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potter-imagines · 3 years

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Meadow (George Weasley x Reader)

Prompt: Hi, maybe fred or george (you can choose) and the reader are spending the afternoon in a flower meadow together? (sorry for my english, it's not my first language)🙈😊

Notes: okay I'm sure spring break isn't a thing at hogwarts but for this write, it is . hope you enjoy !!

Warnings: none, just a lot of fluff cause everyone loves george

Word Count: 3.5k

Spring break was winding down to a close as early April broke through. New life was brought to fruition as the snow from the harsh winter evaporated into the ground. Outside the grounds of the Weasley’s home were fields and fields of open land. Flowers sprouted in every step creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Those tumbling plains seemed to extend for miles beyond the horizon. Just beyond those grassy hills and slopes was a large, secluded meadow.

It was the early hours of a Saturday morning when a pair invaded the area far before the sun began to rise. The meadow Y/n and George had been occupying seemed to be the perfect location to view the birth of the new season. The perfect spot to enjoy each other’s company. Soon they would be ushered back to Kings Cross and board the Hogwarts Express- George for his last time and Y/n, well it certainly wouldn’t be her last time, no matter how hard she dreamed it was. The topic of George leaving Hogwarts was one the couple tip-toed around. Break was only two weeks but that meant two extra weeks for the pair to be together. With the school year tumbling to an end, George would be leaving school soon with his brother to start his dream and Y/n would be stuck needing to finish her last year at Hogwarts alone. The girl was a year below her boyfriend and although it never caused any friction for the pair, the gap was finally giving them issues.

In George’s mind, arriving to his last school year was both an accomplishment, and a burden. As excited as he was to finally leave those stone walls that held him back, the last thing he wanted was to leave her behind. It didn’t make any of the pain easier knowing that he’d be leaving alongside Fred earlier than the rest of their classmates. Y/n had been the only other living soul Fred and George had filled in on their grand exit plan. They needed someone to keep guard and be a lookout so who better than the one person they trusted not to run their mouth.

There was a heavy smell of earth in the air, mixed with the faint odor of new growth. The vivid green leaves and the cheerful colors of the blossoms are a feast. Flowers popped up from the soiled ground and the fruit hanging from the trees were starting to come to life.

The couple had spent a good portion of their break at the secluded meadow. In a way, it became their little secret spot. Not that it was a secret location by any means. Fred and George had discovered the meadow a few years back when they had ventured miles away from the burrow. The boys were always adventurous, especially when Molly and Arthur finally allowed them free range outside the family home when they were eleven. There were miles and miles of tall grass and woodland that made it easy to get lost. Of course with Fred and George, losing their way was never a worry. When the boys stumbled upon the breathtaking meadow, George seemed to be the only one interested in their find. Fred had wandered off into the section of forest they entered through, his attention captured by a group of baby deer camouflage in the woods. For years George would wander back to the meadow on his own when he needed a break from the loudness of his siblings or grew tired of Ron trailing on his coattails every turn. He promised himself he would keep the spot to himself, let it be his own private sanctuary. This plan ran smooth for a few years before George made the exception to break the rule for one person only.

But for now, the two could only take advantage of the time they had together and they didn’t intend to spend a second apart. It looked as if Y/n and George had stepped straight into a storybook. The grass was Eden-green and thigh-high to a thrush. A neon-blue ribbon of river ran through the ground in a squiggle line. A party of bright yellow ducklings scattered in the calm water, small quacks filling the air. Chirping and sweet songs from the birds made that feeling of Spring become a reality. Buzzing bumble bees and wildflowers sprung along the land. The sounds of nature engulfed the girl whole as she melted into the soft grass.

“I could stay here for the rest of my life- away from people, away from the world. It’s peaceful.” Y/n hummed softly. Her large doe eyes observed the clouds that formed a perfect line-up in the baby blue sky, as if they were boats safely moored in celestial harbour. Peeks of sunlight seeped in through the cracks in the fluffy clouds casting a shimmering light as they danced slowly by in the sky. Just a moment before she was listing off all the animals and objects she saw in the sky. Now she was considering the thought of staring at them forever.

George stole a quick glance down where she laid in his lap. Strands of her h/c hair flowing across his legs and hands. It tickled against his skin as a light breeze swept past. Her abrupt words had caught him off guard. He had missed the sound of her voice for the last hour, although adored the trance-like state of happiness that she was in so he was constantly biting his tongue to keep his thoughts from pouring out. Now that she was somewhat back to earth, he was eager to chat. Tilting his head in her direction George raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah?” He questioned.

A smile graced her lips as she nodded in confirmation. The land was beautiful, unlike anything she had seen. There certainly weren’t any meadows with such serenity as this in the city of London. For once in her life she could hear the sound of her heart beating in the quietness of the open land and she loved it. No cars honking, no crabby cityfolk shoving their way through crowds, no taxi drivers screaming at pedestrians to move, no bright lights, just nature and all of its creations.

Extending her arm, Y/n pointed out to the land. George followed her direction to see she was gesturing to a small section of the meadow that was surrounded by an eyecatching army of poppies and bellflowers. A large willow tree stood towering over the side. In the middle was a bare section- large enough for a home to fit. Y/n grinned in excitement as she suddenly sat up straight.

“Yeah. Build a little cottage, start a garden, maybe even a family… I think it would be lovely.” She said dreamily. Her eyes looked up to George in wonder, silently asking him to share his opinion. Mirroring her previous actions, George scanned the meadow. He placed his hand against his chin, pretending to think long and hard about her idea. Y/n giggled besides him and shoved him lightly on the shoulder. He chuckled in response and leaned back into the log supporting him. George nodded in agreement to the pondering dream.

There was a casual grace to the meadow, as if it has a peripheral awareness of its own beauty yet would rather be at peace in this warm sun. It was quaint and humble yet glowing in - like a glorious mansion hidden away in a forest. A hidden gem that was to be kept away from the rest of society. Their own little happy place that opened and bloomed just for them. There was something so magical about the meadow that George couldn’t pass it up. It felt like fate leading him there- leading them.

“Think we could make that work. The family part is a definante- it’s just building a home that’ll take a bit of time. We could get started on making a family of our own right now-” George was cut off when a hand clamped over his mouth. Although he was only joking, he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.

“George-” She warned playfully.

“Or in a few years. But living out here would be nice. ‘S not like I got to worry about commuting for work. It’d be a nice escape from the shop once we get business running, and once you graduate. Not to mention moving out here would mean I’d get to see more of you in that pretty dress. Flowers in your hair... you look so enchanting, darling.” A bashfulness struck Y/n to her core at his words. Her eyes instinctively shot down to the grass as a paint of red rose to her face. George’s heart quite literally stuttered at her reaction. Making her blush, seeing her smile because of something he said never failed to bring a sense of happiness to George. That damn smile, he thought to himself. He was sure she could convince him of anything when that innocent look took over. It was natural for her. Y/n was simply ethereal in every way.

His hand brushed as gently as a feather across the skin of her cheek. Pushing the daisy back in place behind her ear, George drew his hand down from her ear to her neck. Gripping her softly George pulled her towards his body, lessening the space between the pair. Dipping his head he leaned in towards the girl until their lips were only inches apart. He smirked teasingly, ready to make a remark when Y/n took matters into her own hands.

Linking her hand around his chin she pulled his face in hers with a deep kiss. Although she initiated the gesture, it was George’s response that made her lose all sense of control. His large hands moved from her face to her waist in an instant. Much to Y/n’s surprise he lifted her without warning, still holding her lips in his, and placed her in his lap so she was facing him. Her hands instinctively switched to wrap around his neck for stability. Fingers gripped at his short ginger locks as she adjusted her hips into his.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as her entire body got weaker. She could only focus on how soft he felt against her mouth, how addictively he invaded all her senses. Everytime their lips met a rush of adrenaline and love ran through her veins. The muscles in her body went limp at his touch, jelly like. George held a tight lock around her waist keeping her steady against him. He slipped his tongue against her mouth, visibly shuddering when she slid her tongue against his in return. Tension was pooling by the second as the kiss intensified. Y/n’s strawberry dress cascaded down the side of legs as she repositioned in his lap earning a groan from George. Hot breath fanned against her face briefly at her movements. His hand darted from the small of her back to the exposed skin on her upper thigh, pushing her further into his body. The vibration of his voice against her lips and the tight grip of his hands on her thighs sent shivers down her spine. His kiss was sweet, like a long awaited embrace. Stars blurred her vision as George gripped her against his chest. The moment was quickly turning into a not so innocent kiss causing Y/n to slowly detach her lips from his. As she pulled away she remained sat in his lap, fingers brushing along the skin of his face as she admired his beauty. A smug smile was displayed on his face while he repositioned his hands behind his body to hold the pair up. Still holding his face in her palms, Y/n pressed forward to scatter a line of kisses on his cheeks. He chuckled in amusement before her kiss latched to his mouth once more. Between short and passionate pecks she fought for words to tell him how much he meant to her. She wanted to tell him all the emotions of love and desire he brought onto her. Tell him how she could never live with another- how he was the only one she wanted for the rest of her life.

“You’re too good to me, George.” She whispered against his lips. The lack of space between them was intoxicating. Heat emanated from George’s cheeks as he desperately attempted to regain his breath and compose himself. His chest was light with air caused by the sweetness of the girl before him. A small smear of glitter lip gloss covered his bottom lip in a shine.

George tasted a hint of bubble gum as his tongue swept along the skin of his bottom lip.

“I’d give you the whole world if I could but I’m afraid I don’t have the coins for that yet, princess.” Pressing his forehead against hers, George hummed the words. Y/n shook her head with a smile as she countered his grand proposition with one of her own.

“All I need is a quaint, cozy cottage out here and you… well a dog or a kitten would be nice too.” She laughed.

George could only stare at her in that moment. Her words registered although the naturalness to her beauty was too much for him to process. The sun hit her back in with such purpose it was as if she were an angel breaking through the sky. Her strawberry midi dress flowed down her sides and pooled in between his legs. Pretty pink satin clung to her form. The sparkling red strawberries fitted her perfectly. The ruffles on her shoulders gave her the look of a cottage princess, a fairy even. Hair flowing freely in the wind, it was a sight he’d never grow tired of seeing. He’d never seen someone as breathtaking as her.

Taking advantage of his silence, Y/n looked up to George in seriousness. His large brown eyes stared lovingly back to her. Gesturing to the meadow surrounding them, Y/n asked him,

“Do you think you’d be happy out here?”

George tore his stare from the girl to scope out the land once more. All the years he spent wandering down here alone in his mind and looking for some sort of answer to life, now he had found it. He could already picture where he would build a playset for the children and where he’d be able to make a small Quidditch pitch to teach your future kids. Ideas were forming for the house and how many rooms you’d both want. George was thinking somewhere around eight- extra room for more kids. Mapped out where the house would go, where he’d build a garden for you, figured out what tree would be perfect for him to put together a treehouse with Fred for the kids, and where the path would go towards the lake. The layout was quickly forming and he wanted in.

Y/n watched in curiosity as the thoughts swarmed through her lover’s head. She could see him intently thinking things over, then smiling before tilting his face back down at the girl. His head moved down so his lips could press against the skin of her forehead as he kissed her.

“Darling, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be more than happy.” He reassured her.

Y/n melted into the warmth provided by his lips. Her body leaned into his, desperate for more of him. George wrapped his arm around her shoulder tightly and fixed his body so he was sitting tall. She clung to his frame like a koala to a tree, burying her face into the material of his hoodie.

“Once I graduate?” Her muffled voice vibrated against his sternum. George ran his fingers up and down her spine as he held her tight.

“Once you graduate.” George repeated sincerely. Although they’d gone over the conversation a million different times, Y/n couldn’t help the shadow of doubts that crept into her mind. She trusted George with all her heart- every inch of her being but they’d be living in two separate worlds for a year and she worried that was something he might not want. Maybe he would realize he wanted to be with a girl his age, or someone older, someone not stuck at Hogwarts. Even without reason for worry, it still came.

Remaining in his hold yet moving back slightly, Y/n’s eyes darted to the flower covered ground. Her fingers ran along the petals absentmindedly as she worked to find the courage to speak. Her shift in emotions did not go unnoticed by the boy. George focused on the look of contemplation adorning her. As adorable as she looked, he hated seeing her in the slightest bit of distress. This went for any situation whether Y/n was stressed about a class, feeling ill, or just sad because she’s hungry, George does everything in his control to fix it for her.

“You’ll wait for me?” The sudden question took George aback. Her tone was a mix of innocence and fear. His confusion arose for the grave manner of her inquiry. Even if her worries were astonishingly unworldly to George, he knew better than to shut down her insecurities brashly. If the topic at hand weren’t so significant to their relationship, he might even crack a joke. However the seriousness in her features was not to be ignored.

George reached out to interlock his fingers through her warm hands. That comforting smile of his graced his face as he brought her knuckles up to his lips and placed a trial of kisses along the bones.

“Of course I’ll wait, love. No other girl I’d want to spend the rest of my life with- no other girl I want to call my wife, the mother of my children. No one but you, my love.” George insisted. It seemed magical to Y/n the way he always knew exactly what to say. Always so heartfelt and honest in meaning. He never told her a lie to make her happy but somehow managed to piece together a perfect string of words to make her whole again. Something in the way he spoke, in his words, it made her believe nearly anything was plausible. Most of all, she trusted him and believed that he had every intention of sticking around, which brought a sneaking grin to Y/n’s face. All those worries washed away at his words. It was a part she loved deeply about him.

The feeling of George’s touch smoothing over the bottom of her pink dress pulled Y/n back to the meadow. The scent of lavender and vanilla wafted past his nose from the perfume he had gifted her for Christmas. His fingers would skim against her bare leg in a teasing fashion as he smirked. Y/n let out a giggle at the tickling sensation of his touch. Her arms wrapped around his neck for support while her bashful grin never ceased.

“There’s that pretty smile.” George remarked with a chuckle. A sense of victory took hold of him at seeing her worries vanish. Arms locked around his neck, Y/n pulled him towards her as her head fell to his chest. Given their limited time, all the couple wanted to do for the next month was be in each other’s arms. George cherished every opportunity he got to hold her, knowing he’d spend the next year missing her everyday. It came in the little things as well like the way her hair always smelled like a basket of delicious fruits, or how she’d hum to herself while they were studying together. He already knew he’d spend most days babbling on to Fred about how much he missed Y/n. Break was almost over which meant the twins would be leaving Hogwarts for good within a few weeks. Y/n dreaded the idea of not seeing George every day, not getting to kiss him or hug him. George hated thinking about having to hear from her through letters and not getting to hear that sweet laughter every day. So for now, all George wanted was to hold his girl and enjoy the excitement for their future he felt budding inside of him.

The colors in the sky were starting to grow brighter by the minute and without saying it, the pair both knew they’d be needing to head back to The Burrow for lunch sooner then they’d care to admit. In the serenity of the meadows the couple found a sense of home. Y/n soaked in their last bits of time in the meadow before George mentioned them heading back. Although neither moved at his words but instead remained holding onto one another.

“I love you, George.”

“I love you more, princess.”

207 notes · View notes

kirayaykimura · 3 years

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a sailor moon au

Sometimes Obi blacked out. Large swaths of the night completely missing. When he would jokingly mention this to strangers in bars to crowdsource if this was normal or Something To Be Worried About, he inevitably got the same three responses: me too, dude, that’s called sleeping; was it tequila, because same; and oh my god, please see a doctor.

That last suggestion was right out. Obi didn’t exactly have health insurance at the moment. Insurance was really fucking expensive when you weren’t a student and worked odd jobs under the table (but if the IRS asked, he was an absolutely legit freelancer). Getting too drunk would have been a possibility if he ever allowed himself more than one drink and never drank alone.

The most probable answer was that he was sleepwalking, but it still didn’t feel right. He was pretty sure sleepwalkers didn’t wake up with cuts and bruises and a deep ache in their muscles like they’d just run for miles. And also gotten into a bar fight.

He stretched some of the soreness away as he waited for his large, too-expensive coffee at some hipster cafe downtown. He noticed a girl sitting in front of her laptop staring at him at one of the nearby tables and shot her a wink as he lowered his arms. He grinned when she blushed furiously and began typing what he could only assume was nonsense, judging by the speed and ferocity of her fingers on the keyboard.

The delight he’d felt at making a cute stranger blush faded as he grabbed his coffee from the bar and slipped out into the chilly November morning. A light drizzle settled on his hair and shoulders like a fine dew, and Obi regretted every decision that had led to this moment. He should have stayed in bed.

Okay, for real this time. He was getting out of this line of work. He’d lie his way into some cushy office job where he wouldn’t have to risk getting pneumonia to intimidate perfectly innocent strangers. He’d been planning this for a while now, and his resolve only grew when he started having his blackouts. If he was dying, he wanted to go out proving he could be better than all the shady shit he’d been doing since he was old enough to do it.

But for now: one last job for one last client. It was simple enough. Wistaria, Seiran, and Bergatt wanted to expand their law offices. They’d managed to buy up an entire city block except for one small holdout. He was supposed to go in, spook the owner a little about it being a dangerous part of town, come back at night to break a few windows, and then break a few more until they decided to pack up shop. It wasn’t very nice, but it was far from the worst thing he’d ever done.

A small bell tinkled overhead as he let himself into the Happy Daisy Here Again. His eyes scanned the empty store. Well, empty when it came to people. The place was practically overflowing with plants.

“I’m sorry,” a woman’s voice came from the back. “We’re not open yet.”

Said woman, presumably, poked her head out of a door behind the counter a moment later. Her long hair was vibrantly red against all the green in the room. Obi gave her his most charming smile and said, “No, I’m sorry to barge in like this. You see, it’s raining out and I was hoping to take shelter. Just for a little bit.” He ran a hand through his hair to knock off some droplets for extra effect.

It seemed to work. She immediately softened and said, “Of course. Come on in.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

“Shirayuki,” she corrected, leaving the back room to take up residence behind the counter.

“Miss Shirayuki, then.”

He made his way over to the absurdly large plant in the corner of the room that had fascinated him since he’d entered the store.

“What on earth is this?” he asked, lightly running a finger along one of the leaves. Fronds?

“That is a large fiddle-leaf fig tree.” Shirayuki’s smile was evident even though he wasn’t looking at her. She was proud of this plant. He made a mental note to avoid it when he ransacked the place later.

“That’s quite a mouthful,” he said. “Have you ever thought of giving it a nickname?”

“Like what?”

“Well.” He eyed the plant. “It’s huge. How about Big Fig. Fat Fig gives you the alliteration, though.”

“If you’re going to nickname my plants, I’d rather you didn’t give them body image issues.”

Obi grinned over at her, delighted. Very few people in the world were willing to play along with him.

“You should think of something nicer,” she said.

“Nicer, huh? What would be nice to you?”

She tilted her head, studying the fig tree for a moment, then said, “Fred.” Raising her eyes to meet his, she said, “I liked your alliteration idea.”

Oh no. He was in trouble.

Obi cleared his throat, told himself to focus on the plan, and asked, “So what made you open up a shop here? It’s not exactly a great part of town, you know.”

“I think I’ll be okay,” she said. Her voice was laced with humor he didn’t understand. It kind of felt like she was laughing at him. That was certainly not the reaction he was expecting, but he supposed he shouldn’t have been too surprised. If she was easily spooked or intimidated, Haruka wouldn’t have had to resort to hiring him.

“Still,” he pushed on, “you should be careful. There have been a lot of wild attacks around the city recently.”

“Yeah.” All traces of amusement were gone. In its place were confusion and concern and just a hint of sadness. Her gaze drifted to the street outside, clearly lost in thought.

