsome jack x reader #handsome jack x you #borderlands #borderlands 2 #borderlands tps #Borderlands The Pre Sequel #tw abusive partner #tw reactive abuse #tw physical violence

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theeslytherinslut · 4 years

Text

12 Grimmauld Place (5/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black (post Azkaban) x reader, Remus Lupin x reader’s brother, Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader

Word Count: 2,909

Warnings: lil angsty

A/N: The longest chapter yet and it’s entirely in Sirius’ perspective! Hope I wasn’t too far off from his inner monologue. Also lots of spicy Tonks cause I love her.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

Sirius’ POV

Feeling intrusive, I caught Tonks’ eyes as Remus and Y/N hugged each other, her sobbing into his shoulder. With a quick twitch, I signaled to her that we let them have a moment. She nodded and followed me into the living room.

“Still haven’t gotten around to cleaning anything, have you?” she teased, gesturing to the layer of dirt and dust that seemed to cover every inch of the house.

“Whenever you feel up to joining in...” I teased back.

“Well, it looks like you’ll have Y/N to help you with that,” she responded, raising her eyebrows at me in a funny way.

“What?” I asked.

“Y/N,” she looked at me meaningfully. But not knowing what she meant, I stared blankly back. “You men--it’s a wonder you make it up in the morning by yourselves...Obviously, her flat is no longer safe. She’ll have to stay out of sight for a while too. What better place to both be safe and stay out of sight than here?”

“Stay here?” I asked dumbly. Sure, I figured she’d stay the night, but it never occurred to me that this would be the best place for her. But now that Tonks pointed it out, it did make sense. Not like she could go back to her blown flat; besides, she was vulnerable there. Vulnerable and alone.

“Yes, cousin. Are you alright?” she laughed at my bewildered state, but I didn’t find it so funny. It was difficult to ignore my feelings for her when I wasn’t seeing her every day. How was I supposed to manage now?

At school, it was easier to manage. In the hallways, I’d look at anyone but her, smirking at any girl I caught looking at me, any sort of distraction. But when Moony wanted to go have a chat with her, well, I’d have to plainly look away, instead contenting myself with glaring at passing male members of her house, daring any of them to speak up or look at her.

Remus had made his views very clear in the year of her arrival. He’d been gushing about since first year, always saying how she’d enjoy something or another. I still remember her terrified face during Sorting dissolving into a bright smile when her eyes found us seated at the Gryffindor table. Remus waved excitedly at her from his seat, the rest of us doing the same--all hoping she’d soon join us. However, upon seeing the rest of us with him, her face turned bright red, and her eyes went terrified once more. Before I could even shoot her a reassuring smile, she’d turned back to McGonagall. Unfortunately, she’d been placed in Slytherin, something we never let poor Moony forget. That night in the common rooms after everyone else had long gone to bed, he’d made us all swear to never lay a finger on her--to essentially be another three big brothers--never to look at her in any sort of way. Of course we all made the promise, but I couldn’t honor it.

I still found myself scouring the Great Hall for her face at mealtimes, ducking around shelves in the library in between classes looking for her. I always made sure to be on my best behavior in front of Remus, but behind his back, my eyes couldn’t wait to hungrily devour his sister. Her witty remarks as some Gryffindor teased her, her filthy mouth when a fellow Slytherin made the wrong comment--and just when I thought I couldn’t fall for her any more deeply, I’d caught her hexing a Gryffindor in the corridor. The poor bloke came out a few seconds later, clutching his jaw and nose, both of which were expanding at an alarming rate. She came skipping round the next moment, smiling broadly at her achievement. It was all I could do not to kiss her right then.

“Sirius?” Tonks asked, pulling me from my memories.

“Sorry, yes?” I asked, trying not to appear as anxious about it all as I was.

“What’s your problem?” she asked. Looking at her, I weighed my options. On the one hand, the only living soul who knew about how I felt about Y/N was now no longer, in fact, living. On the other, keeping it such a secret allowed me to continue in my friendship with Moony. Lovely as she was, I couldn’t have anything come between us. Not when we were the only ones left.

“I--” I started to begin the story, but upon remembering James, I stopped. “Nothing.”

“Sirius,” Tonks started, an offended look on her face. “I am your cousin. You tell me right now, or I’ll go get Remus, and he will.”

“You would, wouldn’t you,” I said, a fond smile coming on my face as I looked at her.

“I most certainly would.” she threatened. With her hands on her hips, I was suddenly reminded strongly of Mrs. Weasley, which only made my smile bigger. “Now, go on and tell me, you grinning git!”

“Alright, lower your voice. Can you keep a secret?” I asked, looking at my hands.

“Course I can,” she indignantly responded.

“Well, there’s a, a slight--er, problem, with Y/N staying,” I said quietly, keeping an ear out for her sniffles.

“Problem? What problem? Not like you don’t have enough rooms. Or is it you fancy her or something?” she said, laughing. I kept quiet, and after a moment or two, realization began dawning on her face.

“Oh, but Sirius, she’s Remus’ sister!” Tonks said, looking at me scoldingly.

“Don’t you think I know that, Nymphadora?” I barked, angry that she responded the way I feared.

At the sound of her birth name, her hair began burning bright red, and I retreated.

“Sorry, it’s just--I know, okay? I’m very much well aware of the fact she is Remus’ sister. Why do you think I’ve kept my distance all these years?” I said.

“Likely cause you were in Azkaban,” she pointed out. I gave her a nasty look, and she smiled softly. “Next time, don’t use my full name.”

I rolled my eyes and began anxiously pacing the floors. This was wrong; this was all wrong. The one girl Remus said was off-limits. All he let me get away with all those years at Hogwarts. With a fresh pang of guilt, I recalled a put-out looking Remus looking at me while I talked to a tall, blonde Ravenclaw during Charms. It was only years after I learned he’d had a thing for her--but to my defense, I’d have backed off without a complaint if he’d only told me.

“All these years?” Tonks said, liking working things out in her head. “Surely that doesn’t mean...since Hogwarts?”

“Yes,” I admitted miserably. “Since her first year.”

“First year?” she shouted.

“Keep down your voice.” I hissed at her, pausing to hear Remus speaking softly to Y/N.

“Sorry,” she winced. “But really, since first year and you’ve never said anything?”

“Well, I couldn’t. Remus made us all swear to leave her alone--and bloody hell, was that a job. After school, it was easier, once I was able to keep my distance. Out of sight, out of mind, as the Muggles say. Sorry, you know how Arthur loves his Muggles.” I laughed as she gave me a funny look. “And then--as you so astutely pointed out--I was in Azkaban. So it really hasn’t been a problem these last few years.”

“But now she’s living in your house,” she pointed out.

“Precisely,” I responded, running a hand over the scruff on my face. She remained quiet, looking thoughtful for a few minutes before responding.

“Well, this is just bloody ridiculous. You’ve got to do something,” she said.

“Do something? Do what? How could I betray Remus like that? He’s the only one left, Tonks. How am I supposed to betray him this way, especially after James, and then all the time apart, and then managing to let Peter slip through our fingers? I can’t do this to him.” I reasoned, beginning to harden my resolve.

“Oh, you are bloody ridiculous, you know that?” she sighed, running her fingers through her now bubblegum-pink hair.

“Excuse me?” I said, stopping my pacing to glare at her.

“Bloody ridiculous!” she repeated, “Sirius, that was years ago. That was a feeble promise forced to be made by an older brother before his friends got horny and couldn’t think straight.”

“What?” I said, pulling a face as I considered her words.

“Remus made you all promise that so young so she wouldn’t become a plaything of yours, especially when the both of you turned out to be such whores.” Tonks laughed.

“Whores? I was not a whore! And certainly not James, why after fifth year I don’t think I ever heard so much as a comment about any girl besides Lily.” I defended the both of us, vaguely aware of how I’d ridiculously brought my hands to my hips in indignation.

“Sirius, you’re family, you know I love you--but Merlin, you were the biggest sodding slut the whole of Gryffindor has ever seen! I’d bet there isn’t a room in the castle you haven’t done something naughty in.” she laughed once more. I opened my mouth to protest, but couldn’t come up with a room fast enough--only proving her point.

“Now, you two are not schoolchildren anymore. You are a grown man, Sirius. There’s no need to honor such a trivial and unnecessary pact.” She took a step towards me and put her hand on my cheek, dropping her voice. “Think of how much you’ve suffered, Sirius. Think of what you’ve lost; think of who you have lost. Remus has suffered the same loss. He lost James just as you did, but he also lost you. He thought you’d gone bad, thought Peter dead--James and Lily were dead. And then, years later, you return--innocent. You came back to him, and he, you. Things like that change a man. I’m sure there’s no one on this planet he trusts more with his sister than you. Don’t sacrifice your happiness for one more minute, cousin. Especially not when things look so similar to how they looked before, back when it all went wrong. Don’t waste another minute; I’m not going to either.”

Shaken at her words, I remained quiet for a few moments. So much had changed since that night in Gryffindor tower. Maybe he wouldn’t mind the idea so much anymore. Besides, he trusted me enough to keep her safe.

My happiness...I’d never given the idea much thought, never considered it much of a possibility after being imprisoned. Never had reason to since. But now, my brain was swimming with possibilities.

“Hang on,” I said, remembering the end of her monologue. “You aren’t going to either?”

She cursed under her breath before looking at me.

“Noticed that, did you?” she grimaced. I merely looked at her expectantly. “Alright, fine. Can you keep a secret?”

“I mean, if I outed you, you could just out me,” I pointed out.

“True, alright. Well, it’s Remus,” she whispered, avoiding my eyes.

“You and Remus?” I asked, frowning in thought.

“And what about it?” she said, looking at me testily.

“Well, nothing really. It’s just I never thought about it...are you sure?” I asked after a moment. I loved them both, but the thought had never even crossed my mind once. Surely if there was something between my cousin and my best friend, I’d have suspected something by now.

“Of course I’m sure, you git,” she hissed at me.

“So then why aren’t you together?” I asked. I couldn’t think of any reason they shouldn’t be if they both felt that way. Not like I had a sit down with the lot of them about not dating her.

“Because he too is being ridiculous. Refuses to even look at me most of the time. Says I’m too young, says I deserve better than him.”

“Better than Moony? Good luck with that one, cousin.” I laughed, shaking my head at the thought.

“That’s what I keep saying, but he’ll hear none of it. Says I deserve better than a shabby, poor old werewolf.” she rolled her eyes.

“Is that really what he thinks of himself as? A shabby old werewolf?” I asked, sad for my friend. If anybody deserved happiness, it was Remus. Before she could answer, we heard him calling.

“Pads?” I suddenly heard. He entered the room alone, smiling softly at the two of us.

“Hey, mate.” I smiled at him, opening my arms once more. Remus had always grudgingly accepted my affection, which only made me more inclined to give it knowing it bothered him. And as I knew he would, he rolled his eyes and smiled as he accepted.

“Perhaps we should stay...” Remus said, looking to Tonks and then back to the kitchen.

“Ooh no, you don’t. We’ve got to go, cut up sister or not. Besides, who better to take care of her than Sirius? Isn’t as if he’s got anything better to do. Perhaps she could persuade him in actually cleaning something in this wretched house.” Tonks added, gesturing to filth. I glared at her but remained silent; she was right. The house was filthy, but it was painful enough to be here, let alone restore the bloody thing.

“Suppose you’re right...” Remus said after a moment, “Take good care of her, Pads.”

“Course I will, Moony. Always took good care of you, didn’t I?” I jeered.

“Not bloody likely! And don’t you go taking credit for that, that was all Madam Pomfrey,” he scolded, wagging his finger at me like he used to as a Prefect. “The group of you could hardly stand to sit still in the hospital wing for half an hour, let alone get me through a transformation!” As Remus told his story, Tonks looked at him with a funny look, and with an alarming pang, I realized Y/N often shot me the very same look. Did that mean she felt for me as Tonks felt for Remus?

“That is bang out of order, mate! I worked hard at becoming an Animagi! Took years, it did. Don’t remember seeing Madam Pomfrey out trotting about with a teenage werewolf. Besides, kept your arse out of trouble!” I bantered back, smiling jovially.

“Oh, it just as easily could’ve gotten me in trouble,” Remus shook his head at the memories.

“But it didn’t, did it?” I teased, “You know you loved it just as much as we did, Moony. Try as you might to remain all high and mighty. Ickle Prefect Moony,” I jeered, poking at him as he laughed.

“Alright, alright. C’mon, let’s go before the two of you really start down memory lane. We’ve got to meet Dumbledore.” Tonks said, gently steering Remus towards the door.

“Hang on, you’re going to Hogwarts?” I asked. I couldn’t help but be jealous.

“Briefly. That wretch woman gets nosy when we’re there for more than a quick pop in.” Remus said; the disgusted look on his face told me he meant Umbridge.

“Ah, well, say hello to Harry for me if you see him. I hear the little scamp likes roaming round nearly as much as we did.” I smiled after them.

“That he does; I still remember catching him with that map...I don’t even know how he got ahold of it. James would’ve been so proud, out in the dark corridors taunting Snape. Like father, like son.” Remus smiled fondly at the memory before hanging his head slightly and ambling off to join Tonks. My chest hurt at the mention of James and Harry, and I was once more painfully reminded of my solitude. What I wouldn’t give to see James again...

I followed them to the door, waving goodbye as the two of them popped out of sight. I stared longingly at the spot where they’d disapparted.

Standing in place, I gave myself a moment to gather my thoughts before returning to the kitchen.

Tonks had made many good points, but were they just good because I was looking for any kind of reason to be with her? Did they actually make sense, or was I just looking for an out?

Remus had only made us promise once in the wee hours of the morning in the Gryffindor common room. Besides, if family was off-limits, well, that made him a right hypocrite, didn’t it? He did leave her here with me though, with the promise I’d take good care of her. That meant, to some degree, Remus trusted me with her. Would I be breaking that trust by going with my gut with Y/N?

Good and evil continued to argue on my shoulders, but if I waited for a decision, I might be here for years.

What’s more, was she even interested in me? I mean, sure, I’d caught her staring in school--but that was years ago; a lot had changed since then. But then there was the blush that always colored her cheeks every time I said something cheeky, the relief on her face when I’d met her in the port key room. Surely she wouldn’t let someone she detested bathe her, right?

I resolved to simply flirt. If that went well, then she felt something too. And if she felt something too...well, let me not get ahead of myself.

*******************************

Taglist: @geeksareunique @fredweasleysbitchh @green-intervention @stopbeingcurious

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the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo · 3 years

Text

Missed Opportunities - Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 2

Here it is! I'm managed to whip up another part to this story. I hope you all enjoy this next bit!

If you missed out on Part 1, it's here.

Word Count: 2300 and some change

-----

Side Note: Obviously, I have taken some liberties with the plot and timeline of TFATWS. So this will be loosely based on the timings of what has happened, but will not be a chronological order of events occurred.

Much love to you, and thank you for the inspiration! And yes, there will be a Part 3 because this was more of a set-up chapter. So hopefully you won't be too disappointed with this one.

~Sandra~

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As things turned out, your conversation with Bucky and Sam went surprisingly well. Once you were finally able to say your own piece and explain the entire story, a lightbulb seemed to have gone off within both of them.

Sam, of course, was the most understanding, realizing that the reaction Zemo had was surely due to the intense trauma of what happened. He went on to explain; he had seen those types of emotional outbursts between complete strangers who had similar experiences when The Blip happened. They would come into support groups to tell their own stories, once upon a time when the world began trying to make sense of what happened.

He said it was normal. And Sam was right, he's always right. It was a perfectly logical explanation, and those are the things you look for and stood by.

Except, this.

Nothing about Zemo's reaction felt normal. The connection upon seeing him again twisted up your insides and set your nerve endings on fire. None of your previous interactions ever gave you pause like this. No, this was different. Seeing the raw emotion on his face. The intensity of how closely he wrapped you into his body, as if he were trying to consume your entire being. You were held so closely to him, you could felt the beat of his heart, hear the raggedness of his breath, and sense the tremors beneath his fingertips.

Clearly what happened had changed you both. It would be hard not to given the enormity of the event. Again, you tried to think back to your time visiting him over the past couple of years in prison. Was there always a connection between you? Simmering beneath the surface? And The Blip was simply the catalyst to uncovering something hidden? You scoffed. Now you were just entertaining nonsense. Yes, it was emotional, but this was Zemo we're talking about. There's always a reasoning behind his actions, and they're usually executed in ways that only benefit him.

And just like that, logic and sanity had finally returned to you, like a cold bucket of ice water dowsing you over the head.

You remember looking to Bucky after Sam had finished his explanation and acceptance of everything that had transpired. You had sagged in relief noticing he had taken the information in stride and was no long on the defensive. However, in the following days after, you would always catch him now and again eyeing Zemo with some sort of suspicion. You figured with how manipulative the slightly unhinged genius could be, James was simply keeping a watchful eye on him. And why should he? We all should. Zemo was not to be trusted, and yet - deep down, you felt as if you were lying to yourself. That when push came to shove, you could trust him.

And that scared you.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

All of you were gathered around the kitchen island discussing tactics on where to locate Karli. Bucky had pitched we should be looking in isolated and abandoned areas, but Sam had different feelings on the subject. He felt they should be looking in more highly populated areas, as he believed they would want to try and blend in with the community like normal citizens.

So of course they start bickering, again.

You wanted to roll your eyes at them in utter exasperation, but held back. Instead you settle for a face palm as you continue to map out possible routes Karli and the Flag-Smasher may travel to stay accessible, but not completely visible to the public eye.

As you were zooming into a particular area that looked promising, you felt the brush of someone's hand against yours to the right of where you were sitting.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was. Sam and Bucky were still debating who's idea would bring around to most promising results in the short amount of time we had before Karli decided to strike again.

You peered up at Zemo thinking he was hovering to catch a glimpse of what you were working on, but instead you were surprised to see he had simply poured you a cup of tea and set it next to you.

The brush of the hand was deliberate though. This you knew for a fact. Over the past few days since your little reunion, you noticed Zemo had been silently giving you brief bouts of physical contact. Nothing overtly sexual in nature. In fact, they were quite light and fleeting. Sometimes, it was a brush of his hand against yours, a soft touch at your lower back or the slide of his fingers against a hip as he walked past you.

You weren't quite sure what to make of the actions. They certainly didn't disrupt you, but your body always took immediate notice when he did it.

The chair you were sitting in had swiveled when you went to look at Zemo. You had planned on quietly thanking him, but he had already moved to the opposite side of the island to observe the land markings Sam had drawn up on a paper map.

You gently picked up the tea cup and brought it to your lips. The warmth of the tea emanating from the cup was a balm for your hands. Before taking a sip, you closed your eyes and inhaled the scent of the tea. Ah. Cherry blossom. Apparently, a favorite of his according to James.

When you opened your eyes, Zemo was now watching you. You tilted your head to the side and smiled graciously at him, mouthing a 'Thank you' in reply to his kind gesture.

The corner of his lip twitched up in response to your thanks, nodding back at you. He held his gaze as you took a sip of the tea.

Your eyebrows shot up as you swallowed the tea. It was quite delicious. You pointed to the cup and nodded your head up and down in quick succession to show your appreciation.

You could tell Zemo was holding in a chuckle, but refrained from expressing himself fully. You had narrowed your eyes, and thought about calling him out on it, but ultimately decided against it. Instead you motion your head to Sam and Bucky acknowledging their ridiculousness. Zemo just dismissed them with a, 'What did you expect?' type of look.

Finally you had enough of the two knuckle-heads on the other side of the kitchen and decided to intervene on their behalf otherwise they would never accomplish anything today.

"You guys planning on coming to a conclusion any time soon, or should I start selling tickets to this show?"

James stopped his rant and turned to you, "He started it," pointing his finger at Sam. "Sam just doesn't want to admit that my prospective places have added value that his don't."

"Now wait, that's not entirely true Bucky. I just think -," Sam started in again, but you had cut him off before he could finish.

"For the love of - how old are you two? It amazes me Steve got as much done as he did with you two around," you shook your head in feigned disbelief.

You might have felt bad about your slight outburst, but it was absolutely worth it to witness the sheepish expressions on both Sam and Bucky's faces. You wished you had snapped a picture. Definitely would have made it your new lock screen on your phone.

"If it's okay, I'd actually like to offer a third option," you said, motioning them over with a flourish wave of your hands.

As Sam and Bucky moved over to you, you shifted your eyeline to Zemo, "You too Zemo. Let's get your opinion on this as well since you are a resident to the area and more familiar with its surroundings than we are."