He should leave it. It wasn’t his job to get involved. Kind of the opposite, in fact. Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “Are you alright, Miss Shirayuki?”

“Oh.” She blinked at him like she’d just remembered he was there. She shot him a half-hearted smile. “Yes. I’m fine. Sorry about that.”

“That’s alright,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder out the window where the sun was just starting to peek out from behind the clouds. Guess his excuse for being there was drying up with the rain. Well, he’d done what he’d come in to do. Best to get out now before she had more time to commit his face to memory.

“Looks like I should get going,” he said, making his way back to the front door. “Thanks again for lending me a place to dry off.”

“Any time,” she said warmly. “I mean it. Come back. I’ll give you a good discount on…” she trailed off and eyed him speculatively. “A spider plant.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, half-way outside already. “Why’s that?”

“Some people believe they bring good luck. Getting caught in the rain makes me think you could use a little luck.”

Despite the newly emerged sun, the air outside Shirayuki’s shop had never felt more bitter.

***

Sometimes Tuxedo Mask blacked out. Large swaths of the night completely missing. One minute he’d be fighting alongside Sailor Moon and the other guardians in one area of the city, the next minute he’d be in a completely different part of the city with only a gut feeling telling him it was a completely different day, too.

The crowbar was new, though.

The ridges of the crowbar dug into his palm as he held it tight. He’d been afraid to let it go during his transformation. What if he’d let it fly when he’d flung out a dramatic arm to give his magical suit room to wrap around his upper body? Someone could have gotten hurt, or it could have crashed through the wrong storefront.

Wait. Back up. There was a wrong storefront? And he transformed?

He’d become very accustomed to feeling like the answer to something huge was on the tip of his tongue, but it never got any less frustrating. His life right now was kind of one big question mark. He remembered nothing before a year ago. Hell, the only reason he knew he was called Tuxedo Mask and that he was in his late 20’s was because of a wanted poster he’d seen plastered on a billboard he’d passed on the way to help the guardians out one night. (Apparently he was also 6’1” and considered armed and dangerous. He wasn’t going to lie, that info did add a bit of a swagger to his entrance that night. The effect had been ruined by getting his ass handed to him by Kazuki, but he was choosing not to focus on that part.)

The only thing he knew about his life was that he needed to find the Moon Princess. The very first memory he could recall having was of a woman’s voice echoing through his mind saying, “Find her!” He could hear it so clearly it was as if she’d said it in his ear and then disappeared between one breath and the next.

The rest of it was innate. Just as he knew how to breathe without thinking about it, he also knew how to leap much higher and farther than any normal human should be able to, how to throw roses with so much force they could wedge themselves into concrete, and that the her the woman had told him to find was the Moon Princess.

What he would do when he found her, he didn’t know. He hoped she would be able to fill in the (many, considerable) gaps in his memory, but mostly he just had this bone-deep sense that everything would be okay once she appeared.

A scream echoed through the empty streets, distracting him from his thoughts. The scream was followed by a voice he knew very well. She’d been his tentative ally more nights than not and a real pain of a rival for the rainbow crystals.

“Hey!” he heard Sailor Moon shout. “Kidnapping a young woman in love for your own personal harem is unforgivable.”

“Not to mention gross,” Sailor Mercury said. Her quiet, deadpan delivery floated to him from around the corner to his right. He took off in a light jog to join the fray, happy he didn’t have to run half-way across the city tonight.

Sure enough, he found Sailor Moon and Sailor Mercury standing in the middle of the street. They were, as always, very easy to spot. Well, Sailor Moon was. The vibrant red hair beneath her bright gold tiara stood out against the crisp white of her leotard. Sailor Mercury’s blonde bob was pretty common in comparison, but she had something of a sheen to her. It was the same with all the guardians, really. His eyes were drawn to them. Something about the air around them was just brighter somehow.

They hadn’t noticed him round the corner, but that was fine. They should stay focused on the man in front of them. He was someone Tuxedo Mask had never seen before. It looked like The Claw had sent in a new henchman to pick up where Mihaya had left off. This new guy marked the fourth person The Claw had sent after the Rainbow Crystals. It appeared there was a never-ending legion of people ready and willing to die for their cause. You know, whatever it was. All the lackeys sort of had their own things going on. It was kind of confusing to keep up with. And also he didn’t care about any of them.

The new guy supported a young woman leaning so heavily against him that she couldn’t be anything but unconscious. Unfortunate for her, of course, but probably for the best in the grand scheme of things. People tended to freak out when the monsters arrived.

“Ah, but who will take her place?” Backup Lackey asked loftily. “Once I collect her Rainbow Crystal, I’m not opposed to letting her go. If you took her place, Sailor Moon.”

“Gross,” Sailor Mercury repeated at the same time another voice asked, “Who are you?”

Tuxedo Mask turned to see Sailor Mars jog down the street towards them, his red skirt flapping high against his hairy thighs. (The first time he’d transformed into Sailor Mars, he’d asked, “Why am I in a skirt? And heels?” The other girls looked down at their own skirts in different colors. Sailor Moon shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I guess it’s just the uniform. Sorry about that.” Sailor Mercury had patted him firmly on the shoulder and said, “Looks good on you, though.”)

Mars nodded at Tuxedo Mask before stopping by Mercury’s side. He asked, “Seriously, who is this guy? He new?”

“Looks like it,” Mercury said.

“I am Raj Shenazard, Prince of Evil! And downtown Cleveland.”

“Raji-who now?” Mars asked.

“Raj Shenazard, Prince of Evil!” Raj snapped. “You will remember my name as the man who collected all the crystals out from under your noses.”

He placed a hand over the young woman’s shoulder and a faint glow arose between his hand and her skin. Tuxedo Mask watched as he slowly drew an orange crystal out of the woman. Watched Raj’s fingers close around the crystal. Stood by while Raj dropped the woman and extended a hand to Sailor Moon.

“Come, Sailor Moon. We will-”

Raj never got the chance to finish his thought because Tuxedo Mask chucked the crowbar he was still holding at Raj’s head.

“Ow!” Raj yelped, sounding more offended than pained. “That hurt.”

“Sorry.” Tuxedo Mask smiled innocently. “It slipped.”

“Tuxedo Mask!” Sailor Moon whipped around, clearly surprised but happy to see him. “You’re here!”

How unfair that the cute girl who made him feel welcome and wanted was also sort of his enemy. They were both after the Rainbow Crystals, after all.

Trampling over his confused feelings, Raj said, “You’ll pay for that, you brute.”

Sure he would.

Raj snapped his fingers twice and a man materialized beside him. He pointed at Tuxedo Mask and said, “Sakaki. Kill that man.”

“Certainly, sir,” Sakaki said.

A man? That was who was supposed to take on Tuxedo Mask? He knew the Great Prince of People who Couldn’t Dodge a Crowbar was new, but a normal dude was going to be a little too easy to handle. But then Sakaki unzipped the skin on his face to reveal a frankly upsetting mass of tentacles and teeth and Tuxedo Mask was forced to admit he might have been wrong.

“You should zip that back up, buddy,” Tuxedo Mask said as he reached for a rose in his breast pocket. He was ready to throw as many as it took to keep whatever the hell that thing was as far away from him as he could.

Sailor Moon stepped forward before he could finish aiming, arms flung out wide, and said, “No! Don’t hurt him.”

Everyone froze. Tuxedo Mask had a rose held high, poised to strike. Sakaki was one step into a sprint at Tuxedo Mask. Sailor Mercury and Sailor Mars were halfway into their poses to summon whatever magic they had at their disposal. He didn’t know about anyone else, but he wasn’t exactly positive who she was protecting. Sailor Moon tended to go rogue when it came to enemies. Something about seeing the good in people.

But, no. Her back was to him. She was probably telling Raj and Sakaki to spare him and the other guardians.

“If I go with you, will you let them all go free?” Sailor Moon asked. She took a few steps towards Raj to prove she meant to go with him.

“Of course, my dear,” Raj said, sounding deeply insincere. “Whatever you want.”

The guardians and Tuxedo Mask immediately protested, all shouting a variation of, “This is a terrible plan,” at her, but she simply turned to smile back at them.

“It’s cool, guys,” she said. “I’ve got it all under cont-”

Raj closed the gap between them and yanked her back against him by her hair. So, yeah. He needed to die immediately.

Tuxedo Mask threw a rose at Raj that Sakaki deflected by, unfortunately, clamping down on it with his teeth-enticles. It kind of put a damper on his plan of hurling sharp flowers at the thing’s gaping maw until it bled out internally.

Sailor Mercury and Sailor Mars exchanged a brief glance before they set their sights on Sakaki and Raj. Mercury pelted Sakaki with water that froze his feet to the road below. With that threat neutralized for the moment, he could finally toss a rose at Raj. Except he found he didn’t have a clear shot. Raj was keeping Sailor Moon in front of him as a shield with a hand in her hair. All Tuxedo Mask could see clearly was his forehead and a little bit of shoulder. There was too much of a possibility of Sailor Moon by accident. He was torn between frustration and fascination. How had the man made himself small enough to fit behind such a tiny girl?

Sailor Mars seemed to come to the same conclusion. He let the fireball at the tips of his fingers die out with a soft pop.

“You have such beautiful and useful hair, Sailor Moon,” Raj crooned. “You will make a lovely concubine.”

“Well, if you like it so much, you can have it.” She took her tiara off her forehead, turned it into a disc, and sliced through her hair just above where Raj was holding it. She dove out of the way as the guardians and Tuxedo Mask all turned on Raj at once, suddenly clear to throw everything they had at him.

“That’s not good,” Raj said a second before he and Sakaki disappeared with two snaps. In his wake was a damp, smoking crater with a rose directly in the center of it. They must have missed him by milliseconds.

“Sailor Moon, are you alright?” Sailor Mercury asked as Sailor Mars walked over to help her stand.

“I’m fine.” She shot the guardians a sunny smile and brushed off the dirt and pebbles that had stuck to her skin when she dove to the ground. “Thank you.”

Well, that was that. A new and bizarrely incompetent Claw henchman to deal with and one less crystal in the world. That left only two of the seven unaccounted for, and he only had one so far. It was hard not to feel a little put out by the whole situation. Maybe he should start thinking of ways to steal the crystals from The Claw instead of looking for new ones.

“Tuxedo Mask,” Sailor Moon said. “Wait right there please.”

He did as she asked, trying not to notice the way her skirt swished around her hips as she made her way to him. Unfortunately, that meant keeping his gaze solidly above the collar bone, which meant he had a handful of seconds to fixate on the jagged, frayed edges of her much-shorter hair.

“I’m sorry you had to do that,” he told her. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and run his fingers along the singed ends, but she wasn’t his to touch without asking first so he kept his hands at his sides.

“It’s just hair,” she said, sounding completely unbothered by the whole thing. “It’ll grow back.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the other guardians, who were helping the young woman Raj had kidnapped earlier sit up. They were both definitely still keeping a distrustful eye on him, though, which was good. They should.

“Well,” Tuxedo Mask said after a long pause, “I should get going. It looks like you and your friends have things covered here.”

“Wait! I wanted to thank you for a job well done.” She held out her hand like she wanted to shake his, but she had her fingers curled into fists. He was a magical amnesiac who fought monsters, but this was definitely up there on weird things to happen to him.

“Uh,” he said, confused but willing to roll with it, “you’re welcome?”

He took her fist in his hand to shake and felt something small and hard drop into his palm when she unfurled her fingers. Was that what he thought it was?

“I think we gained something pretty valuable from Raj tonight,” she said, confirming his thoughts. Then she added, “Knowledge and experience.”

Ah. So it was a secret that she had somehow managed to snag the Rainbow Crystal from Raj while he had her in his grasp, and it was definitely a secret that she was giving it to him. He knew the others wouldn’t be too pleased about it. The question was why? They both wanted all seven crystals. Why would she just give one away?

“I’m happy we can trust you to have our backs,” she said. She put a subtle emphasis on the word trust, which he assumed meant she was trusting him with the crystal. Bad move, babe. He was only in this for himself. Hadn’t he made that clear already?

“I was a little worried the last time we talked,” she continued. “But I’m happy to see you came back. So thank you.”

The last time they’d talked - well, as far as he could remember - they’d discovered they both wanted the Rainbow Crystals for the same reason: they were both searching for the Moon Princess. The only difference was, her cat told her to do it while he felt a deep inner drive pushing him towards his goal. He felt like he won the Magical Mission Olympics, and he could only assume from the weird code she was speaking in that she’d come to agree.

“I will have another handshake waiting for you the next time we meet,” Sailor Moon said meaningfully.

He had no idea what to do with this trust she was putting in him. Didn’t she know how unworthy he was of it? The soft smile she gave him said no, she didn’t realize at all what a terrible person he was. What he would do, who he would betray, to get what he wanted.

“Hey,” Sailor Mercury called out, breaking the moment. “Can you be weird some other time? I think this girl needs a hospital.”

He finally broke her hold and pulled the crystal into the folds of his cape. Sailor Moon turned to her friends and the stranger still passed out on Sailor Mars’s back.

“Right.” Sailor Moon nodded. With one last look at Tuxedo Mask, she asked, “Will we see you around?”

She sort of had to. She still had one more Rainbow Crystal to give him. But, loathe as he was to admit it even to himself, he’d grown sort of fond of this weird group of people and their Sisyphean fight against The Claw. He especially liked listening to Sailor Moon lecture bad men who weren’t him. Her speeches were absolutely awful. It was very entertaining. His priority was still to collect the crystals and find the princess, but he could have a little fun along the way. As a treat.

“Trust me,” he said, purposefully echoing her earlier words to get his point across, “I’ll be there.”

#snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #sailor moon was my first anime and one of the longest running loves of my life #tuxedo mask was my very first crush #but watching it as an adult is such a trip #it's so funny to me that mamoru canonically blacks out for most of season 1 and never really thinks twice about it #like...hello? sir??? please get an mri #the amount of times he gets knocked out or brainwashed or killed cannot be good for his brain #it's just swiss cheese up there #i wonder if any of this makes sense to people unfamiliar with the 90's anime #anyway if there's a sailor moon au out there please send it my way #i would like to see it #also ryuu is luna here #my fic

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Dr Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (3/?)

Part three: the gift

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: The next meeting rolls around and Reader tries to get Spencer to open up in baby steps. Turns out he was more willing to let her in than she first expected.

Part One, Part Two

Series Masterlist

A/N: Heyyy this is my third part for Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde!!! It’s also the fifteenth installment of my 30 fics in 30 days for April event! The plot is finally about to pick up y’all!!!! I’ve got so many plans where this series is headed (though I don’t know necessarily where it’s going to end) and I’m really excited!!! This chapter brings in other references from non gothic literature as well which was fun to do- these references and metaphors are really fun to craft. I’m curious to see y’all’s reaction to this part- leave me an ask if you want here (I promise I won’t bite 🧛🏻‍♀️) Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Soft dom Spencer that turns back into slightly mean dom Spencer, Public sex, Masturbation (F), Oral sex (M receiving), Face fucking, Reader has a nickname- I think that’s it let me know if there needs to be anything else

Main Masterlist Word Count: 4.1k 😱

A meeting of the classics was once again scrawled on the whiteboard when you entered the library. It had the usual time 7pm to 11:30pm written right underneath. Instantly you fell down the rabbit hole and into another world, reality was turned on its head whenever you opened those wooden doors. Every encounter you had in the shelves, in the reading rooms, and even at the information desk seemed like you were walking into a world crafted by a surrealist. Everything was just slightly twisted and turned to feel slightly off from the reality outside those doors. It oddly made you feel more at home than your own apartment.

Each time a meeting rolled around you’d get an email notification a few weeks prior, informing you as to what the theme would be. The book club was already more extravagant than any other you had ever heard before, adding to the surrealist nature of where you were located. Last time was a somewhat lavish affair, this time it was coated in fleeting luxury.

Sure, the 1920s theme with the undeniable tinge of influence from The Great Gatsby would always lend itself to luxury, even with cheap decorations. But, the way the decor around you almost felt real told you exactly what your monthly entrance fee was going towards. You could complain about the steep price of admission, it could burn a hole into your wallet if you weren’t so careful. At any rate it did not matter, you were sure they wouldn’t care if you complained, and besides this was the only thing you really every splurged on. Plus there was the added aspect of the person you would no longer be able to indulge in if you let your membership lapse.

It was nice to treat yourself, get a taste of what it would be like to live basking in luxury 24/7. Flutes of champagne were passed around like hot cakes, admittedly they were non alcoholic after an incident a few months prior before you joined with some whiskey. It could have been a rumor fed to you by some of the vapid attendees to stir the pot so the library may cave to make their guests happy. You were going to keep your mouth shut because truth be told you didn’t mind that they were non alcoholic. You wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to be sober for Spencer.

Normally whenever a meeting rolled around you’d gladly be mingling with everyone around you. Even if personally you viewed some of their insights on whatever book they wished to discuss as shallow, seeing another’s perspective was always intriguing.

Something, namely someone, lurking in the shadows had your attention instead. It felt strikingly similar to the night of your first encounter, his eyes piercing into you, undressing you with them. The only thing that had changed is that you knew his name with some small added details. You didn't even know what type of Doctor he was, let alone what kind of man he was. But, you hoped tonight might change your prospects.

You had gotten a peek underneath the mask each time, just enough to pull you in closer. Whatever might lurk beneath, which still may be dangerous, for right now made you thrum with excitement. Spencer was just as surreal to you as the rest of the library, though he was definitely more shadowy than the others. It wouldn’t surprise you if he wasn’t real outside of here.

He could possibly just be a ghost trapped to roam the halls that instead of wanting to scare you, pleasured you. It was a silly thought for sure, but until he divulged more you struggled to convince yourself that he was real, even though his touch certainly did. The world was very different outside the library’s doors and you’d be content to be locked inside of it, that is if Spencer opened his own doors.

You circled each other for a while, neither of you talking to anyone, just staring with lust in your eyes. Tired of this cat and mouse game that you were unwilling to break out of stubbornness, he set down an empty ‘champagne’ flute to weave through the crowd to meet you.

No small talk or pleasantries came out of his mouth when he started your first conversation of the night, “At least you fit the theme this time.”

He had gestured to the dress you had chosen, a simple fringed red dress that very obviously was inspired by the era. It definitely gave you a sense of allure that leaned dark along with your dark lipstick, giving you your own cloak of mystery to match Spencer’s. At least there was a cloak for everyone else; Spencer could read you like an open book even with all your secrets. Spencer just had the ability to speed read them faster than any other human.

There was still depth to you, seemingly boundless, and certainly much more than the staple embodiment of a 1920s woman at a party being eyed at by man. You were no Daisy Buchanan that’s for sure, and Spencer was no Gatsby from what you have seen.

“As I told you last time I did fit the theme, Spencer.” You kept your lips shut tight about the fact that you had partially chosen this dress for him, picking a much more historically accurate style within your budget. Skating around the topic with ease you then teased, “Was that your way of complimenting my dress?”

“No…” That definitely meant yes, just by going off of the way he eyed your curves.

“At least you have it easy, you only have to throw on a suit, which is boring.” He snorted at that and didn’t disagree with your stinging jab at men’s fashion.

“That’s true, I don’t think I would want to see you in a boring suit, Shelley.” Inching closer to you so he possessively put a hand on your waist. He was close enough now that you could feel his breath on the exposed skin on your neck, a shiver trickling down your spine at that. His next words had a different reaction from you, your panties getting damp immediately after, “A dress has easier- access.”