Zemo rose from his place and came to rest at your side, hovering, but not in a suffocating manner.

Even though Zemo had kept a reasonable amount of distance between you, Bucky seemed to show some displeasure as you saw him scoot him a bit out of the way as he tried to put some distance between the two of you.

You bit back a comment in favor of going over what you had discovered and turned to Sam, "I know we want to locate Karli as quickly as possible, but there are too many variables to account for when scouting buildings that they could be hiding out in. I propose we search in hidden pathways that could quickly get the Flag-Smashers in and out of different parts of the city without being readily detected."

"Alright, that does make sense, so what are you suggesting?" Sam tilted his head in agreement before gesturing for you to continue.

"Take a look at this map," you swipe your hand up the computer screen to show a holographic image of an underground rail system.

"Those look like the old track lines from a railway project that was never completed. If I remember correctly, the government abandoned the project when they ran out of money. Most of the tunnels were built, but never quite finished," Zemo interjected.

"Exactly," you turned to him beaming.

You moved your hands animatedly as you were excited by this prospect, "These tunnels travel throughout the entire city. Karli and the rest of the Flag-Smashers can easily maneuver where they need to with these routes. If I were to put money on it, I'd bet you could find their insignias left on the walls of the tunnels below as a potential guide that could -"

"That could lead us straight to their hideout," Zemo finished, smiling with what could be described as something akin to pride, clearly impressed with the astute observation you made.

"I see where you're going with this. You know, you might be onto something. Especially with our truncated time table," Sam chimed in. "Bucky? What do you think?"

You turned your chair around so you could face the three of them fully.

"Yeah, I agree. I think there's a legitimate chance we could find some clues at the very least," Bucky replied, leaning in over your left shoulder to get a closer look at the image.

Memorizing it most likely.

"If I may suggest, here?" Zemo said, pointing to a location not far from them.

You saw Sam and Bucky turn to each and nod in agreement of the starting point.

"That's good. It's also close to one of the last places we spotted Karli, so it makes sense to check it out first before branching off somewhere deeper," Sam assented.

You turn back around and start typing on the keyboard. A few moments later a ping erupted from everyone's phone.

"I sent the map to all of us, so we each have a copy," you stated.

You closed the laptop and hopped off the chair you had been sitting in, packing your stuff up into your backpack off to the side.

"Whoa. Whoa. What are you doing?" Bucky said, placing his vibranium arm on your shoulder to pause your movements.

"Getting ready to go?" you questioned slowly, as if your actions weren't obvious.

"You're not coming with us," James stated sternly.

You turned to look at Sam.

"Listen, Bucky's right," Sam answered. You saw him hold his hands up in the air and shrug before placing a hand on your shoulder before continuing, "I know, it's a shocker, having Buck and I agree on something - but when it comes to your safety, we both feel the same."

You chewed on your inner cheek, knowing this was going to most likely be a losing battle. You pursed your lips, closed your eyes slowly, and sighed before lolling your head to the side in defeat.

Sam grinned knowing he won and dropped his hand from your shoulder, as he left the kitchen to go get his gear.

Bucky came up from behind you and gave you a quick hug and kiss on the head.

"Thank you," James murmured before moving to the door.

"You can't fault them for caring," Zemo said, voice carrying softly through the air.

You pivoted around to where Zemo was, watching him adjust his holsters and making a move for his coat.

"I know," you begrudgingly admit.

Zemo put on his coat and walked over to stand in front of you.

"It may not be completely dangerous, but there's always a chance, and it's not one your friends are willing to take with you," Zemo stated.

You drop your head slightly to stare at the floor. He was right. Sam and Bucky just wanted to look out for you, but that doesn't mean you couldn't be helpful down there. You do know some self defense. You spent 10 years around Steve and various Avengers over time, it's not like you weren't going to pick anything up.

"Zemo let's go," Sam said briskly, as he walked past them to meet Bucky at the front door.

You lifted your head up and saw Zemo give a curt nod to Sam before focusing his attention back on you.

Zemo started to walk by you, but paused to lean into, grabbing your wrist to gently rub his thumb over your pulse point and whisper, "And neither am I."

With that, he abruptly walked off to join Sam and James.

Your wrist was tingling with sensation even after Zemo had left your side.

Before they all left, you managed lean over the island to strangle out, "Please play nice with each other and come back in one piece!"

You could hear the huffs of laughter as they left and the door clicked shut behind them.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#helmut zemo x reader #tfatws #helmut zemo #baron zemo #sam wilson #bucky barnes #my writing #missed opportunities #team zemo #mcu fic #the falcon and the winter soldier

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wallwriterstuff · 4 years

Text

Get It? ‘Cause Your Old? ||Felix Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: A bit of swearing, some mild angst and mentions of insecurity.

Words: 2728

Summary: Felix is very touchy about his age, so how is the reader going to show him it really doesn’t matter to them?

Since meeting your mate you had gotten to know him rather well, quirks and all. Felix was a summer baby. He liked to swim in his spare time. He had degrees in graphic design, architectural design and electrical engineering, because (though he had learned since becoming immortal) he still found reading and writing quite difficult and preferred more creative subjects he could use his hands for. He loved the smell of lilacs, but hated the colour purple after coming across Barney the Dinosaur once in a shopping mall where the toy store had a character visit occurring. Your absolute favourite fact about your mate was his age however, and it was your favourite fact because you didn’t really know it.

“Are you kidding me? The Romans! Felix you’re not just old you’re ancient!”

“And you are obnoxious, shortness.”

Felix did not find this fact as amusing as you did.

You had begged and pleaded to figure out when his birthday was, determined to see if you could make one of those Happy Birthday banners where the number was replaced with question marks. He had refused to tell you with a knowing gleam in his eye, his expression stern. He’d found rather creative ways to shut you up. In fact, it had become a habit you realised, that every time you brought up the topic he found some way to silence you.

“I just don’t understand! I don’t want to do anything mean, I just want to make sure he has a good birthday! I mean, you lot never celebrate anything. Who do I have to kill to get some balloons around here?” You huffed, resting your elbows on your knees and dropping your chin into your hands. Since the Guard were away on a mission you had been left alone in the castle for the past three days, the secretaries too temporary for you to seek comfort in and the other vampires too aloof to consider human company any company at all. Santiago was the only exception to this rule, as he trained with Felix often and therefore ended up spending a lot of time with you as a by product of your presence in the training room. You never really saw anything per say since they moved so fast but occasionally, they slowed down to practice techniques and gave you a good view of the complex moves your mate could manage.

“You have to realise that we don’t really place the same value on birthdays as you do,” Santiago reminded you, “To some of us, we’ve had so many they’ve simply lost meaning, for others they are reminders of things we would like to forget.” Your brows furrowed. Who would want to forget their own birthday? Birthdays were so much fun! You spent them with friends and family eating good food and doing things you loved...

“You want to forget your own birthday?” you asked, the confusion evident in your voice. Santiago tilted his head.

“You forget most of us were born when your birth status dictated your lot in life. Some of us were born poor and we lost loved ones young, others of us were forced to marry young.” He pointed out. It was definitely food for thought. Felix had been born a really long time ago and you really had no gauge as to what life might have been like for him as a human; hell, you weren’t even sure Felix remembered what his life had been like. Santiago chuckled, clearly following your line of thought, and you couldn’t help but stick your tongue out at him.

When Felix returned to your side two days later you were quieter than usual. You couldn’t bring yourself to just forget about your conversation with Santiago. If Felix noticed he didn’t say anything but there was an increased amount of physical affection that let you know, in his own silent way, he wasn’t sure what was wrong with you but he wanted you to feel better. Simple things like a squeeze of your hand here and there or a tender brushing of a hand along your hair. It took you almost another week before you cracked.

“Why won’t you tell me your birthday?” you asked, curled into his side as you watched a movie together one evening. Felix tensed ever so slightly.

“Is that what you’ve been moping about the place for? Really?” he sounded both incredulous and exasperated, like he wished you’d drop the topic and couldn’t believe you hadn’t. Your tenacity was something he did want to admire but by god did you obsess over the most trivial things. Bobbing your head you sat up, frowning slightly.

“I was talking to Santiago about it and he said that maybe-“

“You shouldn’t have bothered speaking to any about it. It’s not worth wasting your time over.” Felix said firmly. You recoiled at that, not expecting his tone to be quite so sharp. Maybe Santiago was right and Felix didn’t enjoy remembering his birthday, but if that was the case all he needed to do was say! He didn’t need to get snappy about it. You sat up, turning your gaze away from Felix and towards the fire in the hearth.

“It’s my time, I’ll waste it how I like.” You muttered.

“I didn’t bargain to give you more time as a human for such trivial things, you wanted to finish your degree remember? I don’t see much work going towards that recently since your brain is so occupied by the unimportant.” Felix’s comment was almost snide, and you couldn’t help the hurt that ripped through you. You immediately scooted away from him, pushing up off of the sofa and moving to grab your bookbag. Felix sighed. “Now where are you going?” he asked.

“The library, I’ll sleep there to since I’m wasting so much time elsewhere.” You bit back.

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Felix huffed, flitting to stand in front of you, “This isn’t something we need to argue about, let’s just – Y/N!” you pushed past him and made for the door, determined that he wouldn’t see the tears welling in your eyes. You knew he hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but his words had implied just how worthless your humanity was to him. You had thought there were perhaps things about your human self he enjoyed; he commented on your warmth when he held you often, and how quiet the room would be without your heartbeat. Was this really the only reason you were as you were? Your education was the only reason he cared about your humanity? You had hoped at least one of your qualities would take the top spot on the list of ‘Top 10 Things to Love About Y/N’!

Felix didn’t follow you, and you didn’t bother to return to your room either, your stubbornness winning out as you did exactly what you said you would. It was Alec who found you, curled up on your side on the sofa in front of the fire. It was the only thing keeping you warm considering you had forgotten a jacket or blanket of any kind but your pride wouldn’t let you go back for one.

“I’m almost certain Felix has a bed in his room that is more than suitable to sleep in.” Alec quipped. You scowled at him, irritated by your inability to get a proper nights rest and the fact Felix had just let you walk away from such a stupid argument. He’d not come to find you either, though you hadn’t exactly gone to find him either.

“We’re fighting.” You grumbled. Alec’s head tilted.

“About what exactly?” he asked.

“Stupid stuff.” You curled up tighter with a shiver. Alec snorted.

“So your resolution is to freeze in the library all night? Are humans selectively stupid?” he wondered.

“Not you to!” you complained, “There’s nothing wrong with being human!”

“Ah, and we get to the crux of the problem.” He chuckled, leafing through the books to decide which he wanted to read tonight. Your scowl only darkened. It was no secret that your humanity was not favoured among the residents of Volterra and you really couldn’t be bothered for another argument with the witch twin about the perks of remaining mortal.

“If you’re here you’re not in your room, right?” you asked. Alec faced you with the most dead-eyed stare you’d ever seen, and if you hadn’t known the boy any better you might have feared for your life in that moment.

“An astute observation, allow me to counter. If I return to my room and find you in it, I’ll show you exactly why it doesn’t pay to be human here.” He promised. You all but ran from the room, leaving your book bag behind as collateral damage, and Felix welcomed you back silently with nothing more than a nod. You ignored him in favour of getting ready for bed, grateful for the warm covers and completely unaware of the way the giant pressed a feather light kiss to your head as you slept with a mumbled apology his pride wouldn’t let you hear.

It had been almost a month since the day you had met when you were hit by the brainwave that seemed to just…solve everything. It had been purely accidental. You had gone shopping, in need of some new socks, when you saw them. They were nothing spectacular, just plain black with some little green dinosaurs all over them, but the moment you had thought of what a funny little present they would be for your ancient-ass mate you had realised that they could be a birthday present.

Who said Felix needed to tell you his actual birthday? Your stupid fight a few days ago was still causing tension and it needed to be resolved; since the big dummy didn’t want to back down it seemed you (as loathe as you were to do so) would have to. You had everything you needed by the time you arrived back at the castle, completely forgetting what you had gone out for originally of course, and hurried back to your room to prepare your surprise for him. You had had helium balloons pumped up that said Happy Birthday on the side, but you crossed out the birth part and scribbled in sharpie beneath the printed message so the balloon read Happy Birthday we met instead. You had snagged an anniversary banner and some wrapping paper of course for his socks, including a card and some cake for yourself.

You just had to wait for your mate to finish his guard duty for the day.

With your slice of cake in hand, you had curled up on the sofa to eat it and watch some old reruns of your favourite sci-fi shows while you waited, not daring to look up and see his reaction when you finally heard the door open. There was a very long moment of silence where you dared not even swallow before he finally spoke.

“Happy day we met?” he questioned finally. He stood just in front of the door, his eyebrows raised and impressive arms folded. You merely nodded once and held out your present to him in silence. His eyes betrayed his surprise but he didn’t comment on it as he came to sit beside you. He went to open the envelope attached to the colourful paper and you reached out to stop him.

“Present first.” You insisted. Felix’s eyes rolled but he obeyed, tearing away the paper to reveal his dinosaur socks. There was a pregnant pause as he digested the meaning.

“Really?”

“Just open the damn card next.” You huffed. Neither you nor your mate were very good at speaking about how you felt, but writing…well that you could do. Felix took his time, and you knew better than to interrupt him since it took him so much effort to read simple things. You suspected he had never been taught as a human and was probably dyslexic, so when he turned and the Volturi tried to teach him to read he very much struggle; it was less learning and more remembering what words were supposed to look like, and since those words looked wrong reading was not his most favourite thing to do. The silence stretched and you wondered if perhaps you’d written too much in your card, but just as you were about to speak up Felix disappeared from your sight. Your jaw dropped, your eyes bugging slightly. What the hell did that mean? Was that an outright rejection? Did he still not get what you were trying to do?

“Y/N.” his voice was soft behind you, and you turned to find him down on one knee with a velvet box in hand. Your eyes widened and you scrambled to your feet with a dry mouth.

“Whoa whoa whoa Felix I know I just wrote the L word and all but a ring is-“

“Just open it you idiot.” He smiled slightly as you swallowed past the lump in your throat and hesitantly reached for the box. There was a beautiful silver band inside, very plain, but there was an infinity symbol intwined around it that was studded with tiny diamonds that glistened in the light the same way his skin did. Your eyes widened. It was gorgeous, and after the way you’d treated him it felt entirely undeserved.

“Felix…” you trailed off.

“I had it inscribed.” He told you. You very gently pulled the promise ring from its cushion and tilted it till you could see the word he’d had painstakingly etched into the metal.

Forever.

Felix stood till he was towering over you once more, his touch tender and soft as he carefully slid the ring on to your middle finger. His brows were somewhat furrowed, and he didn’t meet your eyes, but he didn’t let go of your hands either.

“Are you still mad at me?” you asked. Felix sighed.

“I was foolish to ever argue with you to being with, neither of us put forward our arguments clearly enough to see there was nothing to argue about.” he admitted, thumb stroking over your knuckles.

“I’m sorry for being so stubborn, I just wanted to celebrate you…you’re kind of cool so…” you stumbled over your words, blushing slightly. Felix chuckled, his free hand moving up to trace your blush with the backs of his knuckles. You leaned into his touch, understanding the gesture as a silent moment of appreciation for you. While he leaned in to kiss the top of your head, you gazed down adoringly at your ring.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive, I should have told you outright. I really don’t know my birthday since we didn’t have calendars, but I lived as a slave. Every year I prayed to my Gods to deliver me from my servitude, and with every winter that passed I remained a slave.” Felix confessed quietly. You pulled him into a tight hug, burying your face in his chest. It was really no wonder Felix had gotten so defensive, they were not the best memories to have, fuzzy or not.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, “I don’t care how old you are, and I won’t bug you about your birthday anymore, I just…wanted you to know how much you meant to me.” His chuckle vibrated through your skull.

“There will be plenty of anniversaries for us to come, shortness. I never meant to hurt you by implying I didn’t care for your human self. There are many things about you I will miss when you turn, but the sooner you do the sooner I can start forever with you…patience has never been my strong suit.” He tilted your chin upward, red eyes boring into yours as his lips inched closer.

“Truce?” you whispered. He hummed in agreement, thoroughly distracted by the way he moulded his mouth to yours in a slow, sweet kiss. With forever at your fingertips you would find plenty of way to celebrate your mate, but for now you would carry on into this blissful little part of your promised forever, savouring the little ways you were learning to love the dinosaur that had decided out of all those he’d met over centuries of existence, you were the one he wanted to keep at his side.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #volturi #felix volturi #felix volturi x reader #alec volturi #yes i really do headcanon that Felix can't read #Demetri beats the hell out of anyone who teases him for it

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historyhermann · 2 years

Text

The bun-wearing librarian shusher and romance in the library

Scenes with the librarian in the middle and end of an episode of "Boyfriends."

As I've noted on this blog before, shushing librarians is one of the most prevalent stereotypes of librarians in animated series, and in other popular culture media more broadly. As I moved this blog slowly away from a focus on animated series and more into a focus on webcomics, I came across, back in June, an issue of one of my favorite webcomics, Boyfriends, centered around a polyamorous quad of four male students, which focuses on love in the library. Now, astute readers may remember that I have covered this subject over, over, and over again. Unlike those examples, the episode of Boyfriends seems to say the librarian either dislikes romance or perhaps is homophobic herself, but less so than the character at a bloodbank in Hey, I'm Gay, who wouldn't accept the blood of the protagonist because he was gay, claiming it was because gay people have HIV/AIDs, even though dominant mode of spread is through spread among heterosexual people. So, that made this a little more interesting, for that reason.

In this comic, Nerd bumps into Prep in the library, flirting with him, asking why he is there, with Prep saying he is studying his books, and then... he is shushed by the librarian! He apologizes to her, saying he will try to be quieter, and they go up to the third floor since that part of the library is usually empty, where it won't bother anyone else. Nerd is impressed at his studiousness, and he says he is doing it because his parents like him to keep a high GPA. Nerd later talks about the pressure he is under having a double-major. They later study together for his upcoming test, and ended up flirting instead. That's about it.

While some in the comments came outright and said the librarian was homophobic, one commenter, SexiLexi89, who called themselves a "queer library tech," commented "I think you'd have a harder time finding a librarian that acts like this than a librarian that would encourage the gay flirting" while another said the librarian is jealous, saying she needs a girlfriend, or called the librarian's shushing "regular librarian behaviour." Others described the librarian as "pretty," "cute," guessed the librarian ships Nerd and Prep, or even sympathized with the librarian! Another wished the librarian existed "outside the stereotypes," which is something I was thinking too.

A quote from her January 2020 article, "The History and Debunking of Librarian Stereotypes," which I have cited on this blog before.

Other than knowing they may have been loud, we can't see the incident from the librarian's perspective, so we can't exactly know what is going on in her mind. So, it is probably a stretch too far to say she is homophobic, although she shouldn't have shushed them. What none of the commenters pointed out is how the librarian completely fits the spinster librarian stereotype. Librarians which fit this stereotype are portrayed as sexually undesirable, uptight (and possibly skinny) women, usually who are old, like to enforce rules, dress conservatively, have a bun hairstyle, are portrayed as unattractive. She isn't a background character like the spinster librarians in Futurama, as harsh as the unnamed librarian in DC Super Hero Girls, as un-helpful as Madame Nu in Star Wars (really an archivist), or as elderly as the librarian snatched in the first episode of Zevo-3. She is just like the spinster librarians, in terms of some of qualities, as those in Teenage Mother, Ironweed (although not as helpful as her), The Philadelphia Story, Boston Blackie, Ghostbusters, and It's A Wonderful Life which Jennifer Snoek-Brown analyzed on her blog, Reel Librarians, to give some examples.

That's all for this week. Until next week!

Reprinted from Pop Culture Library Review and Wayback Machine

#boyfriends webtoon #boyfriends webcomic #shushers #white women #library patrons #pop culture

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thatslikely · 4 years

Text

Monster - R.L.

Monster- (Young) Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader (unspecified house)

Warnings: descriptions of blood and violence

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I don’t normally write for the Marauders, but this was a special request for my best friend Ocean, who has stood by my side for as long as I can remember. I love you Ocean <3

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name, and thoughts/flashbacks are in italics.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @probably-peeves @anchoeritic @theweasleytwinsgirl

if you want to be added to my general or character-specific taglist, send me a dm or an ask!