The conversation turned from your typical banter into innuendos covered in mystery just like you both, with Spencer’s not being an act like you were trying to put on. You could let him do whatever he wanted to you again, which you thoroughly enjoyed, but there was a lingering fantasy you hadn’t voiced that had been in your head since he pinned you against the shelves.

“You didn’t let me reciprocate last time.” You whispered into his ear, your dirty intentions hidden by innocent words. The people around you had no idea what was going on, still milling about while you leaned in closer, only a few people looking over at you both curiously before moving on. Your next move was bold, wrapping your hand around his tie to pull him in closer, so you could keep your request a secret for his ears alone, “Will you allow me to return the favor?”

By the way his face twisted up at your words you knew you were testing a limit. All of your encounters thus far had been him touching you, not you touching him.

“Thought you would have forgotten about that by now.” This was his attempt to change the subject, to move on and expect that you’ll drop it just like him.

Everyone you knew called you stubborn for a reason, gripping his tie even harder you then doubled down, “Will you let me?”

It was highly unlikely that you were going to get a verbal response to your request, most likely you were about to get rejected, hard. You had tested your limits throughout your small time together. This however was entirely different and potentially over the line as to what Spencer would willingly allow.

Instead of shutting you out and shutting down he surprised you by opening his mouth to form the word, “Yes.”

With that you started to tug him out of the room, discreetly of course to not attract any unwanted attention and you didn’t pull him by his tie. Your fingers were wrapped around his wrist delicately, his first taste of you touching him while you guided him to a spot for your clandestine affair.

Your eagerness made you too impatient to wait and find a better secluded spot away from the crowd. The corner you chose was beyond risky to say the least, only a wall separating the both of you and the club guests. If you were lucky and went quickly you’d avoid being caught.

You wondered how long it had been since someone had offered to do this for him, instead of him probably forcing them to their knees while he continued to control the encounter with their consent. His steadfast control over each time he touched you had never wavered up until this point.

“You tell me if you want me to stop.”

He gulped hard, giving you a look like he was considering stopping you. Ultimately he kept his mouth shut, letting you drop to your knees and begin to unbutton his slacks. You worked quickly, unsure how much time you had without being caught in this little corner barely off to the side you chose or how long Spencer would let you touch him with impunity.

You hadn’t been able to really get a good look at his cock, either you had been facing away from it or it was trapped in the confines of the slacks he always wore. When you freed him from his boxers you could not help but admire it, even if only for a second.

Beautiful was an odd way to describe a cock, but there was no other word you could really find in the moment while you were on your knees. He was already hard, even leaking at the tip, and all from a few teasing words from your mouth. You’d have to test your affect on him more in the future, it obviously excited him.

When you held it in your hands and licked him from his base to tip, he had to bite on his fist at the suddenness of your touch. You pumped him a few times languidly before bringing the head to your lips and letting it slip into your mouth. He was allowing you to explore without fear of any repercussions. His hand that now rested at the back of your head being the only signal that he could take back the control anytime he wanted.

When you began to bob your head a wave of new precum hit your tongue. The taste of Spencer on your tongue was to put it lightly, intoxicating, you’d be content to taste him everyday if he let you.

Hoping too much would be your downfall if you let it, you pushed it out of your mind so you could be content with the baby steps forward you were taking. This right here, was him being vulnerable, even with you on his knees. You’d have to tread carefully if you wanted another crack in his mask to see even his darkest features, not a chink in his armor that would have him running away injured.

You weren’t sure what made the energy shift in the corner you were on your knees in, you suspected it was the soft caress of your hand along his thigh. He clammed up, suddenly wanting to take back control of the situation, no longer content with being vulnerable. It was quite clear to you that he saw giving up his control as a moment of weakness, just by going off of the once content look on his face that had twisted and seized up in frustration. Whatever he would let you do to him or whatever he wanted to do to you would always leave you wet with desire. It would however, be a lie to say that you didn’t want to see him back in a similar position one day. Getting him to be vulnerable for any extended period of time, even if it was while you were on his knees for him in a typical position for submission, was a form of progress. A little bit twisted, yes, but it still was progress.

Control fell back easily into his hands, now wasn’t the time to fight him on it; you’d be a good girl for now. The hand that had been resting gently on the back of your head tightened its grip to start controlling the pace.

You let your hand let go of his cock, resting them both on his thighs now instead. Your eyes were glassy as you tried to meet his sable irises while he began to thrust into your mouth. All you could really see was his Adam’s apple bobbing, curls falling as his head tipped back with his jaw slack. At first his thrusts had tested the waters, to see how much you could take. They then became more forceful when you gripped his thighs through his slacks and tried to pull him close.

The corner you had pulled him into was more exposed than any previous dalliance. Last time, even though it was out in the open, the stacks of shelves piled high with books shielded you along with his body pinned on top of yours. In comparison, this time you could hear the people laughing and mingling about in the next room over.

That only made you keen, moaning around him softly when you heard someone start a conversation close to the shared wall. Spencer, ever astute to your actions, picked up on what had you moaning around him. He forced your head down as far as you could go, your nose almost nuzzling the hairs at his base. He held you there harshly for a moment while he spoke, “You like it when we’re close to getting caught don’t you? That’s why you chose this spot isn’t it? You aren’t just satisfied with sneaking around, you want to get caught doing it.”

Before you could confirm or deny his questions you had to pull off of him so you could catch your breath. A string of spit connected from your mouth to the top of his cock remained unbroken until he brought his thumb to your mouth so you could continue to suck on something. He bent down to look at you, inspecting your makeup melted by tears and your spit covered lips. When he then moved his thumb from out of your mouth to grip your cheeks hard you whimpered, wondering what you did wrong, “Answer my questions.”

You scrambled to answer to avoid any type of punishment. You couldn’t make him feel good the way you wanted to if he was angry at you. Trying to muster up some conviction failed as your answer still came out shaky, “Y-yes! I-I liikeee it, Doctor!”

Satisfied with your answer and the amount of time your break had been he let go of the grip on your cheeks to resume. He slipped back inside your mouth swiftly, seeing no need to start out slow again. This time when you looked up, you found him meeting your irises with his own making you squirm underneath his piercing gaze.

“Touch yourself, we don’t have time for both of us.” With any other man you would have been irritated because mostly likely they were unwilling to finish a girl off. Spencer however, had proven he was consistently capable of that from you two previous interactions. He was also right, the place you had chosen was going to be flooded with people soon as they left the party. It was around this time that a group of people got bored and left which you didn’t understand. Why would they pay the money if they were just going to leave early?

You maneuvered your hands underneath the fringed edge of your dress, then bypassing your panties by pushing them to the side. There was no need to tease yourself, sucking off Spencer had you soaking through your flimsy lace panties. You pushed two of your fingers inside your entrance, curling them to deliciously hit at that sweet spot inside you. Even though you were enjoying the way he fucked your face in combination with you touching yourself, your fingers didn’t feel as euphoric as Spencer’s long fingers that could pull an orgasm out of you in seconds.

Spencer was nearing his release, his hips stuttering as it came closer. More tears prickled at the corner of your eyes out of frustration that you were having trouble reaching the edge with your own fingers. Spencer of course saw your frustration and began to coax you to the edge,

“Come on Shelley I know you can do it, I know you can make yourself cum for me.” Spencer’s words weren’t nearly as good as your fingers, but it did help that final push towards the edge. Falling over the edge together was a heady feeling, pleasure sparking through your veins while Spencer filled your mouth. You focused on swallowing it all down as best as you could, only a bit escaping the sides of your mouth.

When it was all said and done Spencer tucked himself back into his boxers, then rebuckling the belt holding his slacks up. He then outstretched a hand towards you, who was crumpled on the floor looking absolutely ruined. It was a simple gesture, taking his hand so you didn’t wobble on your heels as much. To you however it seemed like a weighted moment, subtly showing that you were willing to take whatever he may give to you.

He then suddenly pushed a book in your hands, which came seemingly out of thin air, only soon after you had cleaned up the corners of your mouth by licking your lips. You had been just about to clean the remnants of your makeup that was streaming down your cheeks with a makeup wipe that had been in your purse. He had other plans, putting the book in your hands and grabbed the wipe from you. He began to use the wipe to clean you off, caressing your cheeks softly this time. His movements were gentle as the cleanser in the cloth, every gentle touch that came directly after the hard made you want to fall into the dark abyss with him. You had almost moved forward to kiss him until he unintentionally stopped you by starting to wipe your smeared lipstick off. Once he was done with that you then looked down at the book he had forced you to take.

“What is this?” Your brows furrowed in question at the unexpected gift. Your relationship had a loose definition, really none at all, to get a gift felt like it was supposed to mean something. He had gifted you something in the past, the nickname you now couldn’t seem to shake, and you supposed the multiple orgasms could be classified as gifts to some.

This felt bigger than that, at least to you. But, how were you supposed to know what his train of thought was when you didn’t know anything about him. Most of what you did know contradicted each other anyway. There was no way to predict a man who had two distinct sides of him, neither of which he’d divulge more than surface level information about.

“I thought it was quite obvious, it’s a book.” His nonchalant response through you for a loop, causing you to stammer a bit. However, he did not let you form a complete thought, steamrolling you with sudden excitement, “An old copy of Frankenstein to be exact, Shelley.”

Looking down you traced your fingers over the spine on the vintage book. You weren’t sure how old the book was, you’d have to check that later. It wasn’t that you didn’t see the potential value in owning an old edition of a book, but the gesture still confused you. Instead of dwelling on a question that you weren’t going to get a straight answer for if you asked, you tried to tease him, “But I have already read it, you know that.”

He took your jab at his listening skills in stride and again was cagey as always with his response, “I do know that, that isn’t why I bought it for you.”

“Why?”

“That is for me to know, and for you to potentially figure out.” He was now moving to leave the corner, about to leave you hanging in the wind scrambling to figure out whatever he was talking about. You scrambled to follow, which caused you to almost crash into him when he abruptly stopped. “I’ll give you a hint, flip to page 56.”

Flipping it open to the page you noticed that it wasn’t a page of any significance, no famous quotes were highlighted or major climactic scenes happening.

“There isn’t anything in here.” Exasperation was evident in your voice, he was too hard to read, certainly not as hard as the book in front of you. His intentions were the hardest to figure out, he could be stringing you along in his web, bringing you closer until he devoured you like a spider with a fly.

The air itself was filled with monsters, more like potential monsters lurking waiting to reveal their intentions. The dark was often desirable, but it would be naive of you to trust it without question. There was still something about Spencer that made you want to blindly trust without question that his monsters had beauty in them. You couldn’t deny that being devoured by him sounded enticing.

“Look again.” And with a fleeting kiss on your lips that he was gone, slipping back into the party like nothing had happened. It left you to wait until he graced you with his presence next with no way to contact him. At least that’s what you thought until you followed his suggestion and looked again.

There, nestled in between two pages of the book rested a strip of paper. The handwriting on it was messy, slanted heavily in one direction and partially smudged as if written rapidly. You could still make out the ten digits written in navy blue ink, your breath caught up in your throat at that.

At the bottom there was a simple dash then right next to it read his name, Spencer. With no titles or anything else written.

The simplicity of his name written sloppy in pen ink made you want to clutch it to your heart in disbelief. The book already was too much, to big a gesture for what was supposed to just be fucking in the library while saying clever things. You wondered if he had thought this through, thinking that by the state of how it was written it was done impulsively without thought. Though you hoped that was just how he always wrote, it would be another small slice of information of who he truly was.

In reality who knows what he was thinking, a mask was still firmly over his face in front of you. It may have had cracks that gave you glimpses at the man underneath, but it would be a lie to say you even knew the slightest bit about him beyond his name. There were some dots you could connect that may lead to somewhere or nowhere. You didn’t even know what his job was, so you weren’t going to pretend that you could properly analyze his handwriting. He could even be lying about every piece of information given thus far, only using it to pull you in quicker by the spider’s silk he was potentially spinning.

All that was still locked up there in his mind, not unlike when Jekyll locked himself up in his laboratory. You only hoped this phone number signaled that he may be willing to open up his mind to you, even with the serum that could turn him into something dark. He could shut you out, insisting that what he had done was a mistake, then sealing the cracks in his mask closed. But, you were too curious for your own good, you wanted to shatter the mask, to pull away the shroud of mystery, to tell you about the monsters lurking. All you had to do was call him, and maybe he’d let the monsters free.

Part One, Part Two

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill this out to join): Strike through means tumblr won’t let me tag you

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @boxofsparklingmuses @takeyourleap-of-faith All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dom!Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde: @rainsong01 @dreatine @secretpickleprofessordean @evlfknb

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #30 fics in 30 days #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg smut

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gravityunforgiven · 3 years

Text

Right Where You Left Me (Kakashi x OC)

Pairings: Kakashi x OC, Jiraiya x Tsunade, Dan Kato x Tsunade

Synopsis:

She was the daughter of a Legendary Sannin, He, a son of a disgraced shinobi. Fate brought them together but life tore them apart. Will they be able to take control of their destinies and find their way back to each other?

...Or will they be another victim of the cruel shinobi world they are both a part of?

Chapter Two

In the next few years, Akira proved herself to be a little firecracker. She had captured the hearts of those who surrounded her almost immediately. Tsunade’s days became a little brighter due to the presence of her little one, she became her world. But still, Dan’s death loomed over her like a shadow. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he was supposed to be here, how they should be raising their child together instead of on her own. She could see him in their child every single day especially in her eyes, the eyes that Dan gave her. It was so much like his that she could almost imagine Dan staring right back at her.

And even in her disposition she could see bits of Dan mixed with her own. Akira’s character was what a person could call a perfect combination of her parents. She was normally a calm and laidback personality and even as a child she was selfless and kind to others but she could also be impatient at times and prone to rule-breaking a little more than Tsunade wanted to admit.

Everyday Akira radiated happiness to the people around her. Tsunade had hoped that her daughter would remain a civillian. That she would have a normal life inside the walls of the village, never having to know the cruelness of the shinobi world. She wanted her daughter to be protected more than anything in the world. Even Jiraiya who remained put for the first year of Akira’s life, shared Tsunade’s wishes but their hopes were all too soon shattered.

Even at only a few months old, Akira’s abilities were already starting to show itself. At first, both Tsunade and Jiraiya were in denial. It was unheard to have a child of such age show that much capabilities. They shoved it at the back of their minds for the time being but when Akira’s first birthday neared, refusing the truth was no longer an option. When Tsunade entered Akira’s room full of daisies, the truth dawned on them like a bucket full of ice cold water.

She had inherited her great-grandfather’s kekkei genkai.

The Wood Release.

She was the first since the Shodai Hokage’s time to have this nature transformation and to think that when everyone finally came into terms that this Release was extinct, Akira came along, having acquired it naturally, after it skipped two full generations of her family and more than seventy years since her great-grandfather was born.

This brought fear in Tsunade’s mind. The safety of her daughter could be at risk after this discovery. It was not a secret that the Wood Release was one, if not the most, sought after kekkei genkai in the world. Not just because of its rarity but also the power and versatility it gives its wielder.

And the destruction it may cause once fallen in the wrong hands.

If that wasn’t already bad enough as it is, a shocking discovery from the Third Hokage’s wife became the final nail in the box that sealed Akira’s fate as a protector of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

“ What is that?” Biwako asked looking at Akira’s right feet as Jiraiya lulled her for afternoon nap. The child was just about to turn one and after Tsunade’s distressed conversations with Hiruzen about the safety of her child, the Hokage together with his wife, decided to pay the child a visit.

“ It showed up a few days after she was born.” Tsunade answered. She caught the startled look that passed Biwako’s face from across the chubadai as the older woman looked at her husband.

“What?” Tsunade asked, looking at the two. She knew immediately that something was going on and if it had anything to do with her daughter then needed to know. She had to.

“ Could it be possible?” Biwako’s eyes remained fixated on the Hokage.

“It makes a lot of sense.” Hiruzen recalled how Tsunade came into his office a few months after Akira’s birth. He had never seen him so frantic as she told him ever growing abilities of Akira. She said it was just a couple of flowers in the beginning and how she thought they were just reacting to her chakra but then the incident with the daisies happened and she was so sure that there was something wrong with her. Most children do not show their affiliated chakra natures until well into their childhoods when they’ve mastered their chakra control. He did his best to calm the new mother that day and assured her that it was probably because of Akira’s genetics and heritage but it never truly left his mind. Yes, it was possible that it was because she was the great-grand daughter of the First Hokage and the daughter of the two of the most skilled shinobis that the Leaf Village had come across but he always suspected that there was more behind what was seen. Biwako’s suspicions was entirely plausible given the facts.

“Shut the doors.” He instructed in a manner he was the only one who was allowed to do so.

“Have you ever heard of The Okami?” Biwako asked as soon as the doors were closed shut and they were completely alone.

“The Wolf Spirit? Yeah, from the folktales and myths.” Jiraiya’s voice had a hint of apprehensiveness, he had a feeling that he won’t like what they were about to imply. He looked at the innocent child in his arms. It’s impossible.

“Not exactly.” And so, Biwako told the tale of the Okami to the two Sannin. She told how the wolf, believed to be once a human, protected the people in the shadows. It was known for its benevolence and truthfulness and was well-respected and honored during it’s time. And when it’s time came, the Okami vowed to its descendants that when the humankind is in dire need of protection, it will once again return to the world. Up until now, it is believed that the descendants of the Okami still remains in the heart of the Kiyoiyuki Mountains.

Biwako told them that there only has been two other people recorded in recent history to be believed as the reincarnation of the wolf. The latest was during the beginning of the Warring States Period nearly two centuries ago. They all had the same mark Akira now possessed.

“You’re saying she’s a reincarnation of this wolf-spirit that hasn’t been seen in decades?”

It was the Lord Third who answered the clearly terrified mother. “We can’t be sure for now, Tsuna. We’ll have to wait until she’s older but it would explain why she developed such abilities this early. She isn’t like the other children.”

Tsunade felt like she was going to puke. Not only were her dreams of Akira living as a simple civillian were shattered but her fate to die for the village seemed inevitable.

“So she’s like a jinchūriki?” Jiraiya’s question sounded more like a statement.

“Similar, but no. Jinchūrikis have a spirit of a tailed beast living inside of them, like a seperate being. She doesn’t have that because she the Okami is inside her very core. They are one.” Biwako explained.

In the end, the four of them decided that Akira’s true nature would remain as a secret. There will be no papers linking to her true nature, only that she is a prodigy if her own right which can be easily explained by her origins. This was necessary to ensure that she would remain safe until she was ready to defend herself from those who would want to use her for their own gain.

In the following years, she would be trained rigorously to prepare her for her role as a protector of Konohagakure. A number of both current and non-Jonin-senseis were handpicked by the Hokage together with her mother and godfather were chosen to be her teachers and senseis in the upcoming years.

Tsunade was against the idea at first. She wanted to give her daughter a normal childhood like everyone else but knowing that training her is the only way to protect her, she agreed to the plan with a heavy heart.

It wasn’t easy to raise Akira on her own especially with her still not being able to really move on with Dan’s death knowing that they should be raising Akira together and her depression that was constantly making her day even harder but she did her best, the best she could manage. She thought her medical ninjutsu for the next nine years and just as she expected, she was a natural at it. That made Tsunade smile.

Much to their relief, Akira had a somewhat normal childhood, at least for the first nine years. She trained with her sensei’s on the weekends, attended the academy (sometimes) on weekdays and played with the other kids during the afternoon. Her skills were already advanced for her rank as an academy student when she was five. It was already comparable with a newly promoted chūnin and sometimes she would even spar with kids in the higher ranks.

She wasn’t always compliant though. She would skip sessions with her senseis from time to time and would play with the other kid instead, her taijutsu needed some work and her kenjutsu could still be improved. The adults took that as a good sign. They didn’t want to take her personality away and turn her into some sort of killing machine just because her destiny demanded her to.

It was during her training with Inoichi Yamanaka, a former student of her father, Dan Katō, when her nature as the reincarnation of The Okami was once and for all, confirmed. Her eyes had turned a into a bright shade of yellow, her pupils constricted to a tiny speck in the sea of yellow and her chakra that was usually associated with the color blue, became white as a snow. It was neutral. And deadly. Akira fainted after the incident and Inoichi decided to volunteer as her future master.

She was nine when her mother left. Tsunade had taught her everything she could in terms of medical ninjutsu. The top medical-nins will supervise Akira’s training from then on.

It was just supposed to be a few months of sabbatical. She just wanted some time alone to deal with her grief and depression. She wanted to be better mother for her daughter. Tsunade even asked Akira if she wanted to come travel with her and she actually hope that she would agree. She hoped that she could just whisk Akira away from her responsibilities from this damned shinobi world, she would have done so of she said yes. But like any other nine year old kid, she didn’t want to leave the place she had called home or fall behind her friends. Akira refused and instead asked her mother to bring her a gift from every town she would come and visit until her return.

And Akira didn’t realize her childhood would soon come to an end soon after her mother crossed the front gates of Konohagakure and onto the world outside.

Next up: Lots of Kakashi and Akira history.

Ask or Reblog for a tag!

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animatorweirdo · 3 years

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Breaking point

You have started struggling with your mental health after many terrible sessions, assisting Maluk with his experiments. Melui gets assaulted once again and it was the last straw. You allow the beast inside you to get free.

Warning; Attempt of a sexual assault, cursing and violence.

Chapter 15

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This has been happening for four days. Four fucking days. You were not sure if you can continue it much longer. You just wanted to break down and destroy everything around you. It was like you were filled with painful fuel and you were ready to explode like a raging bomb.

Maluk has demanded you as his lab assistant to fulfill your debt to him. You didn't think much of it first and obeyed like a good servant. It wasn't bad in the beginning. You literally just had to clean his stuff and the lab, but then... The experiments happened. He made you watch as he tested on poor elves and it was crucial. All that screaming and the blood. They were literally implanted in your head and you couldn't escape them even in your cell. Maluk forced his test subjects to drink some weird potions and the after-effects were horrifying. He was literally testing poison on living beings. That happened for two days, then he switched on something more crucial. He started strapping his living test subjects on tables and cut them open, while they were still conscious. He made you stand on the sideline and watch the scene. You lost count on how many times you almost gagged from the sight.

You could have done something. Ask him to stop, but that was a stupid choice. Who are you to tell an insane scientist to stop what he's doing in his own lab? Give the elves something that could relieve the pain, but you literally have nothing to help them. Maluk would notice if you took something from his shelves, and you didn't want to get into trouble. You promised Nelle you wouldn't do something stupid. It was hard, but you tried to stand your ground and watch as the poor souls were killed by the insane maiar doctor.

You did dare to ask him why he was doing it, and he simply answered 'for the good of the Dark lord'. His other answer was... That he was simply curious and enjoyed his concoctions taking effect. It was twisted and mentally sick.

It didn't end there. When you finally were released to do other cleaning duties and; It seemed Maluk took every chance to fill your head with sick test suggestions or what he does to his next lab rat. It looked like you two were having innocent conversations but the subjects were far from innocent. You were not sure why he seemed to test your every nerve. It was like he wanted to see how much your nerves can withstand all the screaming, blood, and constant pain of others. And it was working, because you're almost at your breaking point.

You can't stand all the tortures those elves were going through and you even had a suggestion to end their pain yourself. To finally release them from the torture they were forced to put in. The thought scared you so much, you had to speak about it with Nelle. She was surprisingly supportive about it and tried to comfort you. Melui tried too, but you couldn't muffle the screams that haunted you during the nights.

Four fucking days and you were ready to lose it. Why was Maluk so keen on making you watch and fill your head with such horrifying scenes? This was too much even for you. You had seen blood and some screwed-up stuff, but this was crossing the line. Did you make Maluk angry at some point? You didn't know, but you had an odd feeling. Whenever you passed the main hall, you felt like Langon was looking at you. His eyes piercing down on your soul like he wanted to see you break down your walls. It was almost unbearable. Why were these guys so keen on seeing you break?

You rubbed your eyes a bit, trying not to be seen tired. You sighed and looked at the last of Maluk's torture tools which needed to be cleaned from blood. Two more to go, then you can leave. You took the next thing from Maluk's torture devices and started cleaning. Wash the blood off from these and you can go. Your eyes were drooping badly and you could barely stay up. You were wobbling on the stool you sat upon. You lightly smacked yourself awake. Don't fall asleep idiot. You can rest when you return to your cell.

You took the last torture tool and dipped it in the water. The water has been turned red and dirty from all the blood you had to clean. Elven blood. You silently loathed the existence of the crazy scientist, who only enjoyed torture and death. You wanted to rip the scar on his face open and make it worse. No, you wanted to rip his face right off his skull and make him eat it while you rip out his carcass and break his bones. You wanted to shove the poisons into his throat and see how he would like the taste of his own medicine while they burned his throat right open. You only needed to wait for the moon and let the wendigo - wait a moment! You stopped and frowned at yourself. Why would you ever suggest using the wendigo? That got to be the stupidest idea ever. You can't control it!

You almost fell from your chair because your balance wobbled. "Oopsie daisy!" Maluk grabbed your shoulder and balanced you back on the stool. Your heart started beating anxiously from fright as you looked at him. You didn't hear him coming at all and now he saw you like this. "Feeling a bit sleepy now, are we, my dear?" He asked. "... No," You shook your head, denying it. "No need to deny it, but I suggest you stay awake, or other wise you might not be able to do your other duties," He said. He then suddenly had a face like he had a light pulp over his head. "Oh, I actually got something that might help you," He walked to one of his tables. You stared and looked at him with curiosity and with worry. What was he up to this time? He came back with an open bottle. He held the bottle in front of you. "Sniff this and your tiredness will go away," He smiled. You stared at the open bottle with great suspicion. That can't be just something that removes tiredness, and you really don't want to be his test subject. "Don't worry, it's not poisonous if that's what you fear," Maluk said with an amused smirk. You almost glared at him. Hatred toward this guy was pure. You glanced at the bottle then leaned forward to bring your nose close to its opening. You took a few sniffs.

Your eyes widened in shock and you pulled back in a reflex. Your bad breakfast bread almost came out if you didn't hold your gag. What the fuck was that?! It smelled disgusting like a rotten corpse was put inside a tiny bottle. You mentally whined and groaned in disgust because you couldn't express it openly with Maluk around. You held your nose shut because your nose was painfully stinging. You glanced at Maluk with a plain expression. Well, he was right about the tiredness going away. "Better?" He asked with that fake smile of his. You didn't say anything and just nodded, rubbing your stinging nose. "Well, that's great. You can go now, don't worry about the last equipment," He said motioning at the last thing you need to clean. "Really?" You asked, confused. "Yeah, you can go," He nodded. You hesitated a bit before standing up. "Thank you, my lord," You bowed and made your way to the exit. Maluk smiled as he watched you leave. It's showtime.

You walked in the hallway then finally came to the kitchen where Nelle and Melui were sited. Melui noticed your arrival. "(Name), how are you feeling? " He asked. "Same as usual-!" Your nose suddenly stung harder and it was emitting a burning booger. What the hell! You rubbed your nose, then processed your situation. Your nose was stinging hard, your face was starting to burn up and your eyes also were drying up for some reason. You tilted your head and suddenly it became woozy. "(Name), what's wrong? " Melui asked with a worried tone. Both Nelle and Melui were looking at you with concern. You had no clue what was going on. "I... I don't know," You said. You tried to move but your legs suddenly were giving out. You quickly held on to the wall for support. Nelle and Melui almost jumped when you did that. Melui quickly came beside you and supported you by your shoulder. You were having a bit difficult time breathing. It was like the air in your lungs became heavier. You tried to take a deep breath and calm yourself. Nelle came over and put the back of her hand against your fire head. "You're having a fewer," She said. Huh? You swiped your forehead and noticed you had sweat on your hand. Now that she mentions it. It was becoming kinda hot. You breathed heavily. Too hot to handle. How in the fucking hell you managed to catch a fever?!

"(Name), did Maluk do something to you?" Nelle asked. "No, not really," You shook your head. Then it hit you. The bottle! You sniffed the thing that was inside that bottle he gave you to sniff. You mentally groaned. You were cautious that something like this would happen and you still sniffed the concoction that probably could turn you into a toad.

"I was almost falling asleep, so he made me smell a weird scent from a bottle," You explained. Nelle nodded. "It smelled really bad, but I wasn't tired after that, but now I kinda feel like shit," You said. "There is no way you can suddenly catch a fewer. You were fine this morning," Nelle stated. "Actually you can catch a fewer with a cold cell, poor food diet, and days without a proper path, but yeah, this doesn't feel like a normal fewer," You acted like a smart-ass. Nelle glared at you which made you shut up. "I'll go get something to help with the fewer. Can you handle some of the chores with Melui?" She asked. You sniffed with your stinging nose. "I think I can," You said. She nodded then turned to Melui. "Look after her," She said. "I will," He nodded. Nelle then walked out of the kitchen and you were left with your white-haired elf friend.

"Come on, how about you rest a bit? I can take care of some of the work?" Melui helped you to sit down on a stool. "I can't. An orc might come yelling. We can't be caught 'slacking'," You said the last part with a sarcastic tone. "Well... How about I stay on guard while you rest and when I see someone coming I signal you then you can continue working?" He suggested. You thought about it for a moment. That might work. You nodded in approval. "Okay, but only if we take turns so you can rest as well. I want to have it fair for both of us," You said. Melui smiled. He had a pretty sweet smile. "Alright, let's do it," He said and you nodded.

You two continued with working. It was peaceful and you were dealing well with your sudden fewer. However, you two were completely unaware of a pair of eyes watching you two with malicious intent.

Maluk was just playing around with his tools and thinking of new recipes for poisons and concoctions to deal more pain to his test subjects. He had an evil grin on his face. Someone knocked on the doors of his lab, disturbing his alone time. He frowned in annoyance. Usually, Langon would be boring enough to knock when he is visiting, or maybe... It was someone else. "Come in," He called, throwing his tool away and turning toward his visitor. The doors opened and someone unexpected came in. He grinned as he recognized the mystery person.

"What do I own the pleasure to see you coming here willingly, sister dear?" He asked. Nelle glared at him. "What did you gave to (Name), Nelo?" She asked. He glared at her for a moment before turning back to his usual grin. "I don't know why is it so hard to get that my name is now Maluk, Nelo died a long time ago. As for your other question. I know no one with a name (Name)," He grinned. Nelle growled and glared at him. "The human. What did you give to her?" She asked. "Oh! So her name is (Name)! Sorry if I don't bother knowing your pet's names," He said with fake sympathy. "She's not a pet, and just answer the question," She stated. "Bossy as much. Have you forgotten your place? You are in no place to make demands to me. You might as well tell Langon to give this fortress back to the elves," He said. "... No... What did you gave her... Lord Maluk?" Nelle asked. "Now was that really hard? Do not worry I just gave your little human friend something to refresh her fea from fatigue," He said. "You what?" Nelle questioned. "She has a serious fewer now," She said. "Oh... Well, maybe the concoction was a bit too strong for her, or a human," He grinned. "Humans are so fragile if she even is one," He said. "What do you mean by that?" Nelle frowned. "Really Nelle, you're asking that? Tell me how long did you intend to hide little (Name) from us?" He asked. "I do not know what you mean," Nelle said. "Are you sure or are you still playing dumb?" He asked. She frowned in confusion. It was silent for a moment.

"Oh. Oh!" Maluk started laughing. "You really don't know, do you?" He asked. "Know what?" She asked. "Alright, I tell you," He calmed down from his laughing fit. "Langon thinks little (Name) is not a human, so he told me to reveal what's she's keeping hidden under her skin," He said. "I started noticing too that she has something hidden deep within her fea," He added. "I first thought I could crack her up with all my experiments since humans tend to be more sensitive on the subject of pain and misery," He smiled. "But... Then I got bored and gave her a concoction that forces to fea to become... Sensitive," He said, then chuckled. "By weakening the body?" Nelle questioned. "Correct," He said. "If she's indeed a maiar in disguise. She would have to come out and fix her body from breaking," He added. Silence took over as Nelle progressed the information. She has been with you for a long time and she knows you're not a maiar. Maiar can hide their fea from other creatures but other maiars can sense it. Your fea is wide open and you are not even trying to hide. You're not even able to do such a thing because humans cannot sense their own fea.

"You're wrong. She's a pure human by body and fea," Nelle said. Maluk hummed in amusement like he found the statement funny. "We will see. Wanna bet for it?" He asked. He took a vial from his table and held it toward Nelle. "If she's a pure human as you say, use this to reverse the fewer," He threw the vial to her. She caught it with no problem. "But! If she's a maiar, you will not interfere when Langon and I deal with her," Maluk smirked. Nelle held down her glare. There was no way you were a maiar. "Let's see how she will manage before the moonrise," He says. "Deal," Nelle said then left through the door. The door banged shut behind her.

"So rude. She forgot she is a servant and has to ask permission to leave... Why did end up with a sister like her," Maluk said then stared through the window ceiling at the sky.

You don't know what or how it happened. You and Melui were doing your chores and minding your business, but then... You found yourself on the floor, held down by two orcs. A familiar orc was holding Melui by his hair. Your poor friend was whimpering and crying in fear. Your fewer was also making your situation worse. You could barely hold on to your consciousness and vision. Everything was burning and you could not stop the shaking your body was doing. How did it come to this? Melui gasped when the orc pulled his hair quite hard.

"Let him go! You fat piece of shit!" You yelled out in anger, not holding back your vulgar language. One of the orcs above you kicked your head down. You grunted in pain as your head hit the floor. Ow!

The orc snorted then held Melui close to his face sniffing the poor elf's hair. "I couldn't have my fun because that bitch interfered and that taking servants is not approved, so I better make this quick," He said. "No! Please no!" Melui quivered in terror. Your eyes widened, then you struggled with all your strength. There was no way you can allow that to happen! You bit and kicked, hitting the orcs with all your anger and strength. The orcs above you actually had trouble keeping you down. "Grr... Beat the bitch down!" The orc ordered. The two orcs then started punching and kicking you with all their force. They were stronger than you, so you easily went down, covering yourself from their assault. They didn't stop there and continued beating you. " (Name)! " Melui yelled out but was held back by the orc. He was then pushed against the table and held down that his face laid against the surface. The orc touched his hips while holding him down. "Do not yell or your friend will die," The orc stated, then started grabbing on his clothes. "No! No! Please!" He whimpered as he was powerless against the assault that was going to happen to him.

Your brain was triggered when you heard Melui's whimpers. That orc was gonna do something that will traumatize him for life! Melui was an elf and elves were immortal. He would be remembering this day how he was sexually assaulted by an orc, an orc! And you were getting beaten up like a misbehaving dog. The orcs. You hated them. You hated this place. You hated the orcs. You hated Maluk and his psychotic nature. You hated them all. They deserve to die!

Your heart released a powerful familiar pulse, and you felt like something just snapped inside you. Like chains were unbound. Your skin became white in a second, and your eyes covered in eyes as your furious bright blue eyes shined through. There was only one thing in your mind as you set your gaze upon the orc holding Melui.

Kill them all!

#maglor x reader #silmarillion x reader #wendigo reader #maglor #silmarillion #tolkien #silmarillion fanfiction #maglor imagines #silmarillion imagines #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagines #silm fic #supernatural reader #elves

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blacklister214 · 2 years

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Suspicion: So Close and Yet So Far

Having just finished Suspicion on Apple TV I find myself very frustrated because it really was so close to being a good show.

Good pacing, good casting, good general plot, and good characters established on 4/5 of the main suspects. Now I comes the part where I rant about missed opportunities and poor choices, and WTF mistakes.

SPOILERS below

1) Sean Tilson. It felt to me that Sean’s character was being written by two different people with opposite intentions for him. Somebody wants him to be an anti-hero. The person had him standing up for the flight attendant, visiting with his Grandpa, sharing tragic backstory, not killing Natalie at the drop, not violently reacting to Natalie attacking him, and not letting the rendition team do whatever to the gang. The other person was writing a psycho, blowing up the married woman he’s been sleeping with, extremely violently stealing a motorcycle, and straight-up murdering an innocent bystander for his car. To me, criminal with a code was clearly the way to go. It makes the him bringing all of them along to the US plausible before the whole “he was secretly delivering them to the rendition team.” It allows for him to bond with the group, which informs his decision not to sell the gang out. It allows for a stronger connection to Tara, making her part in the scheme to frame him have more of an impact. It also gives you options in the finale about how his presence may change the outcome.

2) Why were they suspects again? Was it literally just the kidnappers wore the royal family masks and they were British citizens at the hotel? They had connections to the company yes, but so did half the hotel. The British thing was handed to them by the kidnappers. That the police thought was enough to arrest a bride in the middle of her wedding? Really? If they’d been wearing Hitler masks would they have rounded up the German citizens? Sean, fine he’s a known merc on the scene of the crime. Yes, Natalie’s being there is coincidental, a possibly merits an interview, but an arrest? Give me a break. Aedesh’s presence is not strange on his end. He is desperately trying to build his company. Copeland having the interview at all is what’s weird.

3) Why did Copeland try to kill Tilson? He hired the mercenaries (Tillman’s group) to find Leo. Those were not non-lethal, sedate to interrogate methods. How can Tillman’s boss get answers from a dead man? He is the most likely candidate to be involved after all.

4) Why interrogate the suspects like that at an airfield? You can hustle them onto a plane and interrogate there, which is far more secure.

5) How did those “appearance changes” pass Tilson’s inspection? Eddie looked different, nobody else did. Aedesh didn’t even shave his beard. No one died their hair.

6) How is it possible that even in the hotel where the kidnapping took place no one recognized two of the suspects at the check-in desk. Also why not send Eddie? He had the pixelated face after all.

7) Cresswell turned himself in rather than the police finding him. Coincidence or part of Tara’s plan? If plan of Tara’s plan then a risk, seeing as her father isn’t super stable. If not, then too much of a coincidence. The police should have at least had the win of finding him.

8) Cresswell’s tragedy also might have played better if they’d made Tara’s mother older than 18, and actually married to Cresswell. Weird that she was his one and only love, yet they were together at least three years, had a kid, and they didn’t even manage a courthouse wedding.

9) Tara’s Plan is unclear and off brand. She made it sound like she was planning on letting the other three swing with her. Not really on brand with “Tell the Truth” mantra. Her rationalizations for why they deserved to be smeared with lies was weak. Sean doing shifty deeds I’d buy, but they needed to be enumerated. Him being the one who took Daisy would have worked. Natalie deserved it because why? She was their financial manager? Was she moving bribe money? More specifics necessary. Aedesh was the weakest of all. He deserves to go to jail for kidnapping for NOT committing a crime? For wanting a cybersecurity job with a PR company. They ALL deserve a worse fate than the woman who actually broke up her family, destroyed her father, and helped deny climate change to calamitous effect on the world?

10) How was Tara planning on handling Eddie? She knew he was a cop. The Police would believe him. She was confessing the plan to him. She had no blackmail material on him. Was she going to kill him if Dios ex Sean didn’t show up?