----

Remus Lupin was a monster; a hideous beast deserving of nothing but a depressing life. A creature doomed to an eternity of rightfully earned misery and isolation. He was nothing more than a savage, barbaric werewolf.

Y/N, Y/L/N was a gorgeous and effervescent girl, who seemingly had the whole world rooting for her. She was exceptionally astute, a skilled and hallowed prefect, and unimaginably beautiful in every sense of the word. Someone who deserved nothing but the best.

While Remus would never believe it, he was the exact antithesis of a monster. To his friends, and to his great surprise, you, he was an altruistic, solicitous, and perceptive boy. A boy who you loved with every fiber of your being. A boy who needed to learn to love himself.

No matter what actions you took or words you sang, Remus sat in denial of your true feelings for him.

“But… why would you love someone like me? You already figured out that I’m a werewolf. I’m a monster, Y/N. You deserve so more than I could ever give to you,” Remus stated somberly. His eyes glistened with tears and were distinctly tinged with self-loathing. His normally soft, caramel locks were disheveled, and his worn Gryffindor uniform was wrinkled.

“Moony,” you started, Remus flinching at the nickname spilling from your lips, “I don’t care that you’re a werewolf. You’re breathtaking to me all the time, full moon or not. You have to understand, you’re not a monster! You’re someone I love. Someone I can’t live without.”

With the last sentence escaping your mouth with a plea, the tears that had been brewing in Remus’ eyes finally dripped down his face freely. He looked so broken, all the concrete walls that he had built up for so long crumbling under your acceptance and love. He was completely and utterly vulnerable.

He couldn’t be bothered to smudge away the translucent tears staining his cheeks, instead his arms instinctively reached to you like an infant, for a tight hug. He clung to your body like a lifeline; your soft and delicate skin drenched with a well-kept cardigan pressed into his aching chest. You felt so comforting in his arms, he could’ve held you forever.

“Y/N… I love you.”

The Great Hall was packed to the rafters with students adorned in varicolored robes, laughs and conversations dancing in one ear and out the other. The ancient, wooden tables were enveloped with pearly plates of every size, each supporting sky-scraping mounds of delicious house elf-made food. You promptly took the vacant seat next to Remus, reserved courtesy of himself, excited to see him after an endless day of droning professors.

James and Sirius were already plotting some sort of devious scheme, probably directed at their fierce rival, a raven-haired fellow fifth year named Severus Snape. You and Remus never became involved with the dastardly pranks, however, instead opting for unbiased pacifism. While a beady-eyed Peter was eagerly lapping up James’ and Sirius’ plans like ice-cold water in a desert, your stunning eyes lovingly locked with Remus’ handsome, mahogany ones.

You were quick to notice that Remus’ loaded plate of food remained untouched all dinner, contrasting the hefty meal residing in your own stomach. The full moon was approaching quickly, and there was no doubt he was worried out of his wits. You subtly motioned for him to pick at his plate, to no avail.

If only he would allow you to comfort him about his monthly transformations. He had always been quick to shut down discussion of anything related to the lupine side of him, no matter how much you begged on your hands and knees for him to open up.

“Remus, you really should eat. It’ll make you feel better, I promise,” you said with a concerned smile. The already troubled expression he wore fell even lower.

“I’m not hungry,” he said softly with strict finality. His face was painted with worry and guilt, a familiar but unpleasant sight. Once he noticed your gaze remained locked on him, he hastily covered up his unhappy expression with a small pseudo-smile.

“Can you at least have a bite of chocolate?” you asked, grabbing a small chuck of delicious candy from a wrapper in your robe pocket. You extended your sugar-filled hand to him expectantly, and he obliged, grabbing the cracked square with annoyance. Once he started chewing on the sweet chocolate, however, his nerves relaxed and his demeanor softened.

“Where’d you get this stuff, darling? Tastes quite good,” he asked, his words barely distinguishable thanks to the silky chocolate that filled his scarred cheeks. The nervous look that previously resided on his face was completely erased, a goofy grin triumphantly taking over.

“I’ll tell you, only if you swear to eat at least a little bit of your dinner,” you said motherly, gesturing your hands towards his plate of cold food. He emitted a sarcastic grumble before spooning some cold mashed potatoes into his mouth. He tried, and failed, to hide his gagging at the taste of the cold mush on his tongue, but he persevered, swallowing a few bites.

“I believe I owe you some chocolate,” you said satisfied, this time removing the whole bar from your inky black cloak pocket. You ensured the bar was wrapped nicely before gingerly giving it to a giddy Remus.

“Now, where can I get myself some of this? They don’t sell it at Honeydukes, do they?” he questioned, before breaking off a bit of the milky chocolate, promptly popping it into his mouth. He kindly shared some extra squares with the other three Marauders, ‘thanks’ repeatedly passed his way.

“It’s homemade, straight from Mum’s kitchen. I get sent some just about every Sunday, so it looks like I’m your only source. Bummer.”

“Oh well. I suppose it’s worth it.” Remus rolled his eyes jokingly, sending a thankful squeeze to your interlocked fingers.

The rest of dinner flowed along effortlessly.

----

Your droopy eyes languidly peeled open, revealing the lazy golden rays of light dancing across the stone walls of your cluttered dorm. The repulsive taste of mucus lingered at the back of your throat, an unwelcome side effect of your restless sleep.

Tonight was the night of the dreaded full moon.

Violent images of a bloody and wounded Remus flashed through your brain, causing a pained whimper to escape your throat. It always shattered your heart to see Remus returning back from a transformation, beaten, limping and broken.

He made every effort to conceal himself returning in that state, cautiously darting to the Hospital wing, not wanting you to see, and subsequently pity him. But unknown to him, the tucked-away broom closet parallel to Madam Pomfrey’s provided a miniscule glance of his disheveled self every dangerously moonlit night.

You sluggishly got up from your bed, a bone-creaking stretch of your arms coupling with a sloth-like yawn following suit. You trudged through quicksand to the bathroom, quickly brushing your teeth to rid your mouth of the unpleasant morning taste that coated your tastebuds.

Not long after, you threw on a comfortable outfit, one of Remus’ worn and oversized t-shirts and some sweatpants. If wearing his clothes could bring him a little joy today, it was worth it.

“I like your shirt today. Looks quite dashing,” you said in a joking tone to the boy sprawled on the crimson-dressed bed below you. Remus was donning a holey, earth-toned t-shirt, topped with a matching unbuttoned, cocoa-colored flannel which complimented his messy mop of hair.

He sat up with an innocent smirk, saying, “It’d look pretty ‘dashing’ on you, too.” Remus’ cheeks gained heat at his bold comment, his mind imagining you wrapped in his clothes. Your goofy smile added to his favorite shirt would be near perfect.

“Wanna test your theory?” you casually asked, tiny droplets of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You were always a bit flustered around Remus, but the prospect of his shirt was too alluring to pass up.

His face morphed into a slightly mischievous grin, and his hands quickly tore off the flannel overshirt that complimented the coveted top underneath. “Turn around for a second.”

You cocked your eyebrow in surprise before complying, pivoting your body away from the changing Remus. You envisioned his bare torso, dotted with sore scars. The exciting ruffling of clothes played behind you in a whisper.

Your eyes begged to sneak a peek, but they listened to Remus’ request, remaining clamped shut until he signaled, “Okay, you can look now.”

The prized brown shirt laid scrunched-up in his lap, his hands busily buttoning the few top buttons of his flannel, which was now stretched across his whole chest. After the flannel was fitted to his satisfaction, he tossed you the shirt with an amused smile.

You promptly slipped it over your head, the familiar and angelic smell of Remus brushing your nostrils. The shirt fit like a potato sack on your body, but to him, you looked ethereal.

Remus wasn’t seen all day, for he was locked up in his dorm, rotting away with anxiety. James, Sirius, and Peter all attempted to get him out of the cage he laid trapped in, but nothing, even the most enticing offers, would make him budge.

He finally emerged from his cave to the common room late into the afternoon, wearing puffy, red eyes with heavy purple bags underneath. You immediately ran to him, arms wrapping tightly around his stiff chest. He released a sigh before reciprocating the hug, a tiny, tired smile, resting on his face.

“Good afternoon to you, too,” he breathily muttered in your ear. Your whole body sprang up with goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath hitting your skin.

“I’ve been worried sick about you.” Your soft, relieved voice rang through his ears, guilt panging his heart.

“Don’t ever worry about me, honey. I’ll always be okay, and here for you.”

After stepping back from the solacing embrace, the other Marauders were quick to check on him. You stood away from their tight circle by the fire, simply admiring the laugh escaping Remus’ lips at one of James’ jokes.

He’ll be okay, you comfortably told yourself, He’ll always be okay.

However, you failed to consider your own safety.

----

The pale strips of moonlight that shone through the window illuminated your glassy, saucer eyes, accompanied by your heart rapidly banging in your chest like a fast-tempoed timpani. Your arms vibrated with fear, and your ears remained steadily perked, listening for any stray howls reverberating from the Shrieking Shack.

You had tried your best to think positively: at least after tonight, he won’t worry for a while, but the images of a currently suffering Remus swam in your head, swiftly extinguishing your optimism.

Lupine-esque whimpers echoed through your brain, accompanying the ghastly memories of a bloodied Remus, causing your stomach to churn like the sea in a thunderstorm. You were plagued with such intense worry and guilt that you refused to remain idle in your dorm any longer.

If he remained abandoned by you every full moon, the scars that accented his skin would come back even more profound than last month. His chest would be drenched in his own blood, a familiar but nauseating sight. His leg would wobble to class every day just as badly, his knee sore and rigid. You couldn’t just sit and watch him break and heal again every month. Remus needed help.

You stuffed your feather-filled pillows under the duvet of your four-poster in the rough shape of a human body, hopefully convincing as your own. Then, you proceeded to noiselessly creep through your tranquil dorm, the minute tapping of your slippers on the hardwood blending seamlessly with the regular humming of the ancient castle.

After safely out of the dorms and lifeless common room, you dashed to the Gryffindor tower, careful to avoid the observant eyes of patrolling professors. You softly muttered the password to the half-asleep Fat Lady, who you were well acquainted with thanks to the Marauder’s frequent antics.

You tip-toed up the cold, stone steps to the boy dormitories, promptly arriving at the fifth year dorms. You gave the sturdy, wooden door a light rap, crossing your fingers that the notorious night-owls would open up.

Your desperate wish was soon granted, a worried James peeling open the door, revealing the rest of the Marauders sitting in a circle on the rug behind him. “What’s up?” He whispered, a glint of mischief still present in his eyes, “you worried about Moony, too?”

“N- well yes, but I’m not here for a group therapy session. I need your cloak. The invisible one,” you quietly stated, confident and determined.

“What could you possibly be up to? Something tells me it’s not just a trip to the kitchens.” James looked considerably more suspicious, his knuckles’ grip tightening on the door. Sirius got up from his spot on the floor, approaching the door frame.

“Er- just give me the cloak, please? I can’t sit around knowing he’s suffering alone out there. Not anymore.” Your eyes threatened to fill with tears, but you successfully fought to keep them under control.

“Y/N, is this really the best idea? I know you two are ‘in love or whatever’ but is it worth dying for? You and I both know the danger of his condition.” You winced at James’ words before stubbornly nodding, determined to leave with the cloak.

“At least let us go with you. I don’t think Moony would want his girlfriend dying, especially if it was his fault.” Sirius snatched his wand and coat from the nightstand, ready to accompany you to the lupine love of your life.

“I’m sure that there’s no way in hell I could stop you guys, but, please, don’t worry about me. I’m a perfectly capable witch, believe it or not.”

James uneasily handed you the cloak while Sirius gave you a comforting pat on the back. You turned away from the dorm, your mind set on the Shrieking Shack.

----

The fierce wind howled through the towering, spiky trees, not soothing your jittery nerves in the slightest. The previously clear, starry sky was now blanketed with inky storm clouds. The ground occasionally rattled with booming thunder, making your tingly legs shake even more.

Your wand was out and eager to spew spells at any unusual sights or sounds, despite knowing that the only real threat, Remus, resided exclusively in the shack. You gradually inched closer to the Whomping Willow, not exhibiting any Gryffindor-ish traits as you did so.

When you were finally within range of it’s murderous branches, you skillfully levitated a rock to perfectly rest on the trunk’s secret pressure-point, paralyzing its wooden limbs without a sweat. You ducked under it’s ancient roots, running towards the demonic barks that echoed in the distance.

You tore the transparent hood off of your shoulders, dropping it on the porch of the dilapidated house. Your vision blurred with fearful tears, but regardless, you pushed the peeling door of the shack open, scared to see what lay inside.

Musty, forgone furniture was haphazardly thrown around what was presumably the den; deep and fresh claw marks mangled the grimy plush of chairs. Moldy tabletops were smashed in, opaque glass windows were shattered into millions of pieces, and there were unsettlingly large paw prints dotting the rotting floor.

“Remus?” you squeaked, your throat tense and withdrawn. Low, animalistic growls could be heard from the second floor, and with a gulp, you slowly ascended the creaky stairs which groaned under your every movement.

“Remus…?” you repeated at the top of the desolate stairs, this time barely audible. “Moony?”

The level was eerily quiet, making you regret your decisions a hundred times over. You scampered forward, the small beam of white light emitted from the tip of your wand growing shaky with fear. He’s up here, somewhere. Thoughts of a suffering Remus drove you to peer through every room, fearfully expecting to find a helpless, balled up werewolf sitting in the corner.

Each battered bedroom lay devoid of life, disregarding the infestation of cockroaches that resided in the decaying walls. Your legs felt numb and uncontrollable as you stepped to the final bedroom at the end of the hallway. Remus must be in here.

You rolled your wrist around, making sure it was pliant in preparation for the spells that would likely need casting. You pushed the unhinged door to the side, ready to face your lupine boyfriend.

Barbaric, unintelligible noises tickled your ears at a low frequency. You walked silently into the room, the quivering grip on your wand increasing. You stepped further and further into the room, towards the bed that lay broken in the center.

A thunderous snarl from the closet jolted you around, invisible tears pouring down your face. “Remus? Remus, come out, it’s m-me.”

Bloodied claws, sharp as daggers, dug into the aged wood, slowly approaching you like a predator sneaking up on its prey. “Remus, its Y/N. Don’t worry. It’s okay, I’m here.”

Inhuman, savage eyes pierced into your own soaked ones. Not an ounce of your boyfriend was left in the shadowy wolf; the way he slinked towards you viciously, the way bubbly drool fell from his twisted snout, the open wounds that characterized his back.

His demeanor showed no signs of recognition, only ferine instincts ruled his primitive mind. “Remus… it's me…” Your voice cracked with heartbreak, a sob escaping afterwards. Silence, save for the deep, drawn out growls from the werewolf.

“REMUS! REMUS, TELL ME YOU REMEMBER ME? PLEASE, REMUS, PLEASE,” you wailed. Maybe you were yelling to get through to him, or maybe just to hear your own voice over your booming heart that drowned out your thoughts.

Remus left you no time to think, let alone act, as your whittled wand thudded to the floor, and the vicious werewolf’s jaw sunk into your delicate collarbone. Sanguine blood splattered extravagantly across the decrepit room, its hauntingly intricate patterns tainting the rickety bed behind you, turning its dusty white sheets a sickly crimson.

A hoarse shriek rattled through your teeth as the feral canines dug deeper into your shredded flesh. Your vision went blurry, not from the tortured tears spilling from your eyes, but from mind-numbing exhaustion. The last thing you saw before collapsing onto the floor with a groan, your mouth contorted open in pain, was a quick flash of black and brown.

----

“Y/N… I’m so sorry.” Your chest vibrated from the lugubrious sobs escaping Remus’ nauseated throat. His lips and chin was crusted with a rusty red waterfall sourced from his now human teeth, his tousled, sweat-drenched hair rested on your heart. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

“I’m a monster.”

Your dried, bloodshot eyes peeled open, taking in the confusing sight that surrounded you. You were crumpled on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, held by a sobbing, gory Remus. A melancholy James, Sirius, and Peter stood further back, taking in the depressing sight before them.

Languid morning rays shone through the opaque glass of the window, the beams perfectly highlighting the slick trails of blood that dried all over your body. Your shirt was torn to shreds, the collar being the most mangled. Your shoulder stung with the pain of a thousand Crucio-curses.

“Remus… what happened?” you croaked, your throat unwilling to cooperate, its texture like sandpaper. His drenched, brown eyes looked up to you in shock, tears falling down his scarred checks even faster. Last night was nothing but a hazy black blur which made your head pound even thinking about it.

“What happened to me, Remus?”

“I turned you. You’re a monster like me now.”

“I-I don’t think I understand…”

“You came to the Shrieking Shack last night to comfort Remus, and well, he bit you. You’re a werewolf now,” Sirius solemnly said, his gaze pointed to his black Doc Martens. Remus soon ran out of tears to cry, his eyes instead spacing out, his mind drowning out your words and touches.

“I turned you into a werewolf. I’ve sentenced you to the same hell that I live. I’m so sorry, there’s nothing we can do. I’m a monster!” Remus shouted, his shaky voice the most depressing thing that’s ever graced your ears. You sat on the floor, wrapped in Remus’ sorrowful embrace, shocked silence filling the mournful room. Tears subconsciously coated your burning cheeks and chin, fusing with the rust-colored, crusted blood, creating a sickly pink waterfall down your face.

“Remus, it’s okay-”

“No, it's not. Not this time, Y/N. It's all my fault,” he cried, “I swore that I would protect you, protect you from that monstrous side of me, and now look. We’re one and the same. Except that I’m a truly vile being deep down. I should be gone.”

“Being a werewolf isn’t some cool superpower or something; it's a disease! It's a ravaging, dangerous, violent disease; it taints everything, it’s inescapable. A disease that the person that matters the most to me now has, and it’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have come to this school in the first place. I don’t deserve any of this. I deserve to die.”

“Remus John Lupin, don’t you dare say that you deserve anything even remotely close to death! I know being a werewolf is going to be difficult, painful, everything, but at least I have someone to help me! At least I have someone who isn’t just going to leave me on the streets and have me fend for myself. I trust you more than anyone, I know it’s going to be okay, okay? You’re far from a monster, Moony. You’re someone I love,” you choked out, your voice fading with pain.

Remus’ eyes found crystalline tears once again, and you held his bloodied head to your chest, allowing his ears to hear your slow heartbeat, cooing, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I love you. It’s going to be okay, I promise. I’ll survive, we’ll survive, together.”

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clanoffetts · 4 years

Text

Tales From Bespin, vol. I: The First Time

Lando Calrissian x fem!Reader

summary: the first in a collection of stories about Reader and Lando’s adventures in sex in Cloud City, starting with their first time together.

warnings/tags: 18+; not proof-read lol; piv; unprotected sex; tooth rotting sweet sex; lando is a fuckboy but, like, a nice one; puthy eating bc Lando is a man of taste; porn with like some plot but it’s, like, stupid plot. no seriously i don’t really remember much of the plot

word count: 3.5k

“Do your rooms still suit you?” Lando asks as you eat breakfast together. He’s asked this every morning since you arrived a week ago. In that week, you’d learned that Cloud City was gorgeous in the morning and that Lando Calrissian was very concerned with your happiness. You were glad, of course, as you’d come to Bespin on his request, the both of you hoping that something more would develop.

You nod. “Of course,” you say. “I feel like a princess.”

“Good,” he chuckles. “It’s what you deserve.” Something had begun to develop, you ate meals together, walked the city together, watched holos together. But at the end of the evening, you’d leave his rooms, and you’d assumed you were replaced with someone who would, frankly, fuck him. You knew Lando was a bit of a playboy, talk of Cloud City orgies was common legend amongst teenagers in the Outer Rim, and you usually didn’t go for playboys. But he was charming. Yeah, all playboys are, they have to be, but Lando was different. You could tell he was sincere.

So, when his two week stay on Naboo was coming to a close, he’d invited you to Cloud City to live with him, and that you could continue your clothing designer dreams on Bespin with high fashion.

“They love your dresses,” Lando says, taking a drink of some kind of juice.

You smile. They didn’t have much high fashion on Bespin, most of the population weren’t concerned with expensive clothes and the rest were rich with nothing to buy. “I’m glad. Thank you for helping me sell them, helping me build my reputation.”

“I told you that you need to stop thanking me, beautiful,” he says, voice smooth as always. “A new episode of that holoseries we binged comes out tonight.”

“Yeah I saw,” you say. “We’re watching it together, right?”

He smiles as he cuts up some of the meat on his plate. “Always, sweetheart.”

Lando had a busy day. Usually, you’d walk the halls, Lando telling you stories of the art on the walls and how they came to be in his possession or attend a water opera, but today there was none of that. So you sat in your rooms, a little cozier now than when you arrived. You’d decorated the walls with tapestries and art, adding some color to the tradition Bespin sleek white walls. Your furniture was all white and so were the blankets and pillows. You’d have to sew and embroider some new ones at some point, the plainness of it all was boring. Especially to someone from Naboo, where everything was vibrant and richly embroidered.

You lay on your bed, staring up at the blank white ceiling, thinking about Lando. There were many women about the place, scantily clad Twi’leks, humans, and Togrutas, and you knew why they were here. You didn’t feel jealous, per se, because you knew your thing with Lando, whatever it was, was not an exclusive relationship. But you did feel a bit surprised that he’d invite you here on the hope of something more, and continue with his habits.

Did you actually know Lando was sleeping with these women? Well, no, but one could safely assume, right? Especially if you weren’t putting out like women were expected to, though Lando never gave any indication that he was upset by the lack of sex. Maybe you were upset with the lack of sex, pent up and yearning for this man since he arrived on Naboo a month ago. Maybe you were going to change that.

“Ready, sweetheart?” Lando says, sitting down on one of the lush couches of the front room of his chambers. The furniture in here had dark wood from Kashyyk, a gift from one of Lando’s Wookie friends, he’d said. There were pillows in styles from all over the galaxy. The room was eclectically Lando: rich in more than one sense.

He’d brought snacks with him, sitting them down on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Born ready,” you tell him. Under your clothes were the sexiest things you owned. Maybe it was a bit sad that the sexiest thing you owned was just a matching black bra and panties, but you didn’t really have a need for lingerie. Matching was the best you could do.

The holodrama premier episode is one and a half hours, and over that course of time you’d eaten more types of candy than you can count, and inched closer to Lando until you were almost on top of him. He had an arm around you, your head resting on his chest. When the commercials for new bacta patches or some kind of Imperial propaganda interrupted the show, you’d tilt your head up to look at him, he’d tilt his down, and you’d kiss. Each kiss tasting a little different than the one before as fruity candies passed between both of your lips.

“You like the blue ones,” you say as you break the kiss before the commercials are over.

“And why do you say that?”

“Your lips have tasted like the blue ones more than any other,” you say, your tone very matter-of-fact.

He chuckles. “Very astute observation, sweetheart. Though I can’t say I was too focused on your taste,” he says. “I paid more attention to the feel.”

You sit up a little more now, pressing your lips to his again, not giving a damn that the show was back on.

“Very eager, sweetheart,” Lando murmurs, his lips traveling from your lips, down your jaw, to your neck.

“I could say the same,” you whisper as he presses kisses to your neck, trying to find your sweet spot. This has been a long time coming. You feel his soft hair against you, lost in the feel and the scent that when his lips finally find that spot that makes you gasp, it catches you off guard.

Lando notices, and says, “Can I mark you up, beautiful?”

“Please,” you’re breathless, at his politeness, at his pet name, at everything he is.

He sucks a mark onto your skin, teeth coming after to give light bites to the forming bruise. “So polite,” he says. “I like manners.” You giggle a little, but are quickly cut off by his lips back on yours. Lando kisses sweetly, just how you expected him to. He’s not rough, he’s not hard, but he’s soft and sweet and passionate. That man oozes passion, especially right now.

Your body is hyper aware of everything, his mustache brushing against your upper lip, the feel of the cape lined in shimmersilk brushing your arms as his arms wrap around you. You moaned into his mouth, and you felt him smile into the kiss. Lando was always a smug motherfucker.

He pulls away from the kiss, hands wandering to the straps of the loose sundress you wore. “Can I?” You nod, and he pulls the straps down, freeing your breasts. “So gorgeous, sweetheart.” His head lowers onto your nipple, gently sucking and swirling, taking note of everything that made you writhe. His hand cups the other breast, kneading gently, thumb occasionally swiping over your nipple. Everything was so slow, he was such a tease, and it was obvious that Lando Calrissian knew what he was doing.

“We’ve never done this before,” he says, pulling off of your breast. “Do you want this?”

“Can I ask you something first?” He nods. You’re nervous, but you ask, “I know this might not be the right time to ask, but have you been sleeping with other people while I’m here?” You cursed yourself as soon as you said it. You weren’t his girlfriend, you had no right to know this, and yet you needed to know. To know that he was in this, for real.

“No, darling,” he says. “I’m pursuing something serious, if that’s what you want.”

Your body relaxed, and you’re positive that Lando could tell. “Yeah, yeah I do want that,” you say. “Now fuck me, please.”

“So very polite,” he comments, bringing his mouth to your other nipple. This time there’s a little teeth, but he’s still painstakingly slow. “You want to go to the bed?”

You nod, and he’s already up, taking your hand in his and leading you further into his rooms. You notice the bulge straining against his expertly tailored pants, and he notices you staring. “Manners starting to slip, sweetheart? It’s not polite to stare.”

You shake your head, face beginning to heat up as it dons on you that not only are you staring at his bulge, you’re also walking around with your tits out. “Don’t get shy, now, sweetheart,” he commands with a gentle tone as he leads you to the bed.

The bed is massive, with large fluffy pillows and nice fuzzy blankets strewn over it. “Maker, Lando, this is huge.”

“The size of this bed is where the Bespin orgy stories come from, my dear,” he winks. “Though this isn’t where they happen.” He drops your hand so you can hoist yourself up onto the large bed, and he follows suit, though he’s a lot more graceful.

“Now,” he says, gently pushing you to recline against the pillows. “Where were we?” He lays down next to you, attaching his mouth to the side of your breast, sucking harshly. Another bruise would form there, and your core ached at the thought of getting to admire them the next morning in the ‘fresher mirror.

Your whimpers seem to echo in the big room, and Lando loves it. “Let me hear you,” he murmurs against your stomach before sucking another bruise. “Love to hear you.”

And, boy, do you let him hear it. So used to muffling your own noises in places with thin walls, it was a strange freedom to be as loud as you want. “Can I take this off, sweetheart?”

His hands are balled up on the dress. “Fuck, yes, please,” you tell him, eager for him to get closer to your cunt, to give you the direct stimulation he’s made you crave. He pulls the dress down your body and off your legs, tossing it to the other side of the bed. He unclasps the cape and removes his shirt, tossing them as well. And, kriff, he’s gorgeous. He’s toned, but not overly muscular in the way you find scary. His skin looks smooth, though covered in hair, and you reach a hand out to drag across his stomach.

You expect him to ask to take your panties off next, but he doesn’t. “I bet your pussy is pretty, sweetheart. Everything about you is pretty,” he says, one hand cupping your cunt, the warmth burning through the thin fabric, and the other stilling your hand on his abdomen. All you can do is whine a little, the light pressure on your pussy making you ache even more.

Lando leans down to kiss you, pressing his blue-flavored candy lips against yours and returning your hand to the mattress. When he pulls away, he lowers himself down between your legs, eye-level with your cunt. “Open these up more,” he coos, pushing your legs open and up towards your chest.

He places a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your clothed cunt, giving a deep chuckle when you gasp. “She’s already swollen, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ve not even done much. Just sucked your tits.”

“Yeah, but you did that for, like, ever,” you breath out, and he laughs.

“I like to tease my girl,” he says before bringing his lips down over the fabric again. But you can’t focus completely on that right now, not when your mind is repeating his voice calling you his girl. But eventually you snap out of it when his mouth is replaced with his fingers, running over the fabric of your panties, there’s enough friction to tease you but not enough to truly please you.

“I think it’s time I see this pussy,” he says, placing some kisses on your thighs. “Don’t you think so, sweetheart?”

You whine out a yes, and he makes quick work of removing your underwear. The cool air of the room hits your slick as Lando returns your legs to their open position. “Just like I thought- gorgeous pussy” he says, using a finger to collect your arousal, bringing it to his mouth and closing his eyes as he cleans his finger. “Taste better than the blue candy, sweetheart. I think I need another taste, don’t you?”

You nod, and before you can even utter a ‘please’, his mouth is on you. “Stars, Lando,” you whimper as he sucks on your clit. His tongue is swirling around in patterns that made your whole body shiver, his hands are on your tits and stomach, groping at any soft flesh he could grasp. Everytime you whine out a word, he hums around your clit, sending a wave of vibration straight to your core.

“And to think I’ve traveled to a hundred confectionery shops when the sweetest candy in the galaxy is right here,” he says, pulling your lips further apart so he could admire his candy. With a growl, he dives back in, this time at your hole, letting his nose take care of your clit for now. His tongue pushes inside you with force, Lando eagerly lapping up your juices, your moans escaping in unison with his.

When he decides his nose occasionally bumping your clit isn’t enough and replaces it with his fingers, rubbing small circles, you feel the wave of your orgasm start to roll in. “Gonna come, Lando, fuck-”

He hums, low and gravely against your cunt, and it pushes you over the edge. You’re loud, moaning and writhing under him, but his mouth stays attached to your slit with determination, following your hips wherever they go. Lando does this until your body stops shivering and you’re left with labored breathing on the bed in a mess of pillows.

“Stars, Lando, you’re good at that,” you giggle as he climbs up your body to press a kiss to your forehead, nose, lips. You taste yourself on him, not something you’d describe as the best candy in the galaxy, but you could see where he was coming from.

“Glad you liked it, sweetheart,” he replies. “I’m a people pleaser at heart.” Your hands wander down to the buckle of his belt, trying to undo it but the clasp is foreign and your mind is cloudy. Lando sits back on his haunches between your legs, undoing the clasp and freeing his cock from his pants. Lando Calrissian didn’t wear underwear, apparently. “Is this what you wanted, beautiful?”

You nod frantically, the voice in the back of your head telling you you looked pathetically horny, but you couldn’t care. “Please, Lando,” you whine. “Want you inside me.”

“Stars, sweetheart, I’ve wanted this since back on Naboo,” he says, shedding his pants and adding them to the stack of clothes accumulating on the side of the bed.

“Been so enamored by you for so long,” he sighs, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you beg, “Please.”

“There’s my girl, with her manners,” he groans as he pushes his cock inside you, ever so slowly. “Gotta savor your pussy, sweetheart. Been wanting it for so long.”

You moan as he bottoms out, “Wait, my implant expired, I’m sor-”

He cuts you off, “I have one. Don’t you worry, sweetheart.” His voice is strained with pleasure as he drags his cock in and out of your aching core, you swear you can feel each vein against your walls.

“Fuck, Lando, please,” you whine, wishing he’d give you a little more, even if it was just enough to come.

He gives you that smug smile, “Please what?”

“Faster, Lando,” you whimper, bringing your legs around his waist in an effort to push him into you quicker.

He tuts. “Where’s your manners, sweet thing?”

“Please,” you beg. “Please, please, please.”

He kisses your nose. “Since you’re so polite, I think I might just have to oblige.” And he does. His hips don’t snap hard against you like the other guys you’d fucked, though they hadn’t been very good, maybe that was why. He wasn’t so hard like the holoporn videos or the stories you’d read on the ‘Net. But it’s so good.

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” His voice is breathy now, though still deep.

“Full,” you whine, and his fingers come to your clit, causing you to gasp and clench around him. “And stretched.”

His lips are painted with that smug smile again, “Just like you want, sweetheart. Just like you deserve.”

His voice deep in your ear, his cock deep in your cunt, and his fingers moving with grace across your clit just about send you to the edge again. “I think I’m gonna come Lando,” you moan, “Fuck I want to come, please!”

“Come, then, sweetheart,” He grunts. “I’ll always give you anything you want.” That was it, the final straw, and your body began to shiver and shake. Your arms clasped around him and your legs pushing him deep inside you, you come with such force that you can hardly make any noise. Your mouth is open, your eyes are wide, but there’s no sounds, just complete and utter bliss. “I’ll always give you what you want,” he pants again as you come down from your high, still relishing in his cock fucking you open.

“Then give me your cum,” you demand.

There’s a twinkle in his eye now, “Your wish is my command,” he says. His thrusts are a little quicker now, though more shallow and sloppy, and you continue to moan his name and clench your walls around him until he’s grunting in your ear that, “I’m going to fill you up, sweetheart, just like you asked.”

And he comes, also with force, losing control of his thrusts and your heels dig into his ass, holding him inside you as he paints your walls white. “Fuck, just what I wanted, Lando,” you coo, running a hand over his back as he lay on top of you trying to collect himself. “Treat me so well, like a princess.”

He gently pulls out, both of you wincing, and he rolls onto your side. You shift to face him, trying not to move too much so you don’t spill cum over what you assume are expensive blankets and bedding.

“Spread your legs a little, sweetheart,” he says softly. You do as you're told, and he slips a finger between your legs, just outside your slit where he collects your mixed cum. He licks some, though not all, off his finger and hums. “Second sweetest candy in the galaxy. You want a taste?”

You nod, sticking your tongue out with an eagerness that should’ve been embarrassing. He holds his finger out and you lick it clean. “I think that’s the sweetest,” you say, savoring the strange yet satisfying taste. “But to each their own I guess.”

“Did you enjoy that?” Lando has you lying against his chest, now clad in one of his silk sleep shirts and he wears the matching pants. He’d cleaned you up nicely, brought some sweet Alderaanian toniray- a rare commodity these days- for you to sip on.

You nod. “It was amazing. I’ve never come twice with someone before.”

He looks almost offended at your statement, “You’ve only been with guys that make you come once?”

“Sometimes not even once,” you admit. “That’s not normal?”

He shakes his head. “Kriff, no, sweetheart, you’re supposed to come. And the bare minimum is once in my book. In fact, I regret only making you come twice tonight. Got too caught up in my own pleasure.”

“Well, you’re supposed to feel good, too,” you point out.

He nods. “Yes, but I should also make you feel good. I get off on making you feel good.” He’s shaking his head again. “Only come once,” he mutters. “Atrocious, dear, absolutely atrocious.”

You let out a sleepy giggle, drawing patterns with your nail on his chest. “Well you can make up for all those missed orgasms another time,” you say, finishing with a yawn. “You’ve worn me out, Calrissian.”

“As you should be, sweetheart,” he says. “Get some rest, yeah?”

You nod against his chest, the quiet darkness of the room and the beat of his heart already lulling you to sleep.

tagging those who showed some interest (i promise boba threesome is coming in the next few days, i’ve already written over half of it lol)! @delusionsxfgrandeur @fuckyeahbeskar @sleepwithacommunist @tibbietibbs @hansonveggieclub

#lando calrissian #lando calrissian smut #lando calrissian x reader

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

Whiskey Titties

Day 16: Nipple Play

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean loves your boobs and whiskey.

A/N: Inspired by @deanmonandnegansbitch 's drabble, check it out! I know I'm late and sorry! Today's one will be posted too hopefully in the right time but no promises because I plan on going to my aunt's today. Also, have I mentioned how much I love that Dean's canonically passionate about women's boobs? No? Okay!

Ps: Certain names that will show up were also Yas' and a lovely anon idea! (no spoilers!)

Warnings: dirty talk, humping, nipple play

Dean Winchester was a boob man.

You knew that before he even touched you. The not subtle glances that he threw at your cleavage in that bar back then made you roll your eyes and Sam give him an empty stare. But Dean was cute, hot, and funny. You let that first impression slide by the end of his hunt, giving in to his dumbfounded charm. And man, he wouldn't stop watching your boobs pounding while he fucked you that night.

It hadn't stopped. Dean would groan and place his head on your breast when he was frustrated, lay on top of you and rest on your boobs after fucking, or even just smirk at himself watching you walk around in summer clothes.

Undoubtedly, that translated into sex. He had left your chest full of hickeys, kisses, and bites. Dean relished into sucking your nipple, cupping your breast, or just kneading them.

That man really loved women's boobs. Especially yours.

They were just too good. So pretty and perfectly fitting in his large hands — like they were made for Dean to take care of. It might not compare to eating pussy, but fuck he could adore more than one thing about his woman's body, thank you.

So, you couldn't blame him for being distracted by your tities again. Come on, you had mixed boobs and booze, his two favorite B's. What did you expect?

“Fuck.” You groaned, impatient with the drop of scotch that dropped on your cleavage accidentally. Grabbing a napkin, you tried to clean it up, knowing that was helpless. It was a good old drink, you would be smelling like alcohol for the rest of the night. You sighed, throwing the stained napkin on kitchen's counter, where you were sitting. Your eyes went to him, a single eyebrow arched when you noticed his obvious lack of attention. “Dean?”

All he could emit was a hum, “Mhm.”

Tilting your head to the side, mouth contorted into with a wondering expression, you moved on the counter — which made your boobs shake a little. Dean licked his lips, watching as carefully as he'd watch one of his private movies.

You followed Dean's eyes only to find your own breast under his adoration glare. A huff came out of your lips as you slapped his arm, waking him up. “Hey!”

You held an indignant glance. “Seriously?”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes, pointing at your cleavage. Dean smirked, already a goner. How could a pair of titties look so good, all wrapped up with your red tank top like a christmas present? The fact that the tank was a bit too tight and squeezed them together, making them come out even more, was a big bonus.

“Can you stop looking at my boobs for two seconds?” She chortled in dismay, unable to discern whether he was listening to you or not. Men and boobs. “Do you even remember what I was talking about?”

The male used all his inner strength to look up and focus on your words. Dean frowned, not even a slight glimpse of what you had been saying in his mind. Nonetheless, he attempted a shoot: “Something to do with Sam's date?”

You shook your head. “You are unbelievable.”

“It's not my fault my girlfriend's smoking hot.” He said, a devilish grin on his lips as Dean scooted closer to you, forgetting about the dishes he was cleaning. The hunter placed his hands on your lips as he got himself between your legs. “And got such nice boobs.”

“Dean…” It should come out a warning, it should come out as a refrain. You two were adults, Dean himself in his forties— you shouldn't just mess in the middle of the kitchen like two horny twenties. Yet, the crack in your voice made it sound vulnerable, like you were pleading for him.

You were.

Dean bent down, swiftly putting his face between your breasts. This was heaven. He couldn't help a moan, the sound slightly muffled by your boobs.

Your eyes shut instantly. The Winchester's tongue was already doing the dirty work, licking and caressing every bare spot the red fabric left for him to play with. He spotted a trace of whiskey mixed with your sweaty and apple soap.

He lifted his head, licking his lips as he glanced at you. If he looked down, he'd catch your boobs. If he looked at your face, he was seeing your features turned into an exciting expression; lips slightly open, eyes closed, and heavy breathing. All because of him. More than an ego boost, that made Dean feel proud of himself. To make you feel good was always his priority, as deeply as a religious obsession. “What if we add a little flavor here, sweetheart?”

“Like whipped cream?” You opened your eyes, frowning at the lack of friction.

Dean grabbed the half empty bottle that laid next to you, a malicious smile on his lips as he shook the bottle. “Like Whiskey.”

“You sure Sam isn't coming back tonight?” You bit your bottom lip, considering.

“He's busy with Eileen, training his sign language.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows, gaining a smack on his shoulder. “What? It's been awhile since he got some.”

You decided not to answer him, rather taking off your shirt and throwing it away. Astute hand grabbing the bottle from his hold and to open it, whiskey soon drizzling on your breasts.

A perverse grin appeared on your face. “Shut up and suck my boobs, Winchester.”

Dean might had been to heaven a couple times, but this was paradise. You, in the middle of the bunker's kitchen, legs spreading and whiskey titties.

“You know I love when you take control like that, honey.” He provoked before he burrowed his face between your boobs again.

All response you could give was a groan as Dean's skilled mouth started to work on you: he pecked the valley between your breasts, a gentle buss undercurve the right one — his personal favorite, the beloved righty. Your ass got the nicknames AC, the right one, and DC, the left one, so he didn't have the best naming for your boobs. — His lips went up, crashing against your chest as he gave it an open-mouthed kiss.

A shameful moan left your lips. Your head was falling back, legs wrapped around Dean's waist used to pull him closer. The green eyed man got your hint for more touching, licking around your areola (god, your skin felt even softer with alcohol), then swipping his tongue over your nipple until he made it as hard and got it between his teeth. Dean didn't bite it, only adding pressure to the arousal. Meanwhile, his other hand found its way to cup your bosom, kneading it with his fingers.

The hunter savored your breast a bit longer, caressing the left and finally sucking your nipple. This, this was everything he wanted to taste in his mouth besides your pussy. The strong taste of Whiskey, laced with your salty derm, while he also got his head between a pair of boobs.