11) Why would Aedesh run with Tara after any of it? She did nothing to redeem herself. She deliberately stuck him in this shit because he didn’t commit hacktivism.

12) How is Eddie alive? Did Sean mean for him to survive? Why?

13) Eddie is alive and communicating. Why isn’t he yelling from the rooftops what actually happened?

A few tweaks and this show was fixed:

1) Anti-hero Sean. Non-lethal force while stealing vehicles. No murdering married lovers.

2) Tara’s and Leo’s plans should not have aligned. In her version once they draw out the Katherine’s confession, she and Leo confess to faking the kidnapping. Simple, on brand, about the Truth. Sean serves as the temporary decoy and she even plans to clear him in the end.

Leo and company should have been the ones to set up everyone else, with the plan in place to have Tara and the others take the fall. Leo is about the re-branding, not the truth. He could have been planning on staging a kidnapper falling out, Tara having a crisis of conscience killing the others then herself. Sean saves then day, and they all escape together, setting up S2.

#suspicion #apple tv #problems #fixes #spoliers

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surrealsunday · 4 years

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A NYE Mood Tattoo Not-So-Snippet...

NOTES: This is Explicit. Hear that? EXPLICIT. You’ve been warned.

Sorry this is a little late, friends (or a little late for Canadians, VERY late for Europeans). It was supposed to be a snippet. But I think I blacked out and now it’s over 11k. So... er... Happy New Year 😂!!! Hope you enjoy.

* * * *

Eliott turns the corner in the hospital to a not unfamiliar sight, but a welcome one all the same. Idriss and Daphne stand facing one another. Daphne has her hands on her hips, the look on her face so fierce she might look intimidating if not for what she had called her ‘New Years Eve scrubs’, pink decorated with splashes of colour like fireworks. Even in profile, Eliott can read the amusement mixed with what is likely genuine irritation, written across Idriss’s face.

And then there’s Lucas.

He stands to the side and between then, with an expression of such exasperation, Eliott can’t help the way his own face immediately breaks into a smile at the sight.

He stops before reaching the trio, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he watches. None of them have noticed him, too caught in their current squabble.

“I wasn’t the one who administered it, goldilocks,” Idriss says through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t even on shift.”

“But you followed up, muscles,” she argues. “You should have seen the error.”

“Oh right,” Idriss scoffs. “With all our free time.”

“It doesn’t require free time! It’s our job!”

“Jesus Christ, shut up!” Lucas interrupts, a hand moving to press against his forehead, before he rakes it back through his hair, his frustration clear. He seems to think better of his tone, however, when both Daphne and Idriss direct their ire his direction. “I’m just saying, I don’t care.” His voice has softened infinitesimally but it has maintained its hardened authority. “Fix it. I’ll talk to Dr. Faure. And you two better back me up after I do.”

Idriss and Daphne both cross their arms against their chests as they nod in perfect synchronicity, looking a lot like children on the received end of a scolding, who desperately want to talk back, but realize the consequences of doing so are not worth the impulse. Eliott very nearly laughs, biting his lip around his smile as he watches the scene unfold.

It still amazes him the way Lucas can look like he’s towering over others, even when – in Idriss’s case at least – they should be the one’s doing the towering. But there’s something so powerful about the way Lucas stands, the way he speaks, and the no-nonsense way he demands everyone else keep up because he won’t be waiting on him. There’s no question Idriss and Daphne feel the same, though Eliott doubts their reactions involve a sudden and desperate desire to pull Lucas into the nearest on-call room.

“What?” Lucas asks with eyebrows raised when Idriss and Daphne continue to stand staring at him. “You waiting to be dismissed? Go.”

Daphne huffs, and with an impressive flip of her ponytail, stomps off. Idriss pauses before he takes his own leave.

“You’re a prick,” he says. Despite his words there’s a small smile on his face when he looks at Lucas. Eliott knows that feeling – loving Lucas for his prick-ish ways as much as they piss you off. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the screw-up.”

Lucas nods. “It’s not your fault anymore than it’s mine. But we’re the one’s picking up the pieces so… just sort it, alright?” Lucas doesn’t look particularly forgiving, but his words are measured and more agreeable than Eliott would have expected, if a little exhausted. But then… it’s been a very long week.

Working straight through Christmas to the eve of the New Year has taken its toll and Eliott knows just how much of himself Lucas gives every shift. Eliott is no different, of course, but Lucas’s approach to work takes an emotional level of control Eliott will never quite understand, nor master. Something Eliott has come to realize since being with Lucas, is that the restraint Lucas uses while at work – adopting a professional veil that allows for little emotional expression outside of when he’s with the kids in the cancer ward – emotionally and physically exhausts him in a way Eliott hasn’t experienced – not like that. But despite Eliott’s protests that Lucas let himself go – relax on occasion – his boyfriend is nothing if not stubborn.

It’s alright though. It just means Eliott gets the most excellent pleasure of helping him relax, within hospital walls and outside of them. Of course, Eliott takes this honour quite seriously, and is happy to do so at every possible opportunity.

Though… Eliott considers the past week with a frown… there hasn’t been a lot of relaxing as of late. Exhaustion has won out even over everything else, including Eliott and Lucas’s fairly insatiable appetites for one another. The most they’ve managed over the past week is to wrap arms around one another as they’ve collapsed into bed together. It’s been nice. Certainly nothing Eliott would complain about. But the prospect of having the next two days off has his blood singing with the possibility of more.

Eliott lets his gaze glide across Lucas’s profile as his boyfriend turns with Idriss, saying a few more words and watching their friend disappear down the hall. His eyes catch on the side of Lucas’s neck where it meets his shoulder and a tendon strains against skin. Eliott wants to press his lips there, sink his teeth in and suck until the skin blooms with a bruise. Lucas will complain, tell Eliott he’s an asshole and leaving marks is ‘so highschool’. But then Eliott will catch him in the bathroom, staring at his own reflection as he presses two fingers down on the bruise and shivers.

Fuck.

Eliott wants him.

Lucas turns back towards the nurse’s station, depositing the paperwork he holds onto the surface and leaning over to leave a note. The line of his jaw is sharp. He’s clearly still irritated, his authoritative mask still in place. It slips the moment he turns, and his eyes finally catch Eliott’s. His formally hardened expression softens instantly, and he smiles. Eliott’s smile mirrors Lucas’s own and he presses off of the wall and approaches as Lucas does the same.

“So, you just stood there and watched as I dealt with those two?” Lucas says the moment they stop in front of one another. He’s cocked an eyebrow, but paired with the sweet smile on his face, the effect only makes him look like the sort of adorable troublemaker you want to smother in kisses… or, maybe that’s just Eliott.

Eliott raises an eyebrow to match Lucas’s in challenge. “You’d rather I’d have stepped in to rescue you?” Lucas snorts but doesn’t answer, both of them knowing Eliott’s idea of a rescue would be anything but. “Besides,” he adds, letting his eyes drag down Lucas’s body before they travel back up again to meet his eyes. “I like watching you.” Eliott knows he’s not imagining the way Lucas’s cheeks have taken on a sudden, rosy tinge.

Lucas’s eyes skitter away as he scoffs. “Perv.”

Eliott laughs. “Hey, I meant that in a purely innocent way. Just appreciating how hot and in-charge you are. In a strictly professional sense of course.”

“Mmhmm,” Lucas hums as he looks back to him, clearly not believing a word Eliott says. “What are you still doing here, anyways? Thought you were gonna go home to check on Daisy before dinner.”

Eliott nods, glancing towards the clock hanging above the nurse’s station. Shift should have ended almost an hour ago.

“Got caught up,” he admits, looking back to Lucas. “You too?”

Lucas nods. “Bit of a screw-up. Gotta go find Faure. You go home and check on Daisy. We can meet at dinner.”

Eliott eyes him suspiciously. “What about your clothes?” On a normal day, Lucas could get away with casual wear for a dinner with friends, but a New Years Eve celebration demands a different level of formality.

“Brought ‘em with me,” Lucas says with a shrug. “I’ll get ready here.”

Eliott takes in Lucas’s overly casual disposition. “This isn’t some elaborate plan to be late to dinner, is it?”

Lucas rolls his eyes and Eliott can hear the sarcasm in his voice before he even speaks. “Why would I ever want to be late to dinner with your ex?”

Eliott sighs, smiling despite himself as he reaches to pull Lucas closer by the front of his scrubs – a move Lucas allows likely only because the surrounding hallways appear to be deserted. “Anna was never my girlfriend,” he says unnecessarily. Lucas knows this so course. “And it’s not like it’s just dinner with her. Yann will be there,” he reminds Lucas, though it once again feels a bit unnecessary – not like they haven’t already discussed this dinner at painful length. “Idriss and Manon too.”

Lucas doesn’t look comforted by this at all, though Eliott didn’t expect him to. “Idriss won’t even get there until later.” A result of Idriss working a longer and less convenient shift than them. “It’s a double date and you know it.” His lower lip juts out just enough to hint at the pout he would have committed to if not for their current work setting.

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees with a shameless shrug. That had been the point of course. But he and Yann had agreed to somewhat soften the potential Lucas-shaped reaction to such a suggestion, by expanding the guest list to include the other couple. “And it’s going to be fun.”

Lucas dips his head and steps closer, curling fingers into the front of Eliott’s scrubs and looking up through his lashes. Eliott’s mouth drops open, surprised by the sudden change in mood from his boyfriend, but far too enraptured to question it. “More fun than staying home?” Lucas bites his lower lip, letting it pop from his mouth shiny and wet. “Could stay in bed,” Lucas continues, his voice soft and suggestive. “Just me and you. Naked.” He blinks slowly, his eyes wide and deep blue. “I could ride you. Ring in the new year with you inside me.”

Eliott shudders, squeezing his eyes. It does nothing to stop the flood of images filling his brain. He slips his hands down to Lucas’s waist, squeezing as he opens his eyes and calls on every measure of self-control he’d normally allow to desert him when faced with such a suggestion. “You are…” He stares at Lucas’s guileless face – a façade he’s perfected, “an unbelievable brat. And we’re going to dinner.”

Lucas huffs, shoving Eliott away from him and crossing his arms across his chest with his face turned away. “You used to be easier for me.”

Eliott laughs and it comes out as a low rumble, the air between them so heady with want, he’s beginning to question his own decisions now too. “You have no idea how easy I am for you, baby.”

Lucas’s eyes track back to him and rest for a moment. “You better make good on that later.” It should be a threat. Instead, it sounds only like an invitation.

Eliott nods. “I will.” It’s a guarantee and they both know it.

“Fine.” Lucas’s arms fall back to his sides. “I need to get going. I’ll see you at the restaurant then.”

Eliott nods. “See you there.” He doesn’t make a move to leave.

Lucas stares at him for a moment before he turns and begins making his way down the hall.

“Dr. Lallemant,” Eliott calls after him, smile already growing on his face.

Lucas stops and glances back curiously. “What?”

“It’s red. Definitely red.”

Lucas’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion before his eyes clear with understanding and he glances down at his arm, his tattoo half exposed by the way he’s pulled up the sleeves of his lab coat. When he looks back up it’s with his middle finger raised. Eliott laughs, watching as Lucas spins back around and rushes down the hall.

In all honesty, Eliott isn’t sure how they’re supposed to make it through a dinner with friends, and the party at Alex, Emma, and Lucille’s that is to follow, without jumping one another. The anticipation feels tangible in the air, licking at his skin, both hot and cold. He can practically see the flames form, blue at their core, red as they lick at his skin. One thing is for certain, if history has taught Eliott anything… Lucas is worth the wait.

* * * *

“And how’s my baby?” Eliott asks before rethinking his choice of words. “Don’t tell Lucas I call you that when he’s not around. He’s the jealous type.”

Eliott smiles down at the furry face of Daphne’s pet bunny. Eliott and Lucas had agreed to care for her over the next four days as Daphne and Basile were going away following Daphne’s shift at the hospital. Eliott and Lucas had been pondering getting a pet for a while but being as busy as they were at the hospital had decided to put it off until they knew they could devote themselves a little better to the undertaking. Knowing how much they both missed having pets around, however, Daphne had given them a chance to take care of Daisy while she was away. ‘A pet-parent test run’ she’d called it and they’d been more than eager to accept. And so, Daisy was theirs – at least for the next four days.

Eliott pulls her from her cage, giving her the requisite snuggle and kisses before he lets her down on the floor to explore and goes about cleaning her cage, providing some fresh water and food, before cutting up a couple radishes and strips of bell pepper to leave her as a treat for later. Maybe they spoil her a little. Eliott feels confident Daphne won’t mind, and Lucas and Eliott had both agreed that as Daisy’s uncles it was their job to overly indulge her.

Eliott spends a little too much time playing with Daisy and is forced to rush through his shower, changing quickly into a simple maroon button up shirt, and black slacks. He’s just pulled his coat on and is scrutinizing his artfully tousled hair in the mirror by the door when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Eliott smiles when he sees Lucas’s name on the screen.

He picks up. “Hey baby, I was –”

“Where are you?!!”

Eliott’s eyebrows rise, surprised by the ferocity of Lucas’s tone. He quickly glances towards the clock on the stove in the kitchen. There’s a good five minutes until their dinner reservation and the restaurant is right between their apartment and Eliott’s old one. They’d specifically planned it that way. At this pace, he’d likely have ended up being five or so minutes late but… the point is, he’s not late yet.

“I’m… on my way.” It suddenly seems in the best interest of his desire to have sex with Lucas again at some point in the future that he not tell Lucas he hasn’t left yet. He rushes to collect his keys as he speaks. “Why?”

“Why?! Because I’m here you asshole, and so is SHE.”

Never in his wildest dreams did Eliott expect Lucas would be early to dinner. “Oh.”

“Oh? Oh?! That’s what you have to say? I swear to –”

“Wait,” Eliott interrupts as he locks their door, hurrying down the building’s hallway, “you’re calling me with Anna right there?”

“She went to the bathroom,” Lucas huffs. “Probably ‘cause she knows this is fucking awkward too and that our boyfriends suck.”

“Yann isn’t there?” Eliott asks, knowing immediately this was a stupid question to ask.

“If he was here, would I be calling you?! He’s late too, the dickhead.”

Eliott decides against pointing out he’s not actually late – not for another two minutes. “Well, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

“And what am I supposed to do ‘til then?!”

Eliott holds his breath for a moment so as not to laugh. “Talk to her maybe? Make conversation.”

Lucas is quiet for a moment. “God, I hate you.”

Eliott grins, pushing out of the front door of their building and making his way to the street. “You don’t.”

“She’s coming back. I have to go.”

“Love you, baby,” Eliott rushes to say before Lucas hangs up. “Please don’t kill one another before Yann and I get there.” Lucas hangs up.

Eliott tucks his phone back into his pocket, picking up his pace to a gentle jog.

It’s not Anna he has to worry about – not Lucas either really. That’s the ridiculous part of Lucas’s protests when it comes to spending any time with Anna. Eliott is almost positive Lucas actually likes her. It makes sense really. They’re both funny, smart, witty people, able to trade barbs and jokes with the sort of seamless back and forth that’s more familiar in a scripted movie than real life. And Eliott is positive Lucas harbors a grudging amount of respect for the way Anna refuses to back down when faced with any misplaced animosity directed her way in the form of one blue-eyed boyfriend. But while Lucas and Anna’s tentative foray into friendly acquaintance has been in process for months, they’ve never been forced to test their precarious comradery while alone. This was admittedly not a contingency he and Yann had considered. Eliott slows his pace enough to pull out his phone and text Yann.

You almost at the restaurant?

Yann responds immediately. Had to drop something by my mom’s. Running a bit late

Eliott sighs unhappily, texting back. Same. He adds a few alarm bell emojis for good measure.

Yann texts back a series of question marks.

Lucas and Anna are there. ALONE. Eliott stares at his phone as he watches the typing bubble appear on Yann’s end.

Oh fuck

Eliott snorts. Please hurry. And pray he doesn’t murder me too

On my way

* * * *

When Eliott rushes into the restaurant, harried, perhaps a little sweaty, and eight minutes late, it’s to a sight he didn’t foresee. While he hadn’t actually expected Lucas and Anna to be in the midst of an all-out brawl, the picture before him seems just as impossible.

Anna and Lucas are sat across from one another at a table for six – not just sat across from one another but leaning towards one another. They’ve both got their forearms pressed to the table as they speak, heads bent forward and together in body language that would suggest… well, a date, if Eliott didn’t know better. Anna is smiling as she speaks, waving a hand in gesture through the air as Lucas listens. And even more shockingly, there’s a slight smile on Lucas’s face, begrudging maybe, but present all the same. He’s nodding as Eliott approaches.

Anna cuts herself off as she sees Eliott. “Oh, well, look who decided to show.”

Eliott smiles with a bashful shrug. “I’m not the only one who’s late.” He nods towards the empty chair beside Anna.

“Yeah,” Anna agrees. “But my boyfriend warned me he’d be late. What about you?” She raises her eyebrow like she knows the answer. She likely does.

“I didn’t think I’d be late,” Eliott says, adding a bit of a pout in fruitless hope of garnering some sympathy. He slips off his coat and folds it across the back of his chair. Taking the seat next to Lucas, he directs pitiful eyes his boyfriend’s way. “I planned to be on time.”

Lucas snorts, looking back to Anna. “Probably convinced himself Daisy didn’t want him to leave and spent an extra ten minutes cuddling her. That or he lost track of time doing his hair.” Eliott cannot admit that Lucas is right.

Anna laughs. “That sounds likely. Always was too nice and pretty for his own good.” Eliott winces, looking to Lucas in preparation for his boyfriend’s irritation with Anna for acknowledging any positive attributes in Eliott. But Lucas is… laughing? Eliott stares agape as his boyfriend speaks, his voice relaxed and amused.

“It’s a deadly combo really, but I guess you know. Yann’s so nice sometimes it actually pisses me off.”

“Oh lord, tell me about it,” Anna expels in a dramatic breath. “We’re walking the other day,” she leans forward as she begins her story and Lucas mirrors her position, “and he sees this old lady struggling with her grocery bags –”

“Oh god,” Lucas groans as though he’s already guessed where this story is going.

Anna nods in agreement with the unspoken assumption. “He insists on helping her. Not just organize her bags – oh no, no – we have to walk her home. The lady lived, like, three blocks in the opposite direction we were going.”

Lucas laughs. “Shit. That sounds just like him.”

Eliott doesn’t understand why they’re sharing this anecdote as though it were a bad thing. “But that’s nice,” he protests with a frown. “What if she couldn’t have made it on her own?”

Lucas looks to him with a dramatic roll of his eyes, glancing back at Anna. “So now you know I literally feel your pain.”

Anna giggles. “For real. And it’s not like I wanted the lady to struggle or something. I would have helped her get organized and sent her on her merry way.”

“Totally practical,” Lucas agrees with a resolute nod.

“And we’re not at the beginning of dating,” Anna continues. “Like the kid doesn’t need to impress me, anymore. Believe me, I’m impressed.” She adds a suggestive raise of her eyebrows and Lucas laughs. “Nah, he just does this stuff out of the goodness of his heart.” She says it as though this is a miraculous – and perhaps ridiculous – quality for a man to possess.

“A freak of nature,” Lucas agrees with a shake of his head. “Should’a seen teen-me trying to get over his ass when he insisted on being such a nice guy.”

“The nerve,” Anna laughs. “He could have at least been gay if he was going to insist on being nice to you.”

“All I’m saying,” Lucas agrees with a laugh of his own.