His cock was already full awaken, protesting in his jeans. Yet, he didn't want to stop now. Dean simply slid his free hand in his pants, grabbing his cock.

You weren't that far either, the obvious slick between your legs reported your desire. You pushed yourself to the edge of the counter, and pulled Dean closer — such movement causing the clothed boner and your soaked panties to collide.

A howl left both lover's lips. Yours legs trying to bring Dean near — as if that was possible.

Your hand on his head, fingers between his fingers as you pressed him deeper into your breast. “Come on, Dean. Suck my boobs. Don't you love them, baby? Show me how much. Leave hickeys on them. Make me come just like this, and maybe I'll even let you fuck them later. Don't you want that?”

An animal noise echoed from the back of Dean's throat, the smell of whiskey invading his nostrils. He wrapped the most he could of your boob in his mouth, sucking it ferociously. His hand caressing, squeezing the other one. You moaned helplessly, moving your hips towards his while his mouth praised you.

You are trapped in pleasure. Dean was lost in wonderland. This was one hell of experience, he could spend all day just playing with your boobs, kissing them like he kissed your mouth, making you come like he was eating you out. All the things he could do to you just like this were going through his lustful mind.

It didn't take longer for him to hear the most beautiful music coming reverberating from your trembling body, announcing an orgasm. His cock was still hard, ruining his underwear with pre cum and hurting against his jeans. He wanted to fuck you right on the kitchen counter, make you a cooking mess more than you already was. But the picture of your pussy, all soaked by wetness and cum came to his mind.

He pulled away, licking his lips. Dean needed to eat you out. He had his drink, it was just natural that he went to the main meal; your cunt.

Next time, he was going to get his cock in the middle of your pretty boobs, and fuck them good. Right now, Dean had to use his mouth to make you come again and ultimately get his needy cock inside your tight walls.

Leave a comment and REBLOG. Feedback is magic! Tags on my reblog, send me and ask or dm if you wish to be on my taglist!

#dean winchester x reader #kinktober #dean x you #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #supernatural #spn #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagines #spn reader insert #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader smut #supernatural smut #kinktober day 16

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colorseeingchick · 4 years

Text

Onigiri and Second Chances

Pairing: Osamu Miya x Reader

Summary: The Black Jackals are hosting a Christmas party, and Osamu agrees to come. But there’s some details Atsumu forgot to tell him- 1, he’s supposed to mass-make Onigiri for the party, and 2, a figure from his past is making a reappearance.

Warnings: Mostly Fluff, some Angst, suggestive content, swearing

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays everyone! This is far from my best work but I hope its fun regardless !

Osamu swears he can see his breath crystalize before him in his kitchen as he plots the murder of his damned brother.

Well, plotting his brother’s demise is currently secondary to the molding of the onigiri in his hand. It feels odd, the contrast between the soft, squishy rice warming his palms as he meticulously works at it and the prickly cold that bites his forearms, bare and at the mercy of the cold air of his kitchen, unprotected by his rolled up sleeves.

Now, you probably have a lot of questions!

Why’s Osamu Miya making some lip-smacking onigiri at 4 pm on Christmas Eve?

Because his bitch of a brother tricked him.

Why’s he making 70?

Ask Atsumu smh (if it’s not abundantly clear, my boy Osamu is VERY salty).

Has he been here for like, 3 hours already?

Yeah, he sure as hell has.

Will he be here for a good few more?

Uh huh.

Why?

Well, Osamu doesn’t take onigiri lightly. 1. If he’s gonna make em for Atsumu’s party, he was gonna do em right. Even though Atsumu forgot to mention that onigiri was gonna be the special dish to Osamu- the one making the onigiri- until 10 am the day of, (I’m sure y’all get why Osamu is mad now) there wasn’t a chance in hell he was gonna let his dishes fall flat, especially for a party this big. He has a bunch of specialty flavors he’s been wanting to showcase anyways, and in the process of making so many for such a large number, he knows it’s easy to get lost in a ‘quantity over quality’ mindset. No matter the amount, Onigiri Miya’s quality never wavers (A/N: period king as you should).

But the AC being broken? That’s not a part of his plan. And it was just kinda, icing on his metaphorical cake of reasons why he’s pissed as hell right now. It makes him question if all this effort is really worth it, at least for tonight.

Osamu’s initially thought that, because his brother’s the host for this party, that maybe he should try to spruce up a bit, come in lookin like an acceptable counterpart to his charismatic, showy brother. But now? He’ll realistically be here in this kitchen till the time of the party, so he’ll show up lookin a lil rough. Effort that should’ve gone into his looks is not being put into his food. If Atsumu complains, Osamu will not hesitate to shove an onigiri up his-

It’s whatever. It’s not like he has anyone he needs to impress there anyways. He’s just the onigiri twin tonight.

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The party is in full swing when Osamu arrives. But unlike Atsumu’s usual parties, the music wasn’t blaring- it’s festive and moderate. And despite being ‘party’ attire, everyone seems a little less scandalous. I guess that’s natural when some business representatives and officials from the volleyball world are also present. Unfortunately, this does mean that Osamu is the most underdressed, but he’s come to terms with it.

But knowing his brother, there’s no way a Miya party would be fully professional. There has to be some element of childishness or stupidity somewhere in this party-

And Osamu gets his answer when he looks up.

Mistletoe. And lots of it. It’s not everywhere everywhere. But there’s more than one, and they are seemingly strategically placed.

Osamu chuckles. Leave it to his brother to try and start shit. All this means is that he has to be careful to not end up in the wrong spot with some random person. He’ll be fine.

Giant container filled with onigiri in hand, he maneuvers his way to the kitchen, nodding and smiling at his acquaintances as he goes. As he’s about to step onto the cold tile of the kitchen, he stops dead in his tracks.

Fuck his brother.

He didn’t say anything about you being here. Somebody’ll have to stop him from slugging his asshat of a twin across the face.

“SAMMMMUUUU!!!!!” Speak of the devil.

Atsumu slings his arm over his twin’s shoulder, a cup in his other hand.

“Are ya drunk?”

“Huh? No. Gotta keep it together! I’m the host after all.” Atsumu smiles wide, rather stupidly.

“Great. If yer sober, that means I can beat the ever livin’ shit outta ya and yer gonna remember.”

“Oi, oi, what did I do!? Ya just got here!” Fear shined Atsumu’s bright eyes.

“If you could like, not beat my boyfriend up, I’d appreciate it a bit, Samu-kun,” a female voice gently chimes in.

“Homura-chan, hello.” Osamu’s shoulders relax as his brother’s level-headed girlfriend pops up in between the two, giving Osamu a side hug only to watch Atsumu pout.

“Homura…” Atsumu’s whine is enough for her to placate him with a tight hug, but she continues to face Osamu.

“Why do you wanna kill him this time? Not that you’re wrong for wanting to. I’m just curious.”

“Hey!”

“He didn’t tell me they were gon be here.” Osamu’s eyes shift to you, laughing in the kitchen, talking to Hinata and Bokuto, while filling cups with hot chocolate.

“Oh I thought you were gonna yell at him for not telling you about the onigiris till this morning.”

“That too.”

“HEY!”

“But I guess it’s my fault they’re here. I invited them, they are my best friend after all. But I should have told you. I’m sorry, Samu.”

“No, no. Its fine Homura-chan. I just…”

Osamu doesn’t know how to verbalize it. He’s had a crush on you since 2nd year, and it didn’t go anywhere even through college. You two knew each other pretty well, and he almost asked you out. Emphasis on almost. Being honest, he abandoned ship when he saw some guy kissing you after class one day- he figured he had waited for too long. He cut off communication with you soon after, despite your attempts to reach out. Homura had time and time again reminded Osamu that you didn’t hate him, and he did trust her. But that didn’t help him shake off the feeling you did, and always would, resent him.

It also did not help that his stomach jumped the moment he heard your beautiful laugh resonate in the kitchen, or that his face heated up when he saw you warmly hug your cup of hot chocolate, sipping it so gently. So cute.

He’s still whipped. Fuck.

Homura nudges his shoulder, one hand intertwined with Atsumu’s. “We’re not gonna make you talk to them-”

“maybe...” adds in Atsumu.

“-But if they come up to ya, maybe it won’t be the worst thing.”

Osamu looks down, tightly gripping the strap attached to his container. “Okay,” he quietly agrees.

Atsumu slaps his brother’s shoulder with a smile and comments, “ya know where my clothes are, grab em if ya need em” before taking his leave to go entertain other guests.

“I’m assuming you have more containers?” Homura asks, standing by Osamu’s side.

“70 onigiris definitely do not fit in here.” Osamu smiles with his quip, and she smiles back.

“Figured. I’ll help ya grab the rest. Go and put that down first.” She heads towards the front door, leaving him in the doorway.

He takes a deep breath before recomposing himself, restoring his classic blank n’ bored expression. He strides into the kitchen, placing the black container down softly and attracts eyes in the process, including yours. He feels your soft gaze somehow dig into the back of his head once he swiftly turns around, walking away back to the front door. As he steps back into the winter breeze, he’s met with Homura’s knowing gaze.

“They’re single, ya know.”

Osamu huffs out cold hair, eyes closing at the sting of the wind. And somehow, the cold sting filling his lungs eased the fear in his stomach.

“I look like shit.”

“Atsu said you could take his clothes. Let’s go pick somethin’ nice out for ya.”

This is gonna be a long night.

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Osamu sits himself on the couch, a glass of champagne in one hand. Atsumu’s maroon button-up faintly smells like his signature cologne, and although he usually hates it, something about it helps Osamu channel his brother’s cockiness confidence, which feels very helpful right about now.

But the confidence he’s tryna channel can only do so much. Suna and Akaashi are both worried as they watch Osamu space out mid conversation. Its far from normal. Suna knows exactly what’s on his best friend’s mind, while Akaashi is astute enough to make a guess.

“Myaa-sam.” Akaashi gently calls to Osamu. No response.

So Suna gives him a nice kick.

“Oi!” Osamu rubs his shin.

“Talk to them, before ya go crazy and take us all down with ya,” Suna’s tone is flat and bored, but the intensity of the statement is clear.

“I dunno…”

“Myaa-sam, don’t you think it's worth a try?” Akaashi’s approach is different, soft and coaxing.

“Ya know how awkward it’s gonna be?” His leg is bouncing now.

He wants to. Very badly. But he can’t. It might only make things worse.

“It’s only awkward if ya make it awkward. And that’s comin’ from me. Ya know, from both of our personal experiences, waiting too long is the worst mistake you can make.” Suna turns his gaze back to the kitchen, wistfulness is his voice.

“We fucked up. But yer gettin’ a second chance. Don’t do it again.”

Osamu knows Suna’s pain. He knows he’s right.

“How the hell do I even start?”

Suna’s gaze shifts to something, or someone, else before quickly locking eyes with Akaashi.

“Don’t run.” He then gets up wordlessly and walks away.

Akaashi brushes his pants off before standing, a small smile resting on his face.

“Just remember Myaa-sam, you’ll only regret the things you don’t do. It’s best to be honest,” and with that, Akaashi also walks away.

As Osamu’s eyes trace Akaashi’s path of escape, his eyes are caught by you, happily bounding towards him- a smile on your face and onigiri in hand.

Yeah, that’s you for sure. Osamu is caught between the nerves in his stomach and the fuzziness in his mind as you come up to him.

“Osamu, hello! Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, L/N.”

“Can, can I sit here?”

Don’t run.

“Yeah.”

As you sit down, he notes the distance, he notes how your arms are in front of you, he notes your smile, and he notes how your eyes shine. He notes how cute you look with the onigiri tightly held in your hands.

“Your onigiri’s are amazing! I always knew you were a great cook, but I’m so sad I never got to try them before!”

“Thank you, L/N. These definitely aren’t my best, Tsumu didn’t tell me I needed to make em till this mornin’ so… I was worried they weren’t as good.”

A lie. He knows they’re not bad. But he wants you to think they can be much better.

“If this is bad then I’ll definitely have to come by and try more! Because this is the best onigiri I’ve ever had. But maybe that’s because you’re the one who made em.” You quickly move on from your comment by taking a giant bite out of your onigiri, and Osamu hopes that you don’t see how intensely his face heats up.

Are ya, flirting? With him? Nah, yer just being you, all nice and all. But that doesn’t do anything to mitigate how much you’ve just stroked his ego.

“Sounds like classic Atsumu, to forget to tell ya something important. What was your day like? Having to prep all this so fast.” You look up at him, expectantly, eagerly ready to listen to him.

Your undivided attention does illegal things to his heart, ya know.

But just like that, you two fall into your usual pace, as if y’all had never stopped talking in the first place. He tells you stories, you add in charismatic quips, you both share laughs, and slowly the gap between you two closes. Osamu’s hand is now empty of any glasses and lounges against the back of the chair right by your head. You, on the other hand, have your legs pulled up under you, your knees gently pushing against his thigh.

“Oh my gosh I should be at more Black Jackals games from now on, this sounds amazing,” you say as you wipe a tear from your eye after laughing too hard.

“If yer goin, lemme know, I can keep ya company,” Osamu lets the words fall from his mouth before he processes what he’s saying.

You pause, soaking in his words. “Really?”

Now it’s his turn to process his offer. “Uh.. only… if yer interested-”

“I’d love that.” You smile at him, excitement clear in your voice.

As Osamu indulges himself in the sight of your smile, he realizes that some rice clung to the corner of your face. Out of instinct and enabled by proximity, his hand resting in his lap reaches out to you. His hand caresses your jaw while his thumb drags against the corner of your mouth, down over your bottom lip. Out of shock, you could do nothing but stare at him as his eyes meet yours.

In this moment, in this place, time has stopped. Osamu has one thought on his mind as he thumbs at your lips.

I need to kiss them. Now.

But then he didn’t.

Osamu sharply retracts his hand, a “ah, sorry,” running off his tongue.

“You’re, you’re fine.” You look down, flustered. “I’ll, be right back.” Osamu sighs and feels his heart start to sting as you walk away, head lowered.

Fuck me. I fucked up again, didn’t I? I just didn’t want to do anything they didn’t want.

Osamu snaps back to reality as he feels a hard slap against the back of his head.

He’s ready to fight when he turns around, only to see Homura and Atsumu behind the couch.

“The fuck was that, Samu?” Atsumu aggressively yell whispers.

“What doya mean!” He knows what Atsumu means. He hates admitting Tsumu is right, but he can’t admit that.

Homura’s disappointed glare quiets him down. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to, Osamu. But if you want it, you can’t keep running away. And don’t lead them on either, that ain’t fair.”

“I didn’t know if they wanted to…” Hasn’t that always been the problem? Osamu is a confident guy. He pulls a lotta people, pretty consistently too. But you were different, always had been. Osamu never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to make you uncomfortable. Never wanted to ruin your friendship. But in trying to do that, once it was too late, he knew that’s exactly what he did. And he couldn’t find it in himself to do that again.

“They want it. I know my best friend. They want you as much as you want them, headass. So if you’re not gonna make a move, I will.” With that, Homura turns on her heels and walks away, Atsumu glaring at his brother while his girlfriend pulls him along.

That’s definitely a threat. What does it mean? Who knows! But better to not find out.

Osamu’s eyes scan the room and he finds Suna leaning up against a wall, Akaashi standing next to him. Suna’s lazy gaze makes contact with Osamu’s for a moment before closing while sipping at his hot chocolate. Akaashi’s squint also feels more piercing in this moment.

My boys are talkin’ shit about me? Incorrect, Samu. In case you have not realized, your boys are not the type to talk in the first place.

I deserve it this time though. He rubs the back of his neck as he stands up to stretch.

You do regret the things you don’t do. Dammit Akaashi. Time to talk it out.

Osamu strides through the house tryna find you. He finds you stepping down the stairs, wiping at your face. His heart shatters and he really wants nothing but to hug you. But he resists, mind determined.

“L/N.”

“Osamu! Hi um… I’m so sorry if I’ve been bothering you.”

“L/N.”

“I’ll just let you go, I don’t wanna make you anymore uncomfortable.”

“Y/N.” Osamu grabs your arm as you try and walk away and gently tugs you to face him. “Please. Can we talk?”

You pause, take a deep breath, and then turn to him, eyes still ensuring him that he has your undivided attention.

With butterflies fluttering in his stomach, he calmly speaks. “I like you.”

Your eyes widen.

“I like you a lot. Since 2nd year-”

“In college?”

“High school.”

You shudder and tears pool in the corners of your eyes. Instinct takes over Osamu as he pulls you forward with all his weight, throwing you against his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

“I’m sorry I never told ya,” he whispers to you as he rocks you side to side, your face buried in his chest and your arms tight around his back.

“I’ve always been so scared of, hurtin ya. You were one of my close friends, and I didn’t wanna mess it up over feelings. I didn’t wanna lose ya.”

You nuzzle against his chest as he feels you start to shake.

“But when I saw that guy kissin ya one day, I thought… I thought I lost you anyways. I realized I waited too long and that I made a mistake. And then I proceeded to do everythin’ I never wanted to do, I hurt ya and I fucked up our friendship.”

“Osamu, I never wanted him to kiss me.” Your voice cracks.

“...What?” His eyes go wide with concern and confusion.

“He kissed me outta the blue. I thought we were just friends but he didn’t see it that way. I was just being myself, though. But right after that I told him there was someone else I liked.”

Osamu internally hits himself. Maybe he should just ask Atsumu to punch him. How could he be so fuckin’ stupid?

“I was gonna confess to you after that, but that’s when you dipped on me. I didn’t know what I did, and Homura told me to talk to you and find out for myself- she said it’d be fine if I talked to you, and that I should learn to communicate with you but I… I didn’t reach out. That’s my fault.”

Osamu pulls you closer to him, crushing you as much as he could. It’s his turn to shed a few tears, in frustration and pain. He coulda been with you all this time, but he was being a headass. Maybe Homura should punch him instead.

“I’m...I’m so so sorry Y/N. I missed ya so much.” He cradles you in his arms, a calming (self-calming) sigh falling through his lips.

“I’ve missed you too, Samu.”

You two look at each other for a good, long moment before small smiles crawl onto your faces. Osamu pulls you against him once more.

“Let’s try this again. I wanna get it right this time.”

“Sounds good to me.” You say, sniffles stopping and giggles rising out of your chest.

He buries his nose into the top of your head drawing in the sweet smell of your shampoo while his hands grab onto your fluffy sweater.

“So cute! NOW KISS.” You and Osamu jolt out of your hug when Atsumu barks. All Osamu’s (and your) friends had now come to look at you two, smiles all around.

Akaashi smiles fondly. Suna smiles lazily, and your favorite dumb Black Jackals (Bokuto and Hinata), who were unaware of any history between you two, are now in shock while also smiling like crazy.

“Get it, Mya-samm!” Bokuto cheers out, causing everyone to erupt into laughter.

“Wait, wait!” Atsumu runs down the hall, jumps, and then runs right up to his twin. He then proceeds to hold a mistletoe right above yours and Osamu’s head.

“ I’ve been waitin’ for this shit to happen for Ion even know how many years. No chickenin’ out of it this time.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, jackass.”

Osamu’s hands find their way to your cheeks, gently caressing it with his fingers running up and down your jaw. His eyes take their time inspecting every inch of your face, mentally mapping every beautiful feature that adorns you. With the fire hot in his stomach and his lips aching, he pulls your face to meet his, lips gently massaging yours, telling you everything he had said earlier all over again, but this time with his actions.

He likes you. A lot. For years. And he’s missed you so much.

He slows the kiss down, taking his time to let you feel his lips against yours. When your hands reach up to hold his face he can’t help but try and pull you closer.

As he pulls away after a mere 30 seconds, which did indeed feel like forever, his adrenaline is pumping and his smile is uncontrollable. The whooping and hollering slowly starts to die down, not that either of you heard it while so focused on the other.

Osamu’s eyes find Suna’s. Suna has his camera out, as per usual, but his face has a small smile on it, and he nods to his best friend. With that, he nudges Akaashi and they walk back to to the family room.

“Alright alright let’s get going boys. We have games that need to be played.” Homura grabs Bokuto and Hinata by the arm and collar (respectively) after giving a look to you.

In that moment, Atsumu winked at Osamu while doing the ‘okay’ sign with his hands before walking to the room with everyone else.

It was a signal the two had established way back in high school, when he and Homura started dating. It was their nonverbal sign of permission to the other twin for guaranteed privacy- which was important in a household of shared rooms and shared, well, everything.

“What now Samu?” You look up at him, tugging him closer now that everyone else was gone.

“I’m not done with ya just yet.” He smiles down at you, his eyes mischievous.

You tilt your head in confusion.

“I’m throwin ya over my shoulder, okay?”

“Yes but why-”

With that, Osamu sweeps you off the floor and throws you over his right shoulder easily.

“I messed up for years of my life, and now I have to make up for lost time. I told ya I’m not done with ya just yet.”

Osamu proceeds to carry you up the stairs, giggles falling from your mouth.

He’s gonna make sure you know much he really likes you. He’ll shower you in so much love, there won’t be a doubt left in your mind.

He promises.

Epilogue- the next day

As the Black Jackals all slept like logs in their rooms, the smell of pancakes and coffee filled the air, attracting some of the other guests.

Some of the other boys, Suna, Akaashi, and Osamu, had all slept over, and were the among the first to find their way to the kitchen.

“Samu, did Y/N get home ok?” Homura asks him while flipping some pancakes at the stove.

Rubbing his eyes as he approaches her with a cup of coffee in hand, he nods. “Happy n’ safe.”

“I’m very glad.”

“Homura-chan, I have a question for ya.”

“Yes?”

“You knew both of our sides of the story from a long time ago. Why did ya never say anythin’? I’m not mad but I’m tryna figure it out.”

She smiles before saying, “It didn’t feel right. I love you both. A lot, obviously. But I think we both know intervening can... make things worse. A lot worse.”

A shared memory flashes through their minds.

“And on top of that, I don’t think it would’ve solved the real issue both of you had. I wanted y’all to be happy in a relationship, but that meant y’all would have some barriers to cross. Y’all needed to grow before you could work as a couple. So I figured time would do its work.”

“Although!!” Atsumu’s bright voice cuts in as he marches into the kitchen, wrapping his girlfriend in his arms, “us not telling you they were coming yesterday was 100% planned.”

“And not telling me about onigiris?”

“Yeah that was intentional. Had to keep ya away from the house long enough.”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya, Tsumu.”

A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed! The ambiguity with Suna, Osamu, and Homura was intentional, so stay tuned!!!

#haikyu #haikyuu #haikyu fluff #haikyu angst #osamu miya #osamu x reader #osamu fluff #osamu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu oneshot #haikyu imagines #haikyu imagine #osamu imagine #miya osamu imagines #osamu miya x reader #osamu x you #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #colorseeingchick writes

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kyoonqs · 4 years

Text

iluso amor ; second part.

↬ summary: Cora has always considered herself elusive, easy to bore and adventurous to the last fiber of her body. One day for no apparent reason, she appears in front of the manager of a globetrotting circus passing through the city where she is temporarily staying to fill her life with magic. Baekhyun, as serious as he is handsome, has no intention of playing a role other than on the main canvas of the circus. He decides to separate Cora from her life of fantasies created by her travels and sets out to show her reality as raw and cruel as he knows it. Or so he believes.

Will time run out too quickly before love and passion devour him and he decides to risk everything for a love that lasts… Forever?

↬ pairing: baekhyun x cora fem!reader.

↬ circus!au ; illusionist!baek x hitchhiker!oc ; strangers to lovers au!

↬ genre: fluff ; romance ; angst ; drama.

↬ length: 3.6 k words.

↬ tag list: @changshapatrol @spacebyuns @fluffyhunnie @soos-goddess @hoho-cham @shadoukiti @sunbyun21 @mangobaek @suhotly @pororodks @bbhbae @blahblahblah-boo

If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know!

↬ masterlist.

Baekhyun was giving orders, simultaneously lending a hand to the circus men and Cora noticed the tense muscles in his arms as he loaded seats into the forklift and pulled the rope. At that moment she remembered that when he had left her alone, she had roamed the caravan from start to finish, only to find one of his whips on the bed. Despite seeing his conduct at the show, she couldn't help but feel threatened. It was then that she realized she had no courage to sleep in the trailer, not even on the couch.

–“Come on, let's go to bed.” The last vestiges of the dream vanished and Cora was immediately on guard. The darkness was absolute, she couldn't see anything. Most of the trucks were gone and the workers with them.

–“I have decided to sleep here.”

–“Outside? I don’t think so. In case you haven't noticed, you're shivering.” He was right. It wasn't cold when she had first stepped outside, but the temperature had dropped since then.

–“Take this as a friendly warning. I've barely slept in three days. First we had a storm and we almost lost the circus cover, then I had to make two trips. I’m not an easygoing person in the best of circumstances, but I’m even worse when I don’t sleep.” He raised the arm at her side and she hissed in alarm when she saw a whip twisted into his hand. Cora gasped when Baekhyun grabbed her arm and pulled Cora to her feet without putting up much resistance. He opened the door to the trailer and turned on the light, gently nudging her elbow to enter. Was it just Cora's imagination or had the inside of the trailer shrunk since she'd first seen it?

–“Please don't touch me again.”

–“I'm too tired to think of anything you imagine I can do to you, if that's what you're concerned about.” His words did not reassure her.

–“Why do you carry the whip everywhere? Are you threatening me?”

He muttered something under his breath, closed the door and walked over to the bed to sit down. He dropped the whip to the ground, but the handle still rested on his knee. She looked at him apprehensively.

On one hand, Cora had promised to continue her journey, he hadn't hurt her or anyone else but on the other, there was no doubt that he scared her. She wasn't very skilled at fighting, but she knew what to do when the time came necessary. She steeled herself.

–“I think we should clear things up. I want you to know that I will not be able to live with you if you keep intimidated me in this way.”

–“Intimidating you? What are you talking about?”. Her nervousness increased, but she forced herself to continue.

–“I guess you can't help it. It's probably because of the way you grew up, although it's not that I believed that story you told onstage. Your lack of sanity?” She paused. “Because it's fake, right?”.

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

–“Yes, of course it is,” she hastened to say.

–“What I mean by intimidating, I mean your attitude and …” she took a deep breath, “that whip.”

–“What's the matter with it?”. Cora shut her eyes. With a wrinkle of her nose she bit her lip and took a deep breath before starting again.

–“If you have that kind of inclination, I would appreciate you telling me now instead of giving hints.”

–“What are you talking about?”. He continued to stare blankly at her, until she screamed in frustration.

–“For the love of God! If you intend to hit me for pleasure, tell me. Hey, Cora, I like to whip people for pleasure, and you're next on the list. At least I would know what's on your mind”.

His eyebrows raised, “Would that make you feel better?”

She nodded.

–“As you wish.” Baekhyun looked at her with sparkling eyes and repeated the same phrase she tried to dictate to him seconds ago. He excused himself saying he was going to shower, went into the bathroom and closed the door. Cora nibbled on her lower lip. That hadn't exactly gone as planned.

Baekhyun chuckled as the shower water poured onto his body. Cora had given him more fun in the past ten hours than he'd gotten in the entire year before. Or maybe even more. His life was normally a very serious matter. Laughter was a luxury he hadn't been able to afford very often. But it was only natural when he had spent his whole life chasing something.

He remembered her comment about a fetish...maybe? But it would have spoiled the fun if he had explained that he always carried a whip when he knew the workers had been drinking.

Traveling circuses were like a war zone when it came to solving problems –they had to be prevented before they arose– and the sight of the whip was a very dissuasive measure to alleviate the temper of some.

Despite how much the last confrontation with the girl had amused him, he had a feeling that the fun would not last long. This year he was putting him to the test, first a promise made to the circus owner on his deathbed: to do one last tour with the circus, and second the challenges that came with navigating one, including Cora.

As he let the water run off the shampoo, he thought about his past. Baekhyun had known the circus since he was eight years old and one of them spent the summer touring the towns of the Spanish coast. He would never forget that afternoon when he had accompanied his father to make the profit tally of imported products to Korea and the noise of a crowd gathered on the avenue caught his attention.

He remembered how after begging his mother to convince his father to take him to a show – it had become his absolute dream to become a circus performer. This dream would seemingly collapse at 18 when his father gave him maturity lessons during summer vacation. After that he’d traveled with the circus to earn money, and then much later, in adulthood, when every few years he left his life behind and spent a few months on the road.

Baekhyun's character had been shaped by his father's wise sermons and his always astute observations about the world and how hard it was for a man to survive. A man had to work hard, take care of himself, and maintain his pride.

Circumstances had made him that way, a tough and stubborn man who lived by his own code with no illusions about himself. And Cora... she lived in a dream world created from travel and tourist places.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbed another to dry his hair, and opened the bathroom door. Cora gulped when the bathroom door opened and he stepped out. While he dried his head with the towel, she took the opportunity to look carefully at what seemed a perfect body, with well-defined but not excessively toned muscles. Baekhyun possessed a broad chest and shoulders, hips considerably narrower than said shoulders and his abdomen was flat, hard. Her gaze followed the arrow of hair that started at the navel and continued under the towel. Suddenly, she felt heated as she wondered what it would be like below.

–“I'll drop the towel in five seconds.” He deprived her of the vision of his chest when he turned his back on her and headed for the bed.

She quickly grabbed some clean underwear and a faded Kyung Hee University t-shirt that she had found on the same couch, surely belonging to Baekhyun – and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door.

Twenty minutes later, she came out of the shower fresh with his shirt on. She had decided that it was preferable to wear this over the only nightgown she had, a tiny pink silk babydoll with lots of lace that her aunt had given her in case she "conquered" European men.

He slept on his back, the sheet covering his bare hips. It wasn’t right to look at a person while they were sleeping, but she couldn't stop doing it. She walked to the foot of the bed and watched him, looking up from his abdomen to his chest to admire the perfect symmetry of the male torso. Asleep, he didn't look the same.

Cora's hands tingled with the urge to caress his cheeks and comb his hair. She didn't understand how it was the same man who had scared her to the point of wanting to bolt out of there, she wanted to understand what was going through his mind, she wanted to approach him and tell him that she wasn’t as dumb as she seemed.

She stared at him for a few minutes more, swearing to herself that she would do her best to figure out and ease the weight on his shoulders. She lay back on the sofa and tried to fall asleep as soon as possible. Starting tomorrow, a new chapter of her life will begin.

–“Wake up, dulzura. We have a long day ahead of us.”

She rolled onto her stomach. He tugged on the sheet and Cora felt the cool air brush against the back of her bare thighs. She refused to move. If she did, she would have to face a new day. She buried her face deeper into the pillow. She felt a soft and warm hand rest in her hair, curling it back softly, clearing her face so that the Sun –which was barely peeking out– would illuminate her face. She rejoiced in the caress. Baekhyun was grinning widely but she missed it by putting up resistance to getting up.

Only when he pulled his hand away did she slowly open her eyes to see that he was already dressed and shaved at that unholy hour. Baekhyun glanced at her body, reminding her that she was actually practically naked under the sheet, just dressed in an old t-shirt of his and some rather compromising panties. When she realized it, she rolled onto her back and pulled the sheet up to cover herself with it.

–“We have almost three hours of travel ahead of us and we will be leaving in ten minutes. Get dressed and do something useful.” He turned away from her and went to the sink.

–“It's still night.” Cora and squinted at the gray morning light streaming through the dirty little windows.

–“It's almost six o'clock.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and raised the mug to his lips.

–“I'll stay in here while you drive.”

–“It’s illegal.” Baekhyun set the coffee cup on the table, then reached down to quickly pick up the clothes from the floor. He examined her critically and handed her a pair of jeans that had been hanging over the armrest of the chair.

Cora wanted to say something funny but was sure he would not be amused, so she reluctantly went to the bathroom. Ten minutes later she came out dressed and noticed that he was in front of the open kitchen cupboard, somewhat indecisive and it could even be said that a certain sadness claimed his face. She noticed that on the sink was an apple, a packaged cupcake, the last of the oatmeal frosts from the jar that contained them, and a recyclable bottle of what looked like yogurt.

–“Um... this morning you can eat whatever you want, you don't have many options but I know you can satisfy your stomach with this. From the next purchase we’ll have to divide the food between us. The circus is beautiful but it doesn’t leave much profit.” It was the first time she had heard him so dejected, almost regretful and that confirmed Cora's suspicion: his gruff behavior possessed a reason so she would try her best to not be another burden. She just hoped that Baekhyun would build the confidence to share his troubles.

She murmured a "thank you" as soft and delicate as she could when he stepped past her, scratching the back of his neck as if the situation had made him more uncomfortable than it should. She decided that from now on, she would try not to feel scared in front of him and that she would be the strong woman her mother had instilled in her to be.

They barely spoke during the first hour of travel. Since he hadn't given her enough time to get ready, Cora had to finish “putting on makeup” –she was only able to apply lip balm and blush– in the truck and comb her hair as best she could despite the bumps on the road, holding her hair in a high ponytail which she braided first then decorated at the end with a patterned fabric bow. Baekhyun observed her as much as he could from the corner of his eye, avoiding a smile that would give him away and enjoying how her hair twisted when she moved her fingers from side to side. He thought that with her washed face she looked prettier than the day before. The shadows in her eyes distracted from the color and spark they possessed and the lipstick widened her lips to the point that they appeared be swollen.

Around mid-morning, Baekhyun bought orange juice, some cereal bars and two packaged sandwiches. He stopped the truck in a place decorated with flags and logs cut to a length that suggested they were to be used for seating. After eating, Cora went to the bathroom and tried to find money with which she could return the favor to Baekhyun, but she only found some coupons from a previous job and some tokens for the spreading machine.

When she came out she realized two things: one, an attractive waitress was flirting with Baekhyun and two, he was doing absolutely nothing to discourage her.

Cora watched him tilt his head and smile at something the girl had said. She experienced a twinge of jealousy as he seemed to be enjoying the waitress's company more than her own. She made up her mind to ignore what was happening but then it came to her recollection she’d never explicitly let on to having feelings for Baekhyun. Cora feared that if she came on too strongly, crossed barriers he wasn’t ready to do away with just yet, she’d never have the opportunity to get closer. Though he had been fairly hospitable, there was always an air of reluctance that clouded his every interaction with her, a sort of underlying anxiety she couldn’t quite place. With resignation, she straightened her shoulders and approached the table where she gave the clerk her most radiant smile.

–“Thank you very much for keeping this dulzura company. Most of the time, he doesn’t like talking.” The waitress seemed somewhat surprised by Cora's friendly demeanor. She then lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “It was very kind of her, wasn't it, mi amor?”.

Baekhyun choked on his coffee. She leaned in to pat him on the back while giving the girl a beaming smile.

Controlling his cough, he stood up from the table with an expression even angrier than was usual for him. Before he had a chance to open his mouth, Cora reached out and brought it to her lips so he wouldn't say anything. He looked at her like he was going to strangle her, but he just tossed several bills on the table and shoved her out of the restaurant.

–“Are you going to get mad about a little joke? Haven't you gotten used to clowns yet?” Cora's shoes slipped on the gravel as he dragged her toward the truck and the ugly trailer.

–“I already told you, you’re the grumpiest man I have ever met. And it doesn't suit you, not at all, Baekhyun. Let me tell you something, I was right, you look much more handsome smiling.”

He halted in his tracks and although she hoped he would say something to her, perhaps return the compliment, he continued his accelerated march to the truck. Disappointed, she grabbed the door handle, pulled and seated herself on the passenger side. Moments later they were back on the road.

The morning was sunny. The warm air coming in through the ajar window was not yet suffocating. Cora couldn't find any reason for him to sulk on such a perfect and beautiful morning, so she finally broke the silence.

So far Baekhyun had been cooperative, he had commented that they were going to Fraga, they would spend two nights there and then they would continue traveling through the rest of Huesca. They had 4 months ahead of it, a life of trips and tours that were only missed once the season was over, exhausting but full of colors and renewed illusions in the face of each person who made up the audience during their performances. She wished they’d already given a place in the show. She still had little clue as to what she would have to go through first.

–“This will be the last season of the circus. So we will put in our best efforts. The owner passed away at the beginning of the year and his wife, Algeria, has inherited the circus and has put it up for sale.” He said, pressing his lips together almost imperceptibly. Cora noticed anyway.

–“Have you been at the circus a long time?” she asked, determined to find out more about him.

–“I go and come. I traveled with the circus from my teenage years until I was twenty. Since then I’ve come and gone.” She took the time to appreciate him better than she could the night before, surprised that he was speaking so "openly" and that he wasn't growling in the middle of her questioning.

The questions didn’t stop there, Cora would take her time asking him as much as she could but she had been somewhat disappointed when he didn't ask her any in return. Suddenly she remembered that she was there for work and decided to inform Baekhyun that she had never set foot in a job as artistic as the circus.

–“I just wanted to say that I don't know anything about the circus world.”

–“You'll learn. Gael, the guy who normally runs the locker, has to be away for a couple of days. You’ll be taking his place until he returns, and then you can join the show. We open the function with the parade presentation. Later we can look for the act you’ll be joining.”

She only made an approving sound. For now she was only counting the moles that were spread evenly and in isolation from his face to his ears and even fingers.

They continued traveling several miles in silence while she pondered what he had told her. But it was what he hadn’t said that worried her the most. Unknown to her, the word "love" –amor as she had called him in front of the waitress– had been bouncing around inside his skull. Baekhyun had been thinking that perhaps Cora wasn’t as empty-headed as he initially believed and perhaps he liked the nickname more than he expected.

↬ author’s note: today's chapter has been a little longer, hope you enjoy it! as you know, any feedback is welcome ♡ and must tell you something important, pay attention to the small details, they will play an important role in the plot! last but not least, thanks to Oliv for her help and time invested in helping me get each part correctly narrated.

#baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #baekhyun angst #baekhyun x oc #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun drabble #baekhyun drabbles #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #circus au #iluso amor

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ginmo · 4 years

Text

Telegraphing vs. Foreshadowing.

“Telegraphing is giving away too much, too soon, thereby ruining the suspense, or the impact of the event.

When you foreshadow, the reader usually doesn’t notice it when they initially read it. But later they might have an “aha” moment, remember it, and put two and two together. Often foreshadowing can’t even be detected until someone reads your novel for a second time. It’s that subtle.

But telegraphing works the opposite. The reader notices the telegraphing detail, groans, and predicts what’s going to happen. It takes the fun out of reading a novel. Envision the important event, or piece of information that your reader’s going to learn, like a balloon. Telegraphing is like letting some of the air out of the balloon ahead of time, so when the time comes for the “pop” you get a fizzle instead.” [x]

The two Mr. “Themes Are For 8th Graders” are horrible at telling the difference between telegraphing and foreshadowing. The show has both, but that’s because they treat them as the same and can’t tell them apart. My favorite example:

Jaime S5: I want to die in the arms of the woman I love.

Jaime S8: Dies, lovingly, in the arms of the woman he was surface level referring to.

Proper foreshadowing would have been Jaime dying (in battle or of old age) in the arms of the woman he loved, but the woman being someone different than he and the surface viewers had in mind at the moment he had made the comment. Foreshadowing involves subtext and subtlety, not straight up spoiling the fucking death.

As for the books, literally every popular (red flag right there) Jaime and Cersei prediction for their endgame is an example of telegraphing. Their predictions stem 100% from what's written right on the page, zero subtext, interpreting it as is.

Jaime believes he’ll only ever love Cersei, so Jaime will only ever love Cersei.

Cersei believes Jaime will always be devoted to her, so Jaime will always be devoted to her.

Brienne doesn’t think love is an option for her, so love will never be an option for her.

Westeros and surface readers think Jaime is dishonorable trash, so he will start and end as dishonorable trash.

The twins believe they will die together, no matter what, so they will die together. Since they came into the world together they obviously will go out together.

This quote from GRRM is pretty fucking telling.

“There’s an element of sociopathy to it, where it’s the two of us and no one else really counts, especially outside their family. They’re twins, they were born together, they have a feeling that they’re going to die together. There’s this bonding that they’re two halves of a whole, so who else would they pair with? Anything else is lesser.” [x]

The hilarious thing about this is some people view this as GRRM confirming that anything is lesser and that they will die together which... is... telegraphing LMAO. Why am I not surprised they take every fucking thing at face value.