Eliott’s gaze swings between them both, incredulous. “You told Anna you crushed on Yann?” He and Lucas have barely even discussed that. Though perhaps that’s due to Eliott’s desire to forget entirely that Lucas has ever been attracted to other men – celebrities they are unlikely to ever meet being the only exception.

Lucas glances at him quickly with a shrug, before directing his attention back to Anna. “I ever tell you about the time we were in the locker room and he changed extra slow so I could have a look?” Eliott frowns.

“Shut up!” Anna laughs. “He would.”

Eliott watches as Lucas goes about retelling the story to Anna’s delight. He should be glad they’re getting along. And he is – don’t get him wrong, he is. It’s all he and Yann have wanted. But there’s a niggling feeling like disappointment sitting in his gut too, and Eliott can’t totally explain it. Or perhaps he can. He knows what it is. It just feels too ridiculous to acknowledge out loud – even if ‘out loud’ means ‘inside the privacy of his own mind’.

It’s only that… he likes the way Lucas gets all huffy and possessive when Anna’s name comes up. And no, Eliott doesn’t want a relationship of mistrust and jealousy. But he and Lucas aren’t like that. Not normally. They love one another. They trust in their relationship and one another. But… well… sometimes it’s fun to want one another so badly, they can’t help but behave like the occasional jealous moron when it comes to others. And sometimes it’s even more fun to work out that pent up frustration in other – less public-restaurant appropriate – ways.

And yes, Eliott will agree, he’s definitely an idiot. He needs no convincing where that is concerned.

He sighs and tunes back in just as Lucas is saying, “Fuck. A whole four minutes. Consider yourself lucky.”

Eliott narrows his eyes suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

Lucas looks over to him, his eyes reflecting challenge. “You’re sitting right here. Shouldn’t you know?”

“He was ignoring us,” Anna jumps in to comment. “We should probably be insulted.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees with a smile as he continues to look at Eliott. “But he probably just got lost in imagining me naked. It happens.”

Eliott is torn between being insulted and, well… actually picturing Lucas naked. It’s not his fault! Lucas put the thought right there. “You don’t need to speak of me in third person when I’m literally right here.”

Lucas grins, bringing a hand up to brushing fingers along the shell of Eliott’s ear. “Are you though, baby?” Baby. Lucas so rarely uses that term of endearment, it still hits Eliott like a ton of bricks every time he does. He’s thankfully saved in having to respond by Yann’s appearance.

“There’s my man,” Anna squeals when she sees him, standing up as he approaches the table.

Yann’s eyes widen at the sight of her. He looks at her as though they haven’t been seriously committed to one another for over five months now. It’s incredibly sweet. “Damn,” Yann crows, reaching around Anna’s back to pull her closer as he kisses her in greeting. “You sure you’re with the right guy?”

“How’s that?” She asks with a laugh, winding her arms around his neck as she leans back with a vibrant smile.

“No way a woman this beautiful gives me the time of day,” Yann continues, moving a hand to brush against the riot of natural curls framing Anna’s face.

“Must be something pretty special about you then,” Anna banters back.

“Alright,” Lucas interrupts loudly. “That’s enough of you two being disgusting. Take a seat, Cazas.”

Yann laughs and with one more kiss pressed to Anna’s cheek, he moves to do as asked.

“At least someone got a proper hello,” Eliott grumbles beneath his breath, but admittedly, loud enough for Lucas to hear.

Lucas turns to him, one eyebrow raised. “Something to say, average?”

Eliott’s eyes narrow and he sits back in his chair with a huff that maybe wouldn’t be out of place in a primary school classroom. “No.”

“So,” Yann says, looking between Anna and Lucas, “you two are getting along then?”

Anna laughs while Lucas scoffs and answers. “You’re not supposed to just ask like that. Have I taught you nothing about how to avoid situations until they blow up in your face, Yanny boy?” Yann joins Anna in her laughter and Eliott can’t help the way his mouth twitches at the corners into the beginnings of a smile. “Now, we’re gonna have to go back to pretending to hate one another.”

“Is that what we were doing?” Anna asks, her smile bright. “Here I thought there was some authenticity to that hate.”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah. But look where that gets me.” He directs a thumb in Eliott’s direction.

“You never hated me,” Eliott protests, forgetting he’s supposed to be pouting in the face of such fallacious slander. It’s to no avail, however, as the others are too taken with one another to give him any attention.

“Well, I can at least promise I won’t follow you around trying to dry-hump you like I’m sure he did,” Anna says with a laugh as she settles back in her seat with Yann’s arm resting around her shoulders.

“I didn’t,” Eliott says, sitting up slightly from his chair, feeling a lot like he’s talking into a void.

“We kinda skipped the dry-hump stage,” Lucas says with a smile, not even glancing at Eliott as he speaks. “Went right to getting his dick in my mouth if I’m honest.”

Anna laughs, looking quickly with a smile to Yann before she responds. “Well… same, so, I guess I can’t judge.” Lucas and Yann laugh.

“I’ll drink to that.” Lucas lifts his wine glass.

Anna does the same, clinking glasses with Lucas. “To dicks in our mouths!”

With truly impeccable timing, Manon and Idriss take that moment to appear.

“Uh,” Idriss grimaces at he looks down on them. “Did I miss when that became a toast?”

Manon laughs. “I dunno. Has a certain ring to it I’d say.” It leads to a new round of laughter that even Eliott – determined as he is to sulk – is helpless against.

They all settle at the table and into conversation, and eventually, when their waiter appears looking impressively bored, food too. It’s a truly pleasant evening, as Eliott and Yann knew it would be once Lucas and Anna finally relaxed around one another. Laughter comes easily and it really would be the perfect night out if not for the way Lucas is barely paying attention to Eliott. It’s not that Eliott needs his hand held at all times – not even that he needs Lucas’s focus on him, but he can’t help but feel a little like he’s being intentionally ignored. Lucas is all laughter and smiles for everyone but him. He’s being his most charming self, effusive, witty, and interesting, but it’s missing a dynamic Eliott hadn’t realized he’d gotten so used to. The shared smiles and the quick glances of understanding, that silent acknowledgement of one another in the form of subtle touches or lingering eye contact, the inside jokes and comments directed only at one another… it’s all just… absent. Eliott isn’t about to make a monumental ‘the world and our relationship as we know it are ending’ deal over it, but what he is going to do is mope. And loudly… or as loudly as one can without actually speaking at all.

Idriss’s hits the side of Eliott’s leg just as everyone are finishing up their main courses. He waits until Eliott glances at him before he speaks in a quiet enough voice that it’s almost lost in the riotous conversation happening across the rest of the table.

“What’s up with you pouting all meal, bro?”

Eliott’s frown deepens. “I’m not.”

Idriss’s expels a disbelieving breath. “Right.” He glances past Eliott towards Lucas before asking, “You two fight or something?”

Eliott shakes his head, sighing as he glances towards Lucas who sports a bright smile as he chats with Yann and Anna. He feels like a dick for being upset when Lucas is clearly having a great time – when that is all Eliott wanted. He’s just… a mess.

“No.” He turns back to Idriss, not bothering to school his unhappy expression. “We’re fine actually.”

Idriss’s eyebrows pull together with concern. “You wanna take a breather?” He juts his chin towards the exterior of the restaurant. “I’ll come with.”

“That’s a good idea,” Manon interrupts, having rounded from her side of the table to wrap arms around Idriss’s neck from behind. She presses a kiss to his cheek. “I was going to go freshen up in the bathroom. Maybe you should do the same, Eliott.”

He stares at her in confusion before grabbing for his napkin, horrified, and pressing it about his mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Bro, I would have told you,” Idriss laughs. Eliott doesn’t actually agree with that statement. Once, Idriss had let him approach a hot guy at bar with the tail end of his shirt hanging through his open fly like a very tiny, white dick. But he generously doesn’t mention that memory – not particularly wanting to relive the humiliation himself.

“Nothing like that,” Manon says, brushing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I only meant you might feel a little better if you had a chance to splash some water on your face. That always helps me.”

Her suggestion is still incredibly odd and feels just a little out of place, but Eliott shrugs, figuring its better than continuing to sit and sulk at the table. It also occurs to him that perhaps she wants to speak to him away from the table – maybe there’s an issue with her and Idriss? – and while the last thing he wants to do is take on the worries of another couple, it would be the very least he could do considering the many ways Idriss and Manon have been there for Lucas and Eliott.

“Alright.” He stands from the table, glancing towards Lucas but his boyfriend doesn’t pay him any mind, steadfastly continuing the retelling of a story to Anna. He’s talking about a recent article he read about the removal of an enormous tapeworm from a surgical patient. He’d already excitedly told Eliott about it as they’d laid together in bed one evening reading. It’s the least dinner appropriate story Eliott can imagine. He loves that Lucas isn’t the least bit concerned by that, continuing in his graphic retelling as Anna’s face transforms with more and more disgust. It makes Eliott smile, perhaps a little sadly, as he turns to accompany Manon to the restaurant’s bathrooms.

Manon doesn’t speak as they begin walking, a serene smile on her face.

“Are you and Idriss ok?” Eliott asks, more bluntly than he ever would normally but he doesn’t quite have the energy to be anything but. And it’s not like a very short walk to the bathrooms allows for any subtly.

Manon looks to him in surprise. “Yes. We’re great. Why do you ask?”

Eliott gestures around them as they walk. “Thought you wanted to get me alone to talk shit about him maybe.”

Manon laughs lightly. “No. Nothing like that. I’d say we’re still very much in the honeymoon stage.”

Eliott smiles a little. “I’m glad.”

They pause awkwardly outside the bathrooms and she turns back to him with a mischievous smile. “I suppose it is a bit annoying that I can’t ever save leftovers. He eats them all.”

Eliott laughs. “I know. You can’t even hide them. Once I tried the back of the freezer and –”

“Me too!” She cuts him off with a laugh. “I saved the rest of this amazing chocolate cake I couldn’t finish at the restaurant. I tucked it under the frozen Brussel sprouts, and I was sure he wouldn’t find it but –”

“He did,” Eliott finishes for her. “Yeah. Been there. No delicious food is safe from Idriss.”

“He said anyone who didn’t finish dessert deserved to have their leftovers eaten,” she finishes with a snort, affection dripping from her every word.

“Eh. He might not be wrong there.” Eliott laughs as Manon swats at him.

“Well, you live with Lucas who will absolutely eat you out of house and home, so I won’t feel too sorry for myself,” she says as Eliott snorts in agreement. “Anyways, I’m going to go freshen up. You should do the same. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Eliott isn’t so convinced but he does as told. He pees and washes his hands, leaning against the counter as he stares at himself in the mirror. There’s no one else in the communal bathroom, and he takes a moment to feel sorry for himself. It’s silly to work up such a fuss over the loss of attention of one’s boyfriend for the finite duration of a meal, but it’s such a rare occurrence to not have Lucas’s attention, Eliott isn’t quite sure what to do with this needy feeling gnawing at his gut.

He turns the tap on for the cold water and leans down to splash it on his face, listening as the door to the bathroom opens behind him. That’s just great. Now some random person is going to know him as the weirdo who washes his face in the restaurant bathroom. Eliott quickly straightens and reaches for the stack of paper towels on the counter. He pats his face dry before he dares to look up into the mirror’s reflection to see if the newcomer has given him any notice. He stops short when he sees the face staring back.

Lucas.

Eliott turns around, reaching to throw away the paper towels before he looks back to Lucas in question.

“Need to pee?” He asks somewhat stupidly, feeling strangely insecure and maybe a little out of sorts.

“Remember the first night we met?” Lucas asks instead of answering.

Eliott’s eyebrows fly up in surprise. As if he could ever forget. “Yes. Of course.”

Lucas approaches him slowly, stopping when they’re separated by a meter of space. “You followed me into the bathroom then.” He smiles a little, looking away as he gets lots in the memory. “So fucking smooth I didn’t know what the hell to make of you.”

Eliott laughs a little, his smile widening as Lucas looks back to him. “I really wasn’t. I was seriously freaking out actually. But…” He shrugs, “felt important you thought I was smooth.”

Lucas tilts his head as he looks at Eliott, small smile decorating his lips. “Offering up a blowjob was pretty smooth.”

Eliott shrugs, unashamed and unabashed. “You can’t blame me. Look at you.”

Lucas steps closer, stopping when they’re separated only by the width of a stretched hand. “Sure I can.” He says it softly, tilting his head back as he looks at Eliott. It sounds a lot like he means something else – like kiss me should be in place of the words he’s spoken. But despite the very real need Eliott feels to meet this silent demand, he can’t quite let go of his former sulk.

“You’ve been ignoring me all night.”

Lucas doesn’t look particularly surprised by this complaint, his eyes just barely registering acknowledgement. “I have.” It sounds more like a statement than a question.

“Yes,” Eliott confirms unnecessarily. “Laughing with everyone. Talking. Being all… cute and funny. But not to me.”

Lucas’s eyebrows rise and his smile pulls into a bit of a smirk. “And you think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Eliott frowns. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Lucas breathes a slight laugh. “Exactly. Sitting there pouting because I wasn’t giving you any attention.”

Eliott can’t exactly argue with that. “Well… so? You’d be the same if I was ignoring you.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees easily with a shrug. “Probably.”

“So then why?” Eliott asks, staring at him in confusion.

Lucas licks his lips, and Eliott notices there’s a flush to his cheeks that wasn’t there previously. “I can’t look at you when I’m like this. I can’t talk to you – feel your eyes on me like this.”

Eliott’s mouth parts as he stares down at Lucas. “Like this? Like what?”

Lucas looks around them, glancing to the empty stalls before he takes hold of Eliott’s shirt, spinning them so his back is to the mirror. He reaches for the button on his own pants.

“Lucas,” Eliott warns in a hushed whisper, glancing quickly to the surrounding bathroom though he knows it’s empty, “we can’t. Anyone could come in.”

“I know.” Lucas doesn’t look at all deterred. He unzips his pants and reaches for Eliott’s hand.

Eliott is helpless to stop him, so desperate to get his hands on Lucas, every patron in the restaurant could walk in on them and Eliott would probably only shrug. Lucas doesn’t pull the hand to the front of his pants as Eliott was expecting, however, and Eliott’s eyebrows fly up in surprise as Lucas instead presses Eliott’s hand to the back of his pants, pushing it down against his heated skin.

Eliott steps closer, pressing their bodies together with a shudder as he gropes at Lucas’s ass. “Baby…”

“Lower,” Lucas directs, his breath now coming in quick pants.

Eliott does as told, knowing their time alone in the bathroom is precarious and undetermined, and having no idea what it is Lucas has planned. He slides his hand lower, fingers seeking until they reach the area on Lucas’s body he’s come to know so well – that he’s worshiped with his fingers… his tongue… his cock. Only… he freezes… this is not at all what he expected.

“Lucas…” He sounds awed which is only appropriate. His fingers prod at the hard, circular shape blocking Lucas’s hole from his prying fingers.

“Can’t look at you when I know,” Lucas pants, his words a rush of breath as Eliott’s fingers continue to feel out the butt plug Eliott now realizes Lucas has had inside him the entire evening. “Can’t talk to you, touch you, without thinking about it.”

“What?” Eliott prompts, so turned on he feels dizzy with it. He gets his fingers around the rim of the plug and tugs, watching as Lucas gasps loudly, falling forward to press hands against Eliott’s chest.

“You,” Lucas pants, looking up at Eliott with dark eyes. “You inside me. Knowing –” He chokes on a breath as Eliott’s fingers continue to prod at the plug. “Knowing I’m ready for you – stretched for you – for your cock.”

“Lu, baby –” Eliott doesn’t get a chance to finish his thought when Lucas is grabbing his forearm and pulling his arm away, removing Eliott’s hand from his pants. “But…” Eliott trails off desperately, watching with disbelieving, confused eyes as Lucas goes about refastening his pants. His dark jeans bulge a little at the front, but he looks otherwise just as put together as he had when he’d entered the bathroom.

Lucas looks back up and bites his bottom lip. Eliott needs to kiss him and is only stopped by the firm hand Lucas presses to his chest when he realizes Eliott’s intent. “We’ve got a dinner with our friends to finish,” Lucas points out. Eliott is satisfied to see his breath remains unsteady and affected. Eliott has never been less interested in socializing with the people he loves more than right fucking now. “Was your idea after all.” Lucas smirks and Eliott can’t do anything but stare at him with renewed awe.

“You’re…” He can’t even finish the thought. Lucas has done it to torture him. He’s… diabolical. The most cheeky… clever… teasing brat on the planet. Eliott loves him so goddamn much.

Lucas smiles, as smug as anything. “Now c’mon. We wait any longer they’re gonna think we’re hooking up in here.” With that he spins on his heel and makes his way to the bathroom door.

Eliott stares down at his own pants, more formal than Lucas’s and more clearly showing the shape of his erection stretching the front of the fabric. He sighs, untucking the ends of his shirt and letting them hand down his front. He’ll look a bit like a slob but better that than a horny pervert with a dick so hard it could be registered as a weapon. He buys himself an extra moment to compose himself as he washes his hands once more, but it does nothing to help the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

Lucas is smirking as Eliott turns to him, his eyes skating down to where Eliott’s shirt hangs loose before rising to catch his eyes. He looks… proud. That’s the look reflected in the deep blue of his eyes. And all at once, Eliott feels… settled… calmer and more at peace than he has all evening.

Lucas wants him. Badly. Eliott wants him back. Just as desperately as he ever has.

All is right in their world.

* * * *

They’ve been at the party for a grand total of maybe ten minutes and Eliott is going to lose his goddamn mind. He’s convinced Lucas is being especially hot for the sole purpose of driving Eliott to the brink of total madness.

Lucas stands across the room in conversation with Alex. He’s rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and his tattoo stands out, bright and colourful in the twinkly lights hanging down the wall of the living room. Alex laughs at something Lucas has said, moving a hand to clasp the spot Eliott had admired on Lucas earlier – that space where Lucas’s neck and shoulder meet. Eliott twitches.

“Are you planning on listening at any point in this conversation or should I leave you to your staring contest with Lucas?”

Eliott looks quickly back to where not just Imane, but Mika stare at him with identical expressions of judgement. He adopts an appropriately apologetic expression. “Sorry, sorry. I was just –”

“Ignoring us in favour of staring at your boy,” Mika finishes for him. “We know.” He turns to look at Imane. “Don’t feel bad about it. This is my life at the hospital.”

“I can only imagine,” Imane laughs. “Supervising these two is a challenge I would not trade you for.”

“It’s not,” Eliott interrupts to disagree. “We’re totally professional when we’re at work.” It’s most certainly a lie, and all three of them know it.

“Mmhmm,” Mika hums with an eyebrow raised. “And last week when you both showed up to rounds, sweaty and out of breath? You expect me to believe you hadn’t just been fucking in an on-call room?” They hadn’t actually. On that particular occasional they had been rushed and nearly late because they’d spent the morning fucking at home.

Eliott smiles smugly. “We hadn’t been. Because: professional.” Mika rolls his eyes and Eliott turns his attention back to Imane. “Besides, it’s not a staring contest.”

“Oh no?” She questions, looking amused.

“No. He’d have to be looking back for it to be a staring contest.” Eliott eyes return to Lucas to see that he and Alex have been joined by Emma. She hangs off Alex looking like she’s been happily partaking in the plentiful alcoholic options the apartment has to offer.

“Well, if there’s one thing I know for absolute certain,” Imane says, her hand landing on Eliott’s shoulder as she too turns to look Lucas’s direction. “You’re not going to have to wait long for him to look back.”

* * * *

Eliott mingles among the guests, making pleasant conversation but the buzz beneath his skin doesn’t fade. It’s matched by the buzz of party guests as the clock approaches midnight.