I’m going to quote @jaimetheexplorer, because she explained the entire GRRM quote wonderfully

“ GRRM is careful to specify that that’s a feeling they have, it’s not a truth. He might obviously be avoiding spoilers, but I think there’s more to it than that, in the sense that he is using that belief of theirs as an example of the level of unhealthy obsession and delusion in their relationship. This is the point at which their story begins; the point at which they buy into this notion that they’re two halves of a whole and the only ones who matter. I already discussed in part 1 about narrative arcs, how perhaps the main part of Jaime and Cersei’s story is about discovering that they’re not two halves of a whole, and set off on opposite journeys. Indeed, Jaime’s quote comes from early on in his POV, before he returns to King’s Landing and his disillusion with Cersei begins to set in. And GRRM is indeed raising a question that will be addressed later, as their story unfolds: “who else would they pair with?”. Of course, at the beginning of their story, the answer is nobody because “anything else is lesser”, but will that still be the answer in the future? (6’3” hint - probably not).“

I’m going to do a checklist here:

[x] Nobody else matters (someone else matters)

He already began slowly and subtly addressing this. “no one else really counts, especially outside their family.” Brienne, someone outside the family, is stepping into a position where Jaime believes she counts. He punched her former betrothed, because the dude made fun of her. Jaime then sent him to the other side of Westeros, so he didn’t have to look at him. He literally views her as his protector. He left Cersei to die and then ran off to follow Brienne in their mission to help Sansa, another person outside the family.

________________________________________________

[x] Two halves of a whole (as the story progresses they’re finding out they’re more different than they thought)

How could I ever have loved that wretched creature? she wondered after he had gone. He was your twin, your shadow, your other half, another voice whispered. Once, perhaps, she thought. No longer. He has become a stranger to me. - CERSEI, AFFC

I thought that I was the Warrior and Cersei was the Maid, but all the time she was the Stranger, hiding her true face from my gaze. - JAIME, AFFC

________________________________________________

[x] Die together (the feeling dissipating/not telegraphing)

He even destroyed the “They’re twins, they have a feeling that they’re going to die together.” Keep in mind that they believe they’re dying together, no matter what, precisely because they’re twins.“They’re twins" starts the sentence. They literally think they’re dying together because they’re intertwined, that they can never be separated, that they’re going out at the same time because of that forever twin bond they’re tied to one another. That’s it. Good or bad (murder/suicide) doesn’t matter. Again,twins, so context doesn’t matter.

That “feeling” is also starting to go away when the realization starts to set in that they aren’t as similar as they had thought (therefore not two halves of a whole. Hello separation theme, which means dying together defeats the point). Jaime abandoned Cersei to her death and then, when thinking about going back to KL, he’s all “meh, she may already be dead idk.” That feeling seems to be dissipating on Jaime’s end.

Hm. Sounds like chipping away at the telegraphing by story and character progression.

Oh.. oh... and what’s next???

________________________________________________

[x] Who else would they pair with? Anything else is lesser (falls in love and pairs with another woman)

IDK GRRM WILL ONE OF THEM PAIR WITH ANOTHER?? LMAO HOW ABOUT NO BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN CONSTANTLY SAYING THAT CERSEI DOESN’T THINK SO AND THEY’VE THOUGHT FROM THE BEGINNING THAT THEY WERE INSEPARABLE SO OBVIOUSLY NO

WHO WOULD THIS OTHER PERSON EVEN BE???? IDK MAN

a woman.”

“A woman?” Cersei stared at him, uncomprehending. “What woman? Why? Where did they go?”

“No one knows. We’ve had no further word of him. The woman may have been the Evenstar’s daughter, Lady Brienne.”

Her. The queen remembered the Maid of Tarth, a huge, ugly, shambling thing who dressed in man’s mail. Jaime would never abandon me for such a creature. My raven never reached him, elsewise he would have come. - CERSEI, AFFC

BTW I put that quote in almost everything I write since it’s one of my favorites because lmfao dude what a beautiful moment

So like, call me crazy, but if we’re talking foreshadowing instead of telegraphing here, then I think it’s maybe the woman who doesn’t believe love is available to her, the same woman who Cersei believes Jaime would never abandon her for because superficial looks.

AND according to his editor:

...it is easier to tell when he’s overplaying a hand and revealing things too early if you don’t actually know going in what will happen. That said, now that I’ve realized his three-fold revelation strategy, I see it in play almost every time. The first, subtle hint for the really astute readers, followed later by the more blatant hint for the less attentive, followed by just spelling it out for everyone else. It’s a brilliant strategy, and highly effective

Yeah, okay, he’s telegraphing.

#jaime lannister #jaime x brienne #brienne of tarth #asoiaf #cersei lannister #grrm

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precuredaily · 5 years

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Precure Day 164

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 16 - “Komachi Abandons Being a Novelist!?” Date watched: 8 December 2019 Original air date: 20 May 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/5aTOPye Transformation Gallery: https://imgur.com/a/6k6SzS0 Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

honestly this is true

Oh Nuts, what have you done? You’ve gone and hurt Komachi’s feelings with your bluntness and now all the other girls are upset at you. Meanwhile, Despariah has started making moves in Nightmare. How wil this end for our heroines?

The Plot

Komachi shares a draft of her novel, Pirate Hurricane with the other girls, and they all love it. Coco suggests she have Nuts read it, because he’s a voracious reader and might offer some good feedback. However, he returns and says he doesn’t understand what she was trying to say with the story and if the author has to explain the meaning, then it’s not very good. Okay he actually says “It’s worthless as a book.” Harsh. This upsets Komachi and she leaves for the day, while the other four scold Nuts for his rudeness. He maintains that he didn’t do anything wrong by giving his asked-for opinion, and feels no need to apologize. However, Coco can tell that he’s angry at himself for hurting her and wants to make amends.

Over in Nightmare HQ, a meeting between Bunbee, Arachnea, and Kawarino gets interrupted by Despariah herself, making her first full appearance:

She explains that the Palmier Kingdom should be in despair, but they cling to hope because of the Dream Collet, so they need to crush Precure, retrieve the collet, plunge the kingdom into despair, and then she will be satisfied.

The next day, Nuts receives a visitor at his shop: a tall girl riding a motorcycle who looks like an older Komachi. This is Akimoto Madoka and she has come to deliver some mamedaifuku from their shop at the behest of her younger sister, Komachi. Some banter between him and the other girls clues Madoka into what’s going on, and she takes Nuts’s side, explaining that Komachi is the type to sulk after having her feelings hurt, and that if she can’t handle this level of criticism, she won’t make it as an author. Nozomi, Karen, Rin, and Urara take objection to this, insisting that she’s really talented, can improve her writing with hard work and practice, that she resembles the main character in her story who never gives up, and that she can pull through because her feelings are that strong. Madoka says she’ll pass that encouragement on, but Nuts asks to go see her in person, so she brings him to the Akimoto residence and summons her sister.

Their reunion is awkward and Komachi berates her own work and herself for daring to feel happy about it. Nuts tries to encourage her by saying “Are your dreams so worthless that you’d sell them away for nothing!?” which is not a particularly helpful statement. The other four girls emerge from the bush they were hiding in to chew out Nuts again, and he tries to explain that he’s not mad at her, but before he can explain himself, they all get sucked into the pages of Komachi’s manuscript. They awaken on the deck of the pirate ship in the story, as Arachnea taunts that they’re all going to drown at sea and it will be an unhappy ending. She creates a Kowaina out of the ship’s mast and rigging, and the girls transform. However, the monster is very fast and manages to tie them up in ropes and thrash them around, flinging them into walls and floors and even the water. Mint blames herself for creating this world, but Nuts says she should be angry at being used, and that nothing will change if she just blames herself. He reiterates that she’ll improve at writing if she keeps practicing. Arachnea isn’t interested in this conversation and the monster whips around again, causing Nuts to drop the Dream Collet. He hurries to retrieve it but Arachnea lunges towards him at breakneck speed. It doesn’t look good... until Mint jumps in and retrieves him at the last second!

She insists that her story is not a tragedy and she determines what the ending is! She blocks Arachnea and the Kowaina with Mint Protection, Dream kicks at her while Lemonade uses Lemonade Flash to distract her, Rouge binds the Kowaina in its own ropes, and Aqua uses Aqua Stream to destroy the monster! Arachnea beats a retreat while muttering that the story is lame.

When they return to Komachi’s house, Nuts tells her that her story has lots of room for improvement, but he likes the main character, finds the idea good, and says that she can bring out the story’s potential if she keeps polishing it. Komachi vows to rewrite her story and invites Nuts to read her next draft.

The Analysis

The core of this episode is about how to deliver and respond to criticism. Nuts may be well-meaning in his remarks but his tone is very curt and tactless. Komachi takes his comments deeply personally and feels that she is a failure as an author. The reality is that, as an aspiring author, Komachi needs to get used to criticism, and that critique of a work isn’t inherently an outright condemnation of the work or the author. Since this is evidently her first attempt at writing a more serious work than a school essay, it’s inevitable that there are going to be a lot of problems structurally, narratively, in the pacing, tone, etc. Her peers all find her work to be good, because they’re not used to picking apart more long-form and complicated stories, but their praise makes her overconfident, and that’s when Nuts comes along and tears her down. I can completely understand why she’s hurt. I know I’ve poured my heart out in writing before only for it to come back marked up to hell and have lots of comments about flow, redundancy, and things like that. Having your hard work torn apart like that can hurt. But when done right, it’s a necessary part of helping you to improve your skills. At the end, Komachi realizes that her work has value and takes ownership of it, refusing to let Arachnea dictate the ending for her, which I love.

That’s another note: Nuts, at the start, was not being a very good critic. He basically said “It’s bad and I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish.” He didn’t give her much guidance on what to improve, and he didn’t really recognize this until confronted. He knew he hurt Komachi, he wanted to make amends, and during the climax he was able to say “If you keep practicing, you’ll get better at writing” and finally at the end he told her aspects of the story that he liked, and areas she could improve upon. That’s how you go about criticism, and that’s what I try to do in my reviews is to say “I didn’t like this because X and I think it would be better if Y.” Sometimes I may not have a better idea, but I’ll at least try to justify my dislike. Nuts has to fight his own visceral reactions in order to help Komachi improve as a writer, and that represents growth for him. He cares about people, he’s just bad at showing it, and Nuts and Komachi’s relationship through these two seasons will be another big one to explore and watch develop. I like his body language throughout. He keeps his arms crossed or in his pockets, he’s usually looking down, he knows he screwed up but he’s too proud to admit it. At the end when he finally talks to her and gives her positive feedback, he can’t look her in the eyes, because he’s still embarrassed, but his eyes are pointed up. It’s progress.

Next order of business is Akimoto Madoka. She looks a lot like her younger sister, which is to be expected, but she’s taller, has a fuller figure, has lighter colored hair, and her hairstyle is more practical than Komachi’s mullet, as Madoka just wears a typical bob cut.

Madoka has a very easy-going personality, really embodying the “cool older sibling” trope. She’s first introduced riding a motorcycle, and she instantly bonds with Nozomi and co, while being unphased by Nuts’s initial rudeness. She is very astute and quickly picks up on the strife between Nuts and Komachi. The only time she seems to get at all upset is when the gang is making a big commotion, and that’s because they all got sucked into Komachi’s story. She serves as a good foil for her somewhat timid sister, and knows how to push her in the right direction. She’s an enjoyable character who I’d like to see recur. I believe she makes a few subsequent appearances but I don’t remember how often, so we’ll experience that together.

Let’s change sides and talk about Nightmare! This is our first full look at Despariah, and wow is she something. She wears a white mask resembling a traditional Japanese doll, her long golden hair is styled in an edo fashion, shaped like a fan with four tendrils emerging from gem on her forehead, and two side locks that come down to her waist. She wears a dark colored dress with a kimono collar, and huge shoulder pads. Her shoulders are extremely broad while her waist is very narrow, giving her inhuman proportions. She commands your attention and you can tell she’s in charge. There’s still some mystery to her appearance even here, because she’s only seen sitting at her desk, and most of the time she’s distorted by the effect of the screen she’s displayed on within Nightmare HQ.

brutal

I appreciate how she cut into the corporate bickering and explained, in no uncertain terms, where the problem was with their operation, despite having already conquered the Palmier Kingdom and supposedly plunging them into despair. Bunbee needs some hand-holding to follow her logic, but it comes down to defeating Precure and retrieving the Dream Collet so she can gain immortality and crush the hope of the rest of the world. She means business.

Arachnea’s plan this round was pretty inspired, especially compared to some of her lesser hits like luring the girls into the sewer for no reason. Sucking them all into Komachi’s book and using her own created world against her? That’s twisted! And she really hammers in the idea that she is in control of the narrative now and they’re all going to drown, trying to attack Komachi’s self esteem at the same time as literally attacking her. I respect that, in the sense that you respect a good villain plot, because it’s better than pure physical attacks. Also there’s a moment, where Arachnea sees the Dream Collet on the ground, that she LUNGES and it’s pretty incredible.

All of these elements combine to make another fantastic episode. I had forgotten just how strong the first half of Yes 5 was, and I’m really glad to be revisiting it for this project. They’re doing a good job at balancing out a lot more main characters than in previous shows, even if it’s at the cost of memorable supporting characters. However, there’s room for diversity in this franchise, so a different spin on the idea is fine. It’s working very well so far, after all!

Next tine on Precure Daily, Rin has a crush! Also it’s time to sell a Precure-branded toy that otherwise has absolutely nothing to do with the show. Look forward to it?

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 1 Kettei!

#Precure #Pretty Cure #Yes! Precure 5 #YPC516 #PCD164

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years

Text

Rick In The Water; Ch3: Neon Moon

Summary: Rick takes you on an adventure! And then things get real. REAL EMOTIONAL

A/N: UGH. I had such a hard time finding a stopping point for this chapter. I'm still not happy with it, but I've been working on it for days and there's other stuff I wanna get to. So. Sorry if the ending of this chapter suuuuucks CW: We’ve moved on from the abuse for a little while, there’s still talk of it though Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 5725

My ao3

Masterlist

|Ch2: Snap Out Of It|

The next few weeks were an adjustment period, but it seemed Rick's dampener was working as he intended. It was almost like my husband had gone back to the person I'd met and fallen in love with all those years ago. I wanted to fall back into him, to let this just be my life now, but I was haunted by what Rick had told Morty.

"It won't work forever."

And I couldn’t stop waiting for that other shoe to drop.

After taking me out in his ship, I found myself at the Smith house constantly. With Ryan acting so docile, he barely batted an eye as I would come and go. Most of the time was spent with Beth, but when she wasn’t home I would find myself wandering into Rick’s garage, with only a polite knock to announce myself. I watched him tinker with the multitude of devices surrounding him, the two of us falling into comfortable silences most of the time. Occasionally, he would ask for my assistance in holding something steady, almost always muttering about how much better of a helper I was than Morty. I responded without fail to those comments with a gentle kick under the table, assuring him I was not the one to make those comments to.

When school let out for the summer, I assumed he would have less time, seeing as Morty would be free to go on adventures with him at his beck and call, but a week after summer break started Morty was ringing my doorbell at 7:30 in the morning, much to my ire. Madison was off at band camp for the summer and I had been up the previous night catching up on shows Ryan had deemed “annoying” previously.

“H-hey Aunt Nova,” he said sheepishly as I glared down at him from the doorway. “R-Rick wanted me to come get you. He wanted to ask you something.”

“Whatever it was couldn’t wait until a more reasonable hour?” I growled, turning my glare to Smith’s garage.

“He was really insistent on it,” Morty shrugged, cutting across the lawn to head back to his grandfather. I followed him begrudgingly, not caring that I was only wearing a pair of fabric shorts and a tank top. I fully expected to ream Rick out for waking me up and go crawl back into my bed. As I turned the corner to the garage, Rick looked up to greet me, seemingly rendered speechless before shaking his head to clear his head and applying a look of annoyance.

“N-Nova, what the fuck are you wearing?” he asked sharply, pointedly averting his gaze back down to the device he was holding in his hand.

“My pajamas Rick. I was asleep. People do that sometimes you know,” I shot back at him, in no mood for his shit this early.

“L-Look, you can’t go with us wearing shit like that, you’d get yourself killed in an instant,” he responded indignantly.

“Go-go with you? Go where?”

“D-Didn’t Morty tell you?” he groaned inwardly. “You’re going on an adventure with us,” he told me bluntly, as though it should’ve been obvious. “L-Look, Morty, go grab your Aunt some clothes from your mom’s room-”

“No, I’ll just run home and get my own clothes, Rick,” I stopped him sharply. “I don’t fit in Beth’s clothes anyway. I’ve got, uh, more going on than she does.” I watched his eyes flick down to confirm my claims and smirked when they didn’t meet mine again.

I quickly slipped back into my house, opting for the laundry room rather than my bedroom to avoid waking Ryan. Still, I left him a note on his desk letting him know I would be gone for the day. As I rested it on his day planner, I couldn’t help but feel a familiar apprehension creeping up the back of my neck, having to constantly remind myself he wouldn’t be mad anymore. I’ve done this a couple of times since Rick implanted the dampener. It would be okay; things could finally just be okay.

I pulled on a pair of yoga pants, a clean tank top, and a hoodie, resting a moment to pull on my running shoes before heading back to the garage. Rick surveyed my outfit critically, though his eyes seemed to hang around my hips. He nodded quickly in approval, wrenching the door to his ship open and climbing in. Morty and I climbed in the passenger side where I offered Morty the front seat.

“Nope, you’re in the back Morty,” Rick ordered as I started to move to the back of the ship.

“It’s okay, I can sit back here,” I told him stubbornly, plopping down on a small crate in the back.

“You can’t see anything from back there,” he insisted. “Plus, it’s not comfortable back there.”

“I’m fine Rick, I promise,” I said tiredly. “I might even take a nap while I’m back here, I’ve got plenty of space to stretch out.” I teased. He gave me an exasperated look before glaring and shrugging.

“Fine, if you wanna be a stubborn ass about it, enjoy the back ‘seat’ then,” he grumbled as he turned the engine over. Morty turned back to look at me apologetically.

“A-Aunt Nova, just sit up here. I’ve seen space a lot. I think you’ll love it,” he told me, standing up to move into the back. Rick watched his grandson, trying his hardest to look annoyed. I finally conceded, consoling myself that Rick hadn’t won, Morty had. I flopped into the seat, trying to ignore how much better my back was already feeling.

“So where are we going?” I asked, trying to mask my excitement as an annoyance.

“We’re headed over to Glip Glap System to find some seeds,” Rick filled me in as he put his ship into overdrive to prepare to break through the atmosphere.

“As opposed to say, the Flip Flop System?” I asked flatly.

“No- why would we go there? The only thing there are Preflarkans and continuous acid rain, b-b-but if you like the sound of that, we could make a pit stop,” he countered. “Are you always this cranky? Jesus, I might have to rethink taking you out with us.”

“I am when people ring my doorbell early as shit expecting me to know everything that’s going on,” I shot back, “I can go back home. My bed is a lot nicer to me than you’ve been this morning.”

“H-how exactly do you plan on doing that?” he scoffed. “Y-y-you just gonna jump off the ship and expect to plummet right back into bed?”

“Bitch I might. Try me,” I glared at him. He held my gaze for a moment, before cracking a smile, infecting me with one of my own.

“You go right ahead, genius. Don’t let me stop you,” he grinned. I blushed for a moment, remembering that Morty was watching us from the back. Watching me all but flirt with his grandfather. This was flirting, right? It had been so long since I’d done it, but given an opportunity, I couldn’t resist.

“Alright, what’s in this Glip Glap system?” I asked again.

“It’s the only place I can find these seeds,” he dug through his coat, producing a crumpled photo of what looked like starfruit, only instead of being all yellow, they were speckled with every color of the rainbow.

“They’re called Supernova Seeds,” he elaborated.

“Supernova seeds?” I giggled. “A little on the nose there don’t ya think?” When he answered with a confused look, I shook my head, still giggling. “Supernova seeds. SuperNOVA. Seeds. How are you missing this?”

“Oh, I get it, Aunt Nova, your names in the seeds,” Morty said chortling.

“Astute observations but that was just a happy coincidence,” Rick assured us. “These seeds, they’re better than Mega Seeds Morty.”

“Oh god Rick, you know, I’m still sore from the last time we went after those things, we’re not gonna have to-”

“God Morty no! T-that’s why I brought my ship. We’re just gonna land, grab the seeds, and get the hell out of there. E-easy as-as pie.”

“Every time you’ve said that things have gone horribly wrong,” Morty reminded him, distrust apparent on his face. My eyes flicked between the two of them, growing apprehensive of the entire operation.

“What am I missing here?” I asked slowly, watching both of their faces for some kind of hint.”