Eliott admires Lucas in the room through his various conversations, but at one point, deep into a conversation with Imane and Sofiane, Eliott looses sight of him among the guests.

“I think the way the show blends philosophical theory with real world problems and does it in this way that’s just really, really funny is what captured my attention most,” Imane is saying. Eliott nods as he listens, subtly scanning the faces behind her for any sign of his disappearing boyfriend.

“And yet it took me forever to convince you to watch,” Sofiane says with a laugh.

“I don’t like sitcoms,” she defends with a smile. “How was I supposed to know it was brilliant?”

“Because I told you?” Sofiane asks incredulously. Eliott laughs along with Imane as his attention returns to the couple. “Admit it,” Sofiane prompts, “you only agreed to watch when Lucas told you to.”

“What can I say?” Imane says, her tone teasing. “I value his taste.”

“Careful in insulting my taste,” Sofiane challenges, pulling Imane closer with an arm wrapped around her waist. “That includes you.”

“Oh, where I’m concerned, your taste is impeccable,” she responds with a grin. “In television, I defer to Lucas.”

Eliott laughs a little. “You really shouldn’t. Lucas’s taste in TV is a strange and confusing thing.” Both Imane and Sofiane laugh as Eliott adds, “And he only watched The Good Place because of me.” Maybe he’s a little proud of that fact.

“Have you gotten to that part when –” Sofiane is immediately cut off by Imane smacking a hand against his chest. And while Sofiane’s sentence didn’t give away a thing, she seems to know where his sentence was headed anyways.

“No! You’ll spoil them like you did me! They’ve only just started the third season.”

Eliott frowns. “We’re just at the end of the second season actually. Besides I’ve seen the whole show. It’s only Lucas you could spoil.”

Imane looks to him with furrowed eyebrows. “Lucas said he’s already watched a couple episodes from season three.”

Eliott gasps, almost choking on his outraged breath. “He what?!”

Imane looks faintly apologetic while Sofiane only looks confused. “What am I missing?” He asks.

“Lucas watched without me,” Eliott answers. “I cannot believe…”

“Didn’t you just say you’ve already seen it?” Imane asks, looking like she’s one breath from a full-body laugh.

“That’s not the point!” Eliott argues. “That little brat knows it too. Oh, I’m going to…” He can’t finish his sentence. The unspeakable things he wants to do to Lucas in punishment not at all appropriate for the ears of his friends. He quickly scans the room once more and this time there are eyes looking back. Lucas. And he’s finally looking back.

He stands just at the edge of the room, leaning against the corner of the wall. He’s with no one else and he’s staring at Eliott with intent. He raises an eyebrow, biting his lower lip and turns, moving into the shadows of the hallway. Eliott just barely remembers to turn back to Imane and Sofiane, offering a pithy excuse they no doubt see right through, both of their faces reflecting barely restrained laughter.

Eliott hurries across the room, thankful that his desperate chase of Lucas is somewhat masked by how crowded the space is, filled with friends, hospital staff, and any number of faces Eliott has never seen before in his life. When he reaches the hall, he finds Lucas standing next to what had once been Eliott’s bedroom door. Eliott approaches cautiously, hyper aware of the other people crowding the hallway as they wait for access to the one bathroom.

“Took you long enough,” Lucas says and reaches for the door handle.

Eliott grabs his hand before he opens it. “Lucas,” he warns, “it’s not my room anymore.” He doesn’t know why he bothers to object. He’d follow Lucas anywhere.

Lucas smirks. “That gonna stop you?”

Eliott stares at him, eyes dropping to the smug curl of Lucas’s lips. “Fuck no.” He reaches for the doorknob himself, twisting it and pushing Lucas into the space as someone in line behind them says something about the room being off limits. Eliott ignores them, following Lucas in and locking the door behind them. He reaches for the light switch, flicking it on to illuminate the space in a dim glow.

Lucille and Alex made good on their desire to turn the room into a home gym of sorts. The equipment is lacking but it’s been clearly split between Lucille’s space, filled with a yoga mat, a number of foam blocks, exercise bands and weights, and Alex’s space, which consists of a weight bench and a selection of heavier weights.

Eliott couldn’t care less. The only thing that matters is Lucas, standing at the center of the space, his chest rising and falling with his unsteady breaths, beautiful, and looking at Eliott like this is all he’s wanted too – the both of them – only them – together. Finally.

Eliott would swear the force of their impact as they reach for one another shakes the room. He wraps Lucas in his arms as they kiss, squeezing him tightly as he presses his tongue into Lucas’s mouth, matching the frenzy of his hands moving across Lucas’s body with that of his tongue. He slides a hand down until it reaches Lucas’s ass, squeezing one round cheek before drifting further, sliding down the seam of his pants until he can press fingers against the spot he knows the plug is buried deep inside Lucas’s body.

Lucas rips his mouth away with an animalistic sound when Eliott does so, throwing his head back as he grinds his body forward and into Eliott.

“God,” Eliott groans as he watches him. “You drive me crazy.”

“Eliott, Eliott,” Lucas gasps, pushing Eliott’s hands away from him until he’s able to reach for his own clothing. “Now, now,” he chants nonsensically. “Off. Get them off.” What he means is clear enough in the way he’s ridding himself of his own clothes, almost ripping the buttons of his shirt as frantically goes about removing it.

Eliott doesn’t needs to be directed further, quickly stripping himself of every item of clothing and watching as Lucas wobbles unsteadily as he kicks off his pants. Lucas’s erection stands proud, jutting hard and red from his body. It makes Eliott feel a bit better about the state of his own dick, throbbing so badly he knows they’re in no danger of being in the room long enough to be discovered. He feels ready to burst at the simple feel of Lucas’s eyes on him.

“On the bench.”

Lucas’s eyebrows rise in question before he looks beside him to where Alex’s weight bench rests. There’s a slight slant to Lucas’s smile as he glances back to Eliott. “You think you can tell me what to do?”

Oh god. If Lucas really thinks tonight is the night to continue being a sassy, teasing, little shit, he’s got another thing coming.

“Yes.” Eliott’s voice has dropped a couple octaves without conscious intent and he sees Lucas shiver at the sound. “Now. On your back.”

Lucas swallows heavily but does as told, sitting down on the bench first and releasing a surprised gasp. He’d done that at the dinner table too when they’d arrived back after using the bathroom. He’d gasped, just a little, as he’d sat down, squirming slightly until he’d apparently found a position – an angle – that had satisfied him, and he’d rejoined conversation. No one had noticed but Eliott, and the knowledge had filled his body with a growing heat that had settled into a smolder in his balls. That they had made it through the rest of the dinner without Eliott mounting him in the middle of the restaurant, directly on the table, had felt like an accomplishment in itself.

Lucas rolls down onto his back, blinking up at Eliott with wide and expectant eyes. Eliott approaches slowly, eyes tracking down Lucas’s body until he reaches his feet, pressed to the bench.

“Bend your knees. Back to your chest.”

He sees the way Lucas inhales – the way he pauses before obeying, no doubt torn between his constant need to challenge Eliott, and his more overwhelming desire to listen… to let Eliott give him what he wants. His eyes war until in the end, he does as told, bending his knees back to his chest and revealing the end of the plug tucked up inside him. Eliott inhales sharply at the sight, pressing a hand against the back of Lucas’s thigh to spread him further. Eliott rests a knee against the bench and moves a hand to the plug, pressing his thumb down onto the circular end. It’s blue – sparkly and blue.

“Eliott. Fuck.”

Eliott looks up to see Lucas’s eyes squeezed shut. He’s raised his arms above his head and holds tight to the other end of the bench.

“Feel good?” Eliott asks, pressing against the plug once more.

“God,” Lucas groans, hazy eyes blinking open to stare down at Eliott. “Yes.” He sucks in a breath before speaking once more, his voice demanding. “Now get it out of me and fuck me already.” It’s the sort of demand Eliott is happy to obey.

Eliott grips the edges of the plug and tugs gently, watching the way the flared end stretches Lucas’s hole. His muscles clench as though attempting to hold onto the silicone shape as it leaves his body, tightening again when he’s left empty. Eliott moves a thumb to his rim, slick with the remnants of lube.

“Eliott.” Lucas’s leg lashes out, catching Eliott in the shoulder.

Eliott stumbles back slightly on his heels, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as he looks up at Lucas. “Impatient?”

“This is supposed to be a quicky,” Lucas pants, doing his best to look annoyed though the sweaty flush to his face robs him of the composure he seeks. “Put it in me.”

“It?” Eliott grins, holding up the butt plug, shiny and gleaming in the bedroom light. “This? Or me?”

The colour in Lucas’s cheeks deepens to an even more impressive red, just as Eliott expected it to. “God. Just… you. Put that down. Get inside me.” Lucas bends his knees back towards his chest, spreading his legs while he does so and Eliott feels a measure of his self control slip. He swallows.

“Yeah. Yeah, I – lube?”

Lucas shakes his head. “I’m fine. I lubed up before. Just fuck me already.”

And Eliott would like to – and he plans to but… this is the first time they’ve done it like this and he’s not taking any chances. “Lucas. Tell me you brought lube.”

Lucas huffs, looking irritated but resigned. “Fine,” he groans. “Pants pocket.”

Eliott grins and rushes to find it, pulling out the small tube but pausing before slicking himself up. He looks back to Lucas in question. “Bare?”

Lucas nods. “Yeah. C’mon. Hurry.”

“But…” Eliott moves towards him, unsure. “It’ll be messy after. Not like we’re at home.”

Lucas shakes his head, looking suddenly just a little shy. “No, it won’t.” He directs his eyes to where Eliott had placed the plug, propped beside their clothing. The meaning behind his words sinks into Eliott’s slowly, and with heady awareness he looks back to his boyfriend spread before him on the bench. “Yeah,” Lucas whispers as though Eliott had spoken a question out loud. “Yeah. Now.”

Eliott’s hands shake as he coats his erection with lube. He wipes the remnants on his own thighs as he reaches for Lucas, sliding him until his ass reaches the end of the bench. Lucas allows the manhandling, holding the back of his own thighs to spread himself further.

“Baby,” Eliott whispers overwhelmed as he takes hold of his erection and leans down with his other hand steadying himself above Lucas’s head on the bench.

“Yeah,” Lucas groans as the blunt head of Eliott’s cock presses into him. “Fuck. Yeah.”

Eliott removes his hand from his erection as he sinks deeper, clasping it to the side of Lucas’s ribcage instead as he breathes through the incredible feeling of sinking into the tight heat of Lucas’s body. He’ll never get used to this feeling – the physical sensation of being inside Lucas without a barrier matched with the extraordinary knowledge of what it means to get to do so, the incredible trust Lucas shows in allowing him this privilege.

Lucas’s hands move to Eliott’s chest, scratching lightly as he moans. “Move. Fucking move.”

Eliott chuckles lightly. “I will. But baby?” He struggles to speak, his voice strained and words clipped.

“What?” Lucas gasps, squirming beneath him as though he could force Eliott deeper. “Fucking – what?!”

“Need you to co – come for me ok?”

Lucas releases a breath like a laugh. “Yeah. Was planning to.”

“No.” Eliott waits until Lucas’s eyes focus on him. “Fast. Need you to come fast because I’m gonna –”

Lucas nods, jerky and a little frantic now. “Yeah, I – I will. Please, Eli. Please.”

Eliott inhales a deep breath, searching for control as he pulls his cock from Lucas’s body. It shouldn’t be this good already – when they’ve barely even begun. Somehow, it always is. Somehow, every time Eliott is inside Lucas it feels as overwhelming – as fucking good – as it did the first time. He slams back in. They both grunt with the impact and Lucas throws his head back, his nails biting into Eliott’s shoulders.

Eliott doesn’t bother with a building rhythm, making it hard and fast from the very first stroke. It’s what they both need and there’s sense in pretending otherwise. Eliott presses his body down against Lucas and barely pulls out, pounding up into him with a force that would have Lucas’s body pushed up and off the bench if not for the way Eliott’s weight holds him down.

Lucas can barely squeeze a hand between them, but he manages, reaching to wrap it around the head of his own erection as he shudders with each thrust of Eliott’s cock inside him. When his eyes open and fix on Eliott, there’s a need in them Eliott knows just how to meet. He leans down, pressing lips against Lucas’s ear as he continues his relentless pace driving into Lucas’s body. His own orgasm is licking at his balls, just on the precipice of exploding, but he holds it back, determined to give Lucas this first. His voice.

“That’s it, baby,” Eliott encourages. “My boy. Beautiful boy. Come for me. Lu.” He presses a kiss to Lucas’s temple as he feels his control begin to slip. “Love you. Fuck. Love you.” Lucas makes a low sound, and his body seizes with his orgasm, coming apart as he shakes in Eliott’s arms.

Eliott’s body reads it as a signal, and he groans loudly, falling down onto Lucas as his orgasm washes through him. He drives his cock up into Lucas’s body in a series of rapid bursts as he rides out the wave, gasping for air as the pleasure releases its strangle hold on his lungs.

He lays against Lucas, face tilted down against Lucas’s chest as he feels the rise and fall of the chest beneath him. When he finds the strength to press himself up it’s the sight of Lucas, sweaty and red, and looking so incredibly well fucked and content, one would think they’d been at it all night versus the… well, Eliott doesn’t want to admit exactly how pathetic both of their stamina was in this case. Though there is a certain level of pride that comes with knowing Lucas was just as hopeless.

Lucas licks his lips as he stares up at Eliott. “You should put it back in.” His voice is low and husky with satisfaction. Eliott looks at him in confusion, glancing down to where he hasn’t yet parted their bodies and his cock remains, buried inside Lucas’s body. “The plug,” Lucas says, reading Eliott’s confusion. “You should put it back in.”

Eliott’s eyes snap shut and he groans as his cock jerks inside Lucas, making one last valiant effort to fill Lucas even further with evidence of him. “Oh god.”

Lucas squirms beneath him. “Eliott. Do it.”

Eliott nods. “Ok.” He inhales sharply as he pulls his spent cock from Lucas’s body. He reaches for the plug, pressing the tip against the dribble of come that’s already begun leaking from Lucas’s body, moving it until the tip becomes shiny with come. He stares mesmerized by the sight.

“Eliott. Fuck!” Lucas reaches to grab the plug from his hands and shoves it into his body without ceremony, inhaling around a gasp as he does so.

Eliott’s lower lip juts out in a pout. “I would have done it.”

Lucas snorts as he sits up on the bench. “Sure.” He grimaces as he stands, squirming slightly as he gets used to the feeling of it back inside him.

“Is it ok?” Eliott asks. “If it’s uncomfortable – if it hurts – we can take it out.”

“No,” Lucas answers immediately with a shake of his head as he goes about collecting his clothes. He reaches for a roll of paper towels at the side of the room, quickly cleaning the evidence of his own orgasm from his stomach, before he tosses the roll to Eliott. “Just feels a little strange.” He begins to put on his underwear and pants and Eliott moves to do the same, after a cursory cleaning of the bench and himself.

“It feels… wetter.”

Eliott freezes in the midst of buttoning back up his shirt. He looks back at Lucas to see he’s struggling to do the same. And it’s just… the reality of what they’ve done slams into Eliott a little like a second orgasm, the wave of euphoria so instant, he’s a bit lightheaded with it. “I came inside you.”

Lucas glances up, having just finished buttoning his shirt. “Yeah?”

Eliott swallows heavily, removing his hands from the buttons of his own shirt when Lucas steps forward to finish the job. “It’s – it’s like I still am. Inside you.”

Lucas doesn’t look up, studiously fastening the last of the buttons of Eliott’s shirt but he nods. “Feels that way too. It’s like – I can feel you.”

��Lucas,” Eliott breathes and reaching for Lucas’s face, tilting it up until he can press their lips together. They both sink into a soft kiss, enjoying the taste of one another’s mouths without the frenzy of their former need driving every movement. Lucas pushes him back after a moment with a soft smile.

“Come on. Probably near midnight by now.”

If Eliott’s honest, he’d forgotten about the celebration of the New Year entirely. He’s almost a little sad they didn’t time it so he was inside Lucas as the clock struck twelve – just as Lucas had originally suggested.

They attract a few curious glances as they leave the room, and at least a few giggles, but thankfully the hallway is filled with no one Eliott immediately recognizes.

“Where you two been?” Arthur asks as they re-enter the living room. Despite the question, his expression suggests he already knows. “You almost missed it,” he continues, voice raised to be heard over the din of rising noise in the room. “Minute to go!” He adds. Eliott smiles. He supposes, in the end, he and Lucas did time that quite well.

Lucas is suddenly tugging at his hand, pulling him towards the front door of the apartment.

“Lucas?” Eliott questions but follows. “What are you doing?”

Lucas looks back at him with a wide grin, his eyes lit up with a familiar blend of excitement and mischief. “Let’s go!”

Eliott doesn’t question him, rushing to find their jackets as they hurry from the apartment. Lucas breaks out into a run the moment they reach the hallway.

“Lucas!” Eliott calls out laughing, immediately giving chase. “What are you doing?!”

“There’s no time!” Lucas yells, bolting down the stairway and not stopping until they both burst into the cold night air.

It’s begun raining Eliott realizes with surprise. It’s a light drizzle but cold. It’s the sort of rain that hints at snow, though they’re unlikely to get it, and he suddenly desperately wants to see Lucas in the snow. Eliott can perfectly picture the snowflakes catching on his eyelashes.

“We should go north.”

Lucas spins around in the rain, his smile as bright as the moonlight casting a glow around them. “What?”

“Next Christmas. We should go north. I want snow.”

“Ok,” Lucas agrees with a laugh.

The distant sound of people chanting the countdown sounds from the building. Their friends or someone else celebrating, Eliott doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. He reaches for Lucas just as Lucas does the same, and they pull one another close.

Eight! Seven!

A raindrop drips down Lucas’s face. The rain is growing heavier.

“We should get out of the rain,” Eliott suggests. “It’s cold.”

Five! Four!

“No,” Lucas disagrees, tilting his head back to catch more drops on his face. “I love it.”

The sound of the countdown drifts into background noise, irrelevant and unimportant when faced with the beauty of the boy in his arms.

“I knew I loved you then.”

Lucas looks back to him. “What?”

“That day in the rain,” Eliott continues. “When we drove back from my parents place. I knew I loved you then.”

Lucas’s mouth parts with his surprise, before a smile begins pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I loved you then too.”

Eliott stares at him in wonder. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Lucas admits with a slight laugh. “Was pretty annoyed about how goddamn much I did but, yeah – I loved you then.”

A wide smile stretches across Eliott’s face. “I love you now too.”

Lucas smiles, sweet and pleased. “Good. Now kiss me. You missed the countdown, you dork.”

The noise of New Year’s revelers suddenly filters back into Eliott’s consciousness, cheers and laughter mixed with the pop of fireworks being set off in all corners. He smiles.

“Maybe,” he admits. “We’ve always been better at making our own rules.”

Lucas makes a sound of amusement, looking charmed. “Gonna make our own countdown then?”

“Five, four –”

Lucas cuts him off, pressing their lips together in a hard, lingering kiss before he pulls back.

“So fucking cheesy I don’t know what I see in you.”

Eliott laughs into the next kiss, smiling too hard - far too fucking happy - to do more than press their lips together in an uncoordinated attempt at sharing his bliss with Lucas.

Lucas’s eyes are shining when Eliott separates them to look at him once more.

“Why’d you pull me out here?”