“N-Nothing Nova. Everything will be fine,” Rick assured me, although I wasn’t at all convinced, turning to raise an eyebrow at a frustrated looking Morty.

“L-last time we went after any kind of seeds, I ended up having to… to… to shove them up my butt to try to get them past customs,” Morty explained, flushing.

“Excuse me, what?” I asked, stunned. Rick groaned from the seat next to me.

“Well, now we know customs scans way up in your butt now Morty, that’s not an option anymore,” he reassured his grandson.

“That’s not what I was talking about?” I asked, hysteria entering into my voice.

“L-Last time, Morty fell off a cliff and I used up all my charge in my portal gun going to get something to fix his legs, so we had to go through customs and I didn’t want it to be a wasted trip so I needed him to shove them way up in his butt so they wouldn’t find them,” Rick explained with a sigh, and the casual nature of his tone left me speechless. “T-Turned out it was a wasted trip because he didn’t get them out in time and they dissolved and it turned him into a blithering mess on the floor for a couple of days.”

“What in the hell are you doing to my godson, Rick?” I exclaimed incredulously. “Couldn’t you have just… come back for them?”

“Well I mean, we already had them,” Rick shrugged.

“Oh, yeah, why not- no Rick! No more of that, ever,” I sputtered, “Jesus fucking Christ, what is wrong with you?”

“Would you like an itemized list or rather I shoot them off as I think of them?”

I fumed in the passenger seat for a while, trying to formulate a proper response, not quite sure what to even say. Staring out the window was proving to be a nice distraction as we passed by the Earth's moon and it slowly became a blip behind us.

“How long is it going to take to get there?” I asked grumpily, my exhaustion and irritation taking over my mood. Rick groaned, pulling out a device from his pocket and inspecting it. I wanted to take a peek for myself, but the symbols were completely illegible.

“Probably another couple hours, why?”

“I’m taking a nap, does this thing recline? I barely got any sleep last night,” I told him wearily. He watched as I pulled my hoodie off, seeming to be unable to tear his eyes away from me until I covered myself with the hoodie as a makeshift blanket.

“Take you into space one time and you’re all good to start taking naps the next time,” He grumbled under his breath as I searched for the release to lower the seat. He sighed before reaching behind his seat to extract a blanket. “At least use this, it’ll be more comfortable. Ship, make Nova’s seat more comfortable for sleep.”

“Making-seat-comfortable,” A robotic female voice confirmed as my seat adjusted and expanded slightly, giving me more room to stretch out on my side. I draped the blanket over my body, repurposing my hoodie blanket into a hoodie pillow. Once I was finally comfortable, I snuggled in and quickly disappeared into a dream.

*+*

A vine coated world was the backdrop for this dream, as I sat at the kitchen island of Beth’s house, sipping my coffee as though everything was totally normal. We were chatting about Beth’s garden when a pang of fear came over me.

Where was Rick? It had been days since I’d seen him. And Ryan was acting… strange.

“Beth, where’s Rick?” I asked her desperately. She looked at me confused, continuing to talk about the peonies she was planning on planting. I stood up to shake her to get her attention, when her head popped off, revealing a vine growing out through her neck. I screamed, fleeing from the house as the vine sprung to life, chasing me out of the house. I screamed for Rick, but when I went to the garage, I found only a wall where the door had once been. I beat on the newly formed concrete before sinking to the ground in defeat.

“Did you really think that he could save you from me?” A voice came from behind me. I turned to see Ryan, standing over me, vines sprouting from every appendage. “You’re mine (Y/N),” he hissed. “You’re mine and you’ll never get away from me.” His vines slowly wrapped around my ankles before yanking them out from under me, causing me to fall. I tried to brace the fall, but thorns pierced my hands, blood oozing out of the wounds. Vine-Ryan cackled at the sight as I continued to scream for Rick. He reached for my shoulders and started shaking me violently, and surely I wouldn’t survive the brain damage.

“Nova!” He yelled as he shook me. “Nova!”

Wait, did he call me Nova?

*+*

I woke up to Rick leaning over me, shaking me awake. His face was panicked and as I blinked and started looking around the room, I saw Morty looking at me as well, concern and fear contorting his face.

“Nova, are you okay? Wh-What the hell happened?” Rick was asking me urgently. I rubbed my face trying to understand what was happening around me. Rick’s hands moved down my arms, causing me to flinch away from him. My skin was on fire and his touch was only incensing it. “Hey, what the hell is going on?” He asked again, looking over my face.

“I-I think I had a nightmare, I’m sorry,” I mumbled, resting on my elbows as I tried to sit up.

“Y-yeah, I’d say.” Morty watched me cautiously. “You were screaming for-for Rick and thrashing around like you were trying to get away from something,” he told me. My cheeks flushed and I couldn’t quite bring myself to look at the man intently staring at me, eyes filled with reluctant concern.

“Wh-what the fuck kind of dream were you having?” Rick asked in a gentle tone that didn’t quite match his words.

“I don’t know. I think… I think Ryan-”

“Au-Aunt Nova, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Morty reassured you gently, resting a hand on your arm.

“It-it’s okay Morty,” I thanked him. “In the dream, Ryan was some kind of vine monster and he was…” My heart started thudding in my chest again, and I took a steadying breath, hoping I wouldn’t have to explain further. I returned my eyes to the windshield, focusing on the murky darkness beyond it, unwilling to accept the look of pity on my godson’s face. I caught Rick’s reflection out of the corner of my eye, giving me his own pitiful look before focusing on the nothingness ahead of him.

The rest of the ride was silent, none of us willing to speak to break the tension. We landed on a vibrant planet, perfectly matching the seed Rick had shown us.

“This place looks right out of a Doctor Seuss book,” Morty commented as we climbed out of the world. The air smelled of candy and… burnt rubber? I glanced at Rick curiously.

“It takes some getting used to, I guess,” he shrugged. Rick handed us fabric satchels and led us through a dense thicket before coming across what looked like a small grove of trees with… testicle shaped fruit hanging from them. I whipped my hand to my mouth, trying to stifle the inevitable giggle.

“Oh dear god, what the fuck is that?” I snickered, despite myself.

“What the fuck is what?” Morty asked from behind me as he stumbled out of the woods. When he caught sight of the fruit, he snorted loudly.

“Y-y-you guys are so immature,” Rick said, his voice betraying him with a chuckle.

“A-are these the Supernova Fruit Rick?” Morty giggled. “These better than Mega Fruit?” Rick grumbled under his breath, starting to pick the fruit. He filled his bag, handing Morty and me some of our own to carry back, earning him a fresh bout of giggles when we realized they were squishy too.

“You know Rick, these don’t exactly look like the picture you showed us,” I remarked, looking closer at the oddly squishy thing I was holding.

“That’s because these are the fruits. The seeds themselves are within the fruit.” He stopped, looking around before heading to another tree to shove more of the weird fruit into his bag. “Make sure you’re careful with them, don’t break any.” Once there was no more storage space Rick led us back through the brush, loading them in the ship before we climbed in and he took off.

“W-wow Rick, I can’t believe how painless that was,” Morty remarked as we flew through the planet's atmosphere, headed home. “Maybe Aunt Nova could be our lucky charm.”

“Well, now you’ve gone and jinxed us now Morty,” I teased, turning back to wink at him. I couldn’t help but giggle again at the sight of my godson surrounded by over thirty testicle shaped “super” seeds. Morty had picked one up, investigating it closer when the ship lurched, causing him to drop it and break the skin, a series of pores filling the air.

“What the fuck did you do Morty?!” Rick bellowed, turning quickly to assess the damage. At the sight of the busted seed, his eyes widened. “Oh fuck, goddammit. Alright everyone strap in, this is gonna get weird.”

“Weird?” I exclaimed. Rick quickly pulled out his space phone, searching for a safe place to land.

“Oh fuck there’s nowhere we can go.” Rick wasn’t looking at me but I could feel the fear radiating off of him.

“W-Why not just go back to that planet?” Morty asked trembling.

“Follow up question: What’s going to happen to us?”

“A-a-alright listen up you two. Those seeds let off a kind of truth serum. I-I wanted to procure it and sell it to the government. I wasn’t sure if it would work, it was always kind of told as a myth but- it looks like it’s not because I cannot fucking stop talking.” His voice was strained, probably due to him trying to force himself quiet.

“I watch a lot of furry porn on the internet!” Morty shouted, clamping his hands over his mouth. The poor boy looked mortified as Rick and I both stared at him.

“Dear God I did not want to hear that,” I said hollowly, relaxing back into my seat, staring out the window trying to fight down all of the truths boiling to the surface.

“We’ve basically ’Liar Liar’d’ ourselves,” Rick confirmed.

“I’ve also seen a lot of-“ Muttering my apologies, I picked up an old catalog and hit the boy upside the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

“G-good call, I did not want to hear what other porn my grandson is into,” Rick shuttered, “A little unsettling that that was the first place he went but a different day’s problem.”

“I like being spanked and-and being choked.” I blurted out, my turn to slap my hand over my mouth as Rick raised an interested eye at me.

“Oh really?” He asked deviously, “Anything else I should know about?”

“Rick, why did you leave?” I asked suddenly before I even realized what I was saying. I knew he had to answer though, and seeing as I couldn’t lie to myself right now, I knew I needed to know. It would also help divert his attention from my initial admission, and any subsequent teasing.

He was stunned for a moment, trying his hardest to fight the answer boiling below the surface. “I-I left because of Jerry, and I developed my portal gun and well… because of you,” he confessed, strangled by his own words. Tears pricked my eyes at the revelation, unable to respond. “But-But not because there was something wrong with you. Quite-quite the opposite really.” The look on his face was pained, searching mine for some kind of reaction.

“Opposite… how…?” I asked slowly.

“Nova please don’t make me say it. I’m not good with these things even if I’ve been dosed with truth serum,” he pleaded. Unable to fight the effect of the seeds, he continued, “I wanted you around, constantly. And you were Beth’s best friend. And you were so young. And I was married. There was just so much wrong with the situation that I ran away.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he rambled.

Frozen to my chair, I wasn’t sure how to react. I finally felt… validated. Everything I’d felt back then and even now felt justified. Sure it was wrong, but the warm feeling spreading through my gut made everything feel like it could be alright.

“Rick I-“

“I didn’t know you’d be her next-door fucking neighbor when I came back.” He barreled over me. “I thought I had moved on, but the moment I saw you, and the way you always looked at me with such genuine awe. And then you have this awful fucking husband.” His sadness was turning to rage as I sat and listened. “How do you let him do that shit to you, Nova?”

“I don’t know how to get out,” I squeaked. “He’d kill me. He’s assured me of it.”

“He won’t,” Rick murmured darkly. “If anything ever happens like that, you can call me. Don’t you ever forget that.” I rubbed the spot on my hand where he’d implanted the panic button reflexively. A quiet alarm rang from his sleeve and he rolled it up, looking at his arm with a grin. I paled slightly, two and two coming together in my head.

“D-does that happen every time I touch it?” I asked nervously.

He nodded with a shrug. “I kinda like it to be honest. Is it a comfort thing?”

It was my turn to nod, swallowing my embarrassment. “I can stop if it bothers you, I didn’t know-”

“Nova it’s fine. It kinda makes me… makes me feel good.” He admitted, sounding strangled again. “Goddammit, when is this shit going to wear off.”

“What’s going to happen when it does?” I asked, my voice almost microscopic.

“What do you mean?” He looked over at me, trying to mask any emotion his face could be emoting. “What do you want to happen?” Oh shit, it was my turn to be forced into the truth.

Fuck.

“I-I like spending time with you again. I like going on adventures with you. A-and Morty. I don’t want you to go back to avoiding me.” I stared down into my hands, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“I’m pretty sure I can’t do that anymore,” he confessed softly.

“Are you going to leave us again?”

“Only if you ask me to.”

I considered his words for a while, letting silence fall over us. Just when I thought my life would finally get back to a semblance of normal, Rick would drop another bomb into my life. I didn’t know how to process his confession. Was, was Rick in love with me? Was that even possible? More importantly, was I in love with Rick?

I think I was, at one time but it couldn’t be ignored that he broke my heart. Whatever was here between us, whatever fucked up, codependent feelings we had, it was almost impossible for it to exist outside of this ship, but then, would that be so bad? Could I just let go? I looked over at him, a vein in his jaw thudding from restraint. My heart flooded with emotion as I looked him over. I could feel the words forcing their way up through my throat before I spoke.

“What do you want to happen once this ship makes it back to your garage?” I asked shakily.

“I-I…” It seemed his composure was winning out as he fought the compulsion. It was wearing off, filling me with relief and regret. He stole a glance over at me, meeting my gaze and sighing. “I want you, Nova,” he conceded. “I can’t help it. There are infinite universes but when I look at you, you fill me with some weird kind of peace, like maybe everything’s not so bad. Like it’s not completely pointless.”

I held his gaze, my mouth opening slightly. I started moving closer to him, wanting more than anything to kiss him, to assure him that I felt something even remotely similar when I heard Morty starting to stir. Rick saw my intent though, as I quickly returned to my seat, opting to return to the window again.

“H-hey Morty, how are you feeling?” Rick changed the subject, pulling out his flask, taking a long swig from it.

“Au-Aunt Nova, why’d you hit me?” Morty asked, rubbing the part of his head that the catalog landed.

“I really didn’t think you wanted to continue revealing your internet history. I did you a favor, kiddo.” I assured him, not turning to look at him.

“She did us all a favor,” Rick grumbled. Gone was his soft tone, replaced by his usual hardened approach to the world.

“Y-Y-Y-Yea, that’s probably for the best,” Morty said sheepishly.

Rick checked his watch. “So it looks like that shit lasts for about an hour. That’s good to know.” Taking another swig, he sunk back into his seat, ignoring Morty’s cautious observance from the back.

“Wh-what did you guys talk about?” He asked nervously.

“Y-Y-You’re Aunt Nova is apparently really into getting spanked and some other tidbits I’ll keep to myself,” Rick smirked. I blushed, pointedly keeping my gaze averted from either of them.

“Aw, jeez Rick, I really didn’t need to know that,” he said awkwardly.

“And I needed to know about your furry fetish?” I shot back at him, finally looking back at him to offer a playful smile.

“I-it’s not a fetish!” he defended. “The-the art style is just really fascinating.”

“Yeah, the serum is definitely worn off by now,” Rick groaned. “Thank god we’re almost back to Earth.”

*+*

When we landed and my phone was finally in range of phone towers, it blared with constant text notifications and new voicemails. Rick and Morty climbed out of the ship as I hastily pulled it out. They were all from the same person.

Ryan.

“You okay Nova?” Rick asked softly, pulling my door open. I started scrolling through the messages, my eyes flicking up to the time. It was 12:30 at night. I had been gone all day. And he had to be pissed. I lifted the phone to show Rick, letting him scroll through the messages. Morty disappeared into the house with a parting wave. A look of disgust formed on Rick’s face as he read through the messages, flipping over to the voicemails.

“(Y/N), where are you? I’ve been texting and calling all day, I’m so worried,” one said

“If I did something, I’m so sorry, please just come home,” he pleaded in another.

“This is pathetic,” Rick scoffed, handing my phone back to me. “Better than the alternative though I suppose.”

I relaxed back into the seat, letting out a long breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in and tears of relief rolled down my cheeks. Rick extended a hand out to me to help me out of the ship, and despite my better judgment, I pushed myself into his embrace. He was taken aback at first but reluctantly wrapped his long arms around me. I breathed in deeply, smelling the alcohol on his breath and the lingering burning smell from the supernova planet that seemed to have seeped into his clothes. The smell burned my nose, but the comfort of having him so close won out. I pulled away from him when he shifted his weight, nervously looking up at him as I did.

“S-sorry,” I murmured, the cool breeze blowing through the garage sending a chill down my spine. The absence of his warmth was glaring, and as he watched me, I swore a sad look formed on a face before he could mask it.

“D-Don’t be.” He was surprisingly quiet, looking anywhere but at me as he scratched the back of his neck. “I guess I’ll see you around, kid.”

“Yea, I’ll see you.” Every muscle in my body revolted as I turned to walk away, heading back to my house. I turned as I cut the corner to see him slumped into the chair at his workbench, taking another swig from his flask.

The light in the front room was open and when I entered, Ryan passed out on the couch having fallen asleep to late-night infomercials. He woke up as I quietly close the door behind me. I was prepared for a fight, but when he realized it was me coming in the door he quickly stood, wrapping his arms around me as Rick had. This time, however, my body tensed and I gently patted his back. He pulled away to look at me, worry in his eyes as he surveyed my face, looking for any damage.

“Where were you (Y/N)?” He asked desperately. The concern in his face seemed to be genuine, but I still couldn’t bring myself to trust him.

“Rick and Morty took me on one of their adventures,” I admitted hesitantly. “I left a note on your desk.”

“I haven’t been in there all day.” Realization dawned on his face and he looked relieved. “You look exhausted darling, we should head to bed.”

I showered, washing the smell of our adventures away and I couldn’t help but feel heartbroken at its absence. I crawled into bed, Ryan wrapping his arms around me. It was a new feature of his personality, courtesy of the dampener. He was so affectionate now and I honestly longed for the times when he was more hands-off. I closed my eyes tightly, breathing deeply as I tried to think of them being Rick’s, which was significantly more comforting. Thoughts of the lanky scientist followed me into my dreams, and when I awoke the following morning, after reluctantly kissing my husband on the cheek goodbye, I made a beeline over to his garage. Instead of Rick, however, I found Morty cleaning what looked to be vomit off of the floor.

“Hey kiddo, what happened?” He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of my voice.

“Rick drank until he blacked out it looks like,” he told me, scooping the last of the vomit into a trash can.

“Do you want me to grab a mop? Try to get the rest of it up?” I offered, looking around.

“Don’t worry about it, Aunt Nova. Rick’s not worth the extra effort,” he assured me bitterly.

“Don’t say that Morty,” I said softly. “Your grandpa cares about you, he’s just not very good at showing it.”

“Y-y-you got that right.” He kicked the base of the workbench in frustration. An alarm started blaring at the contact, startling both of us.

“The-the fuck are you doing messing with my shit,” a drunk Rick slurred over a wall-mounted speaker. “Get out of here, J-Jerry.”

“Morty, what the fuck?” A voice came from behind me. I turned to see a hungover Rick glaring at the two of us from the doorway. “Oh, hey Nova, the fuck do you want?”

“I was just- I don’t even know. I’ll just go,” I flushed. I quickly headed out of the garage as Morty berated his grandfather.

“Au-Aunt Nova wait!” he called after me. I paused my escape to turn to Morty. “P-Please don’t go. Rick’s just being an ass.”

“No, it’s fine. I have laundry to do. I’ll catch you guys later,” I lied.

“N-Nova, wait,” Rick called after me. “Just, hang out for a while. Beth’s making breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” I shot at him coldly. I don’t know what I was expecting coming over here, Rick wasn’t going to suddenly be some open book because of some truth serum soul-bearing.

“Y-You’re not?” he said angrily. “Look, either stay or don’t, I really don’t care.”

“Please, Aunt Nova?” Morty pleaded. I conceded again to Morty, even though it was technically letting Rick win.

I followed the two into the kitchen, greeting Beth with a warm hug. She was overjoyed to have me join them for breakfast. I took up my usual place at the table next to her and I let myself fall into a comfortable conversation with her and Summer about plans for the summer. Still, I couldn’t stop my eyes from finding their way to Rick. He looked disgruntled as ever, mostly at Jerry talking his ear off about some transgression Rick could give two shits less about. I helped Beth and Morty clear the table, Jerry heading to his study and Summer to her bedroom. Rick stayed at the table, tinkering with some gadget. I sat next to him, watching him while Morty helped his mother with the dishes.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Rick said, not looking up from his tinkering. “I got pretty drunk after you left last night.”

“Yeah, I saw the leftovers in the garage,” I grimaced. Yelling erupted from the kitchen, Beth and Jerry shouting over something. Morty emerged from the kitchen, plastering on a smile as he sat down next to us.

“Dad still hasn’t gotten a new job,” he explained. My eyes darted sadly to my friend, wishing I knew some way to help.

“C-Come on Morty, I need your help in the garage,” Rick sighed, tucking his gadget in his lab coat before stalking off to the garage. “Nova, you coming?”

I was almost embarrassed about how quickly I hopped out of my chair to follow him until I saw the small smile on his face.

Jesus christ, what is happening to me?

+Ch4: Pornostartrek+

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez/reader

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