Lucas’s eyes move to a drop of rain trailing down Eliott’s cheek and he cups his hand there, his thumb brushing across the skin to capture the moisture. When his eyes look back to Eliott’s they’re filled with such warmth, it spreads through Eliott like a living flame, fierce and powerful, but comforting too. And he feels safe. Safe and so very loved.

“I only ever want to be with you.”

* * * *

END NOTES: I’ll add this and the Xmas snippet to ao3 shortly. Hope you liked it!!! Smooches to you all and here’s to saying good fucking riddance to 2020!!!

#skam france #elu #skamfr #mood tattoo fic #skam france fanfic #elu fanfic

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 4 years

Text

In The Calm, There Rose A Storm | Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sawamura Daichi, Reader/Original Female Character

Pairings: Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader, Sawamura Daichi/Reader

Warnings: Minor Angst

Word Count: 3557

Summary: Falling for Ushijima was far too easy - they do always say that opposites attract - but in the calm, there rose a storm.

A/N: This is the first part of a companion piece, the second part will the linked here.

---------

She’d met him a week into her first year of high school. They were complete opposites in almost every single way - she never minded that, though.

She explored the school, mesmerized by each twist and turn of the fateful path, eyes wide with purpose and joy. Shiratorizawa was intimidating - to say the least - every person who came here had a hopeful future, they were destined for great things. She never felt like she was destined for much, but she accepted it.

The sound of squeaking sneakers and balls slamming into the ground caught her attention; she all but ran towards the gym, peering her head around the door. Of course she didn’t have a single idea of what she was watching, but it was thrilling, seeing balls tossed into the air only to hit the floor with a heart stopping thwack. Her eyes followed the ball like it had the answers to life, not even moving when it ricocheted off and directly at her face.

Surprisingly, she hadn’t been killed on impact. Although, considering the pain, she might’ve preferred that.

The boy who had hit the ball - his name was Ushijima Wakatoshi - pulled her to her feet, offering one solemn apology before he turned back to the court. She jokingly yelled out that he’d need to make it up to her, because, “you did just try and kill me with one of those killer hits.”

She hadn’t expected him to turn around and nod, passing her his phone and motioning for her to type in her number. True to his word - or lack of words - he had messaged her later that night to arrange a time for a dinner. They both agreed that tomorrow would work for both of them; he bid her a goodnight.

She learnt that he didn’t talk often - unlike her, who never seemed to be able to shut up - when he did speak, it was blunt, straight to the point, not a single curve or wave. Definitely a one track mind. They talked about little things; about volleyball, and school, even dipping into his family life.

By the end of the dinner, she would have been happy to leave it at just that, but he asked whether she would like to do it again sometime.

Sometime turned into once a week, and by the fifth week, she asked if he would like to be her boyfriend.

----

They settle into a routine. Once a week, he takes her on a date. Most nights she would come back to his dorm, she would rub his muscles after practise and talk to him about her day. He’d agreed to let her call him ‘Toshi’, though it was like trying to break down a brick wall with a stick - he still refused to call her her first name - she’d tried to not be offended.

She didn’t miss little comments he made about her, not willing to admit how much they hurt because he was always blunt, his words always had something more harsh to them. She was just over-reacting. She was sure of it.

----

On one of their dates, her mind was preoccupied watching a couple a few tables over, a soft smile on her lips. He followed her line of sight, but couldn’t see anything interesting. “What’re you looking at?” he asked, trying to figure it out.

“Oh, it’s just cute that he bought her flowers.” She knew he wouldn’t get the hint that she wanted them - this was Toshi, after all; she didn't miss the wave of disgust on his face.

“Flowers are disgusting,” he sighed - he missed the way her face dropped.

“I think they’re pretty,” she muttered, stirring her drink absentmindedly, “you know every flower has a different meaning?” She asked, looking up at him. He obviously didn’t care, but that didn’t matter to her, “like roses are a symbol for love, daisies for innocence, forget-me-nots for remembrance.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He said, lifting his drink to his lips and taking a big sip .

“To you, maybe, but flowers are important to me.”

----

“Can I come watch you practise?” She asks one evening, running her hand through his hair - because in the confines of his dorm is the only place where she’s allowed to touch him.

Of course, he tensed up, he always tenses up. “No.” He mumbles, eyes not moving from his laptop screen.

“Why not? Just this one, pretty please,” she begs him, trying to break the cold exterior. She couldn’t understand how they’d been together for five months and yet he still refused to let her watch him practise - she wasn’t even allowed to come and watch his games. It hurt more maybe because she’d gone out of her way to learn about volleyball for him, for him she loved the sport. Of course she’d watch his games on TV, but it wasn’t the same. “I won’t say anything! I’ll just sit there. Or I could just wait outsi-”

“I said no, you’ll just be a distraction.” Now it was her turn to tense. But she quickly washed it away, forcing herself to remember that he does care about her. If he didn’t, then he wouldn’t take her on nice dates; he wouldn’t let her come back to his dorm; he wouldn’t let her be near him. But he did do those things, and for that she should be grateful.

She doesn’t want to argue with him, so instead she settles down, talking to him about her day instead. Even when her voice wavers, she doesn’t stop. Not for a while. Not until he says something that makes her heart crack just a little bit.

“You talk too much.”

An instant reaction of her jaw snapping shut before tears welled in her eyes - but he either didn’t care, or he didn’t notice - she chose to believe it was the latter.

----

Had she really made that big of a mistake coming to surprise him at practise?

She had thought that maybe he was kidding before - she should have known better. Especially when there was an anger deep in his eyes that scared her beyond recovery.

Of course they’d had to lock eyes just as he was going to spike; of course he’d had to miss it because he was too busy staring at her.

Her heart pounded in her throat as he dragged her around the corner of the gym, away from everyone’s prying eyes and ears. “I just- I just wanted to do something nice…” she muttered, looking away from him.

“I told you not to come,” he growled, his voice wavering more than he’d like it to, but that would be a thing to worry about later, “and look what happened. I messed up because of you. Because you were distracting me.”

She would have been more hurt if it wasn’t true - because she had distracted him, just like he said she would. “I’m sorry.” But she doesn’t mean it - not fully, at least.

To her, it was almost like a revenge - one he’d never know about. It was petty, she knew that, and yet she couldn’t help it. Her internal victory was cut short by the raise of his voice, “but you aren’t, otherwise you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

She listened to his tirade, trembling with each word, fighting back the tears that threatened to break through. Every single syllable felt like acid against her skin, peeling her away until she was nothing of herself. And yet, somehow, she felt thankful - maybe it was because he was talking more words to her. It was sick. She felt sick.

----

She didn’t bring up his practise again, not unless she was asking him how it went. Even then he just grunted, saying, “I played as well as I always do.” And she knew it was right.

Nowadays when they were in his dorm, she didn’t talk like she did before, instead twiddling with her thumbs or massaging his aching shoulders whilst he watched a volleyball game on his laptop. If he asked her questions, she would answer, but the ache in her heart was too much to say anything more.

When they were first together, she was so sure she’d found the one that she was blinded; Toshi was smart, attractive, what more could she possibly want?

Apparently, there was more she’d need.

----

“You couldn't even put me first, just this once?” She hears herself say.

She’d been waiting at their usual cafe for their weekly date, the thing she’d clung to even when things became rocky. Of course he hadn’t shown up; he hadn’t shown up to a date in over a month.

“I told you I had practise.” His eyes show no remorse.

“You always have practise.” She scoffed, stepping back from him, crossing her arms under her chest. Even as she tried to sound angry, her voice was too soft.

“I can’t skip practise to go on a silly date.” This time she turned her head away, any emotion or care dripped from her face.

She feels her heart break. It’s harsh, makes her want to crumble to the floor, but then he would win and she couldn’t have that. “Whatever, I’m going.” She sighs, moving to walk away. He grabs her wrist.

“Don’t be like this.”

Her heart clenches. She wants to turn around and forgive him, but she just can’t. It hurts too much. Every day has slowly become more painful; she hated how she’d become just to please someone who didn’t even care.

Ripping her wrist from his grasp, she walks away. Each step was heavier, harder; when she was sure he couldn’t see her anymore, she crumbled, clutching her stomach. Choked whimpers escaping her lips. This is right. She told herself. You need to do this for you, because you deserve the world.

----

She didn’t go back to her dorm that night, opting to go back to her parents; they were surprised to see her, considering she normally only visited on the weekend, but with her red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, they didn’t question it.

She didn’t have the energy to tell them what she’d been through with Toshi. There wasn’t a point - not in her opinion, at least. Instead, she said that she wanted to transfer schools. Of course, they were confused, but didn’t pressure her to speak.

Together, they came to an agreement, as long as she finished this year at Shiratorizawa, then she could transfer for her second year. She begrudgingly agreed, despite the bile in her throat at the idea of the school she’d once adored.

----

It almost hurts her at how little has changed. Toshi had never talked to her in class unless it was necessary, he never waited for her outside of the door; no wonder people were surprised when she told them she was dating him.

When she didn’t show up at his dorm that evening, he called her. She was surprised. In their entire 7 months together, he had never called her. She didn’t answer him. Not even when he called the second time. Or the third. Especially not on the fourth. By the fifth, she’d had enough, and blocked his number. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

It didn't stop there - of course it didn’t - this was Toshi afterall. A number she didn’t recognise called her, a voice she did recognise called out, “are you okay?” Tendou Satori. His voice was level but hinted at worry. “Toshi just called me saying you we-”

“We are over.” Venom. Pure, unfiltered venom. That’s what it tasted like saying it outloud. When her sentence was finished, she hung up, not giving him a second to argue with her. Instead, she shut off her phone and curled up.

----

He didn’t fight her about it, just like she’d expected him to - though she didn’t have to guess who had put the bouquet of flowers on her desk the next morning - purple hyacinths for forgiveness, lavender for devotion, even pink forget-me-nots. She couldn’t help the venom-filled thought that whisked through her mind, these would have been nice before, if only you’d have cared.

Gently caressing the leaves, she had to fight the urge to scream. She opted to toss them into the trash. Her skin felt hot. Everything she touched was another burning sensation after another. The entire day, she bit her lip to stop herself from crying.

----

Every single morning there was a fresh bouquet on her desk. Every single morning she threw them away. Maybe this was his way of trying to fight for her back - and even after everything she’d been through, her heart still yearned to forgive him.

She had to put a stop to it when he was waiting for her outside of the classroom with a large bouquet. “What are you doing?” She stopped herself from yelling, but the burning in her throat was enough to warn him. She felt sick just looking at him, he didn’t even look remorseful for what he’d put her through.

“I want you to talk to me.” He said - no, demanded, she could hear it in his tone; her stomach twisted. She couldn’t help but scrunch up her nose in disgust.

“You have practise,” she sighed, stepping past him, “isn’t that more important than doing this?”

She regrets her words the moment they leave her lips, she turns back just in time to see the bouquet fall to the floor. Something inside him breaks. She can hear it.

----

The day before spring break, she’s made to announce that she’ll be transferring schools. She can’t even look at him as she says it; most people in her class call out that they're going to miss her. He didn’t say a word.

Karasuno is much different to Shiratorizawa, and she has never been more thankful for that. Sure, it was far away from home, but she loved that. There was nothing here that could remind her of him. Karasuno was quaint and small, but just as lively - if not more so - she didn’t feel the aura of superiority in the air from every student who passed her. There were still people who mocked her for leaving such a powerhouse school, but they were few and far between. At Karasuno, she let her broken heart slowly heal.

Still, she remained quiet her entire second year, trying not to talk too much.

----

In her third year, she decides to indulge her adventurous nature, though she shuts off her mind, not taking the time to care as she had done two years ago. She thinks about meaningless things, like what she was going to do after school today, and what homework she needs to complete.

She doesn’t even realise that she’s walked herself in front of a gym until a loud voice calls out to her, telling her to move. She turns just in time to catch sight of the ball, preparing herself for an impact that never comes; instead the ball had been stopped, the forearm in front of her face told her she’d been protected.

She can’t help but remember him in the eyes of this stranger, though they look nothing alike - and he hadn’t protected her from the ball.

Sawamura Daichi, as she quickly learns, is nothing like Toshi. He quickly checks to make sure she’s okay, even tossing in a cheeky, “you should take me to dinner as a thank you for saving your life.” He was joking, of course he was joking, but she still pulled out her phone and asked for his number.

He called her later that night, after she’d messaged him, exclaiming that she didn’t need to take him to dinner and that he would be alright, I promise. She ignores him, asking when he’s next free.

They meet up that weekend, and she takes him to the cafe. Talking with him was effortless, and she even found herself talking just a little more than she normally would.

Nobody is surprised when they go on a second date, and then a third; days seem to go by so quickly when she’s with him. She is elated when he asks her to be her boyfriend - he is elated when she says yes.

----

“You should come watch me practise.” Daichi said in passing one day. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water - she’d still barely managed to be okay with the fact he played volleyball, watching him practise might be too much for her.

“Wouldn’t I be too distracting?” Her voice is like a breeze, too soft. He can feel his heart shatter at the way her eyes start to shine - not with happiness, no, as if she were going to cry.

He cups her cheeks, brushes her hair behind her ears, looking at her firmly, “of course, but I’d love to have you by my side no matter what - besides, it’d be nice to hear you cheering my name.” He grins from ear to ear, pressing light kisses over her face. She doesn’t know whether to feel loved or not, but she settles on the former and allows herself to smile.

“I’ll come watch.” She says, rolling her eyes as he yells triumphantly, “but I don’t know about cheering you on, probably that Tsukishima, though.” Giggling as he lightly swats at her arm.

----

From that day, she comes to every practise - but not morning ones, her train wouldn’t make it in time - he invites her to every single one of their games, and she paints his number on her cheek every time.

When Karasuno plays against Shiratorizawa, she stands proudly, cheering so loudly right from the very beginning.

Ushijima hears her voice and he swears it’s like an angel is calling out to him; when he catches sight of her, his heart almost stops, she’s smiling so wide and so happily, wearing one of Daichi’s far oversized shirts and he can’t help but wish that she were cheering him on.

His heart caught in his throat. She was happy, but she wasn’t happy for him. He knew that; that point was only hammered in by Daichi looking up at her and waving so gleefully. The way she leaned over the barrier, blowing him a thousand kisses, he knew this feeling in his gut was jealousy. He wanted to destroy Karasuno in front of her, show her who she should be with. That she should be with him, and not some wannabe, not someone he didn’t dedicate as much time to volleyball as him.

----

After they’d lost, he wanted to sink into the ground. Of course we lost, she was such a distraction. He growled at his own thoughts. She still haunted him, and he didn’t even understand why.

“Oh, Tendou?” Her voice was soft as she greeted the redhead, it was obvious who she was waiting for, and still she decided to greet them.

“It’s been a while,” Tendou chuckles, “didn’t know you would be supporting the other team? What happened to your Shiratorizawa pride?” Confusion laced in her features before being washed away by a mild aggression.

“I go to Karasuno.” She said cooly, her words cutting deep into the blocker. “And besides, I’m here to support my boyfriend.” Her eyes darted in the direction behind Ushijima, but it was enough to make his heart stop. The grin that willingly tugged at her lips said a thousand words.

“I thought you hated volleyball.” Tendou kept trying to be harsh, kept trying to make her feel something other than her joy. It wasn’t working.

“I used to, but things change when you find the right person,” she patted his arm, smiling softly before turning around, “you played good.” She waved and ran towards Daichi, he opened his arms and caught her as she jumped, squealing with so much delight.

Ushijima could only watch the interaction with a bitter taste in his mouth. She nuzzled her nose against his, offering him so much praise. Not once did he let her go, not even as his coach protested the display of affection, not even when his team gagged. He only pulled her in closer; she felt pure, unadulterated love for him. There was no other way to see it.

Ushijima walked towards the team, wanting to be able to make some snide remark towards them. She pulled her eyes away from Daichi to meet his, any emotion dripping from her face. He cleared his throat, piercing his eyes into her, “can I talk to you for a minute?” He asked.

“Anything you need to say to her,” Daichi carefully put her down, making sure to wrap an arm around her shoulder, “you can say to all of us, Toshi.” He was being mocked - he knew that much. That nickname only meant that she’d told him about them. She looked up at Daichi adoringly.

“I told you you were a distraction.” He kept his voice level, but on the inside he was screaming.

Yet she didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look at him sadly, just pushed closer into Daichi’s side and hummed, “I’m not a distraction to the one that matters.”

He watched her as she walked away. Trying to understand why he wanted to cry.

“She seems happy,” Tendou hissed, putting a knowing hand on Usjijima’s back.

“She does.”

#ushijima x reader #daichi x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #angst #fluff #writing #my writing #hq writing #haikyuu writing

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dolliedarlin · 3 years

Note

Hi im sorry if I'm disturbing you but I need to ramble for a bit and ur my only sense of comfort <3

Soooo I day dreamed a bit and then I had a scenario in my head about Kirishima with his wife and daughter ( angst)

(This is written very shitty I apologize in advance)

So imagine Kiris wife was a pro hero too and died... so now there's only kiri with his 14-15 year old daughter and they're...... sad... so one day kiri is on a mission and gets hits really hard so he ends up in the hospital, kiris daughter being emotionally drained and unstable freaking out when she sees him in the hospital first she runs to hug him and then she gets a bit of an mental breakdown and yells at papa kiri for being so careless and of how she is supposed to live without any parents when she basically can't even without her mother. A LOT LOT LOT of comfort from papa kiri and then they make a pinky promise that kiri isn't allowed to die and leave his daughter alone and.....

TIMEEEESKIPPP SOMEHOWWWWW

We see someone standing in front of two Graves and PLOTWIST its kiri himself...

His daughter got some kinda illness like cancer and died... So kiri goes " you broke the promise little one" and holds his pinky in front of the grave of his daughter and cries...

OK SO I KNOW THIS IS WRITTEN SHITTY BUT IMAGINED THIS SCENARIO OVER AND OVER IN MY HEAD AND IT MADE ME CRY I JUST WANTED TO SOMEHOW GET IT OFF MY CHEST....

I LUV U AND UR WRITINGS!<3

- an insomniac anon who's having an exam tomorrow

Luv u <3

i apologise to all you lovely anons that i kept in my ask box for such a long long time >~< i honestly don't know how to respond to your creative imaginations sometimes, it's all wonderful and imaginative and i feel like if i add anything or even comment anything, i'd be making input that isn't needed but all these scenarios need to be shared so everyone can be kept sane while i make you guys wait until the next update (DX i'm so sorry for that btw)

oh my gosh, this is just heartbreak...heartbreak heartbreak, i can feel my heart snapping in two!

but just to make it a little happier, i imagine a year or two after his daughter died, Kiri was seriously injured in yet another dangerous mission. you see, after he lost two of his most precious people, he because really protective of the people that were in his life currently, and that meant all of his prohero friends and since he has a hardening quirk, he always took the hits even if it meant getting hospitalised over and over again.

so he's in his hospital room, relaxing and trying to read a book even though he can't concentrate half the time and ends up reading the same paragraph over and over again for the past half an hour when...he hears the door gently creak open before a pitter patter of footsteps make their way over to his bed.

looking down he sees a little girl with a handful of daisies in her clutched to her chest before he could say anything she greets him in the most adorable voice he's ever heard

"hello mister! do you like daisies?" she grins with a crinkle in the corners of her eyes

"ummm...yeah, they're very cute" Kiri plays along, enjoying the company as his heartstring pull achingly at the vision of his deceased daughter in place of the little girl.

"I think so too! i bring them here for my grandma, mommy says she's sick and that it's very serious..." kiri's heart breaks at the thought of such a young and innocent child having to go through a gradual loss of a loved one so early on, "but i think that if i bring grandma enough flowers, she'll smile enough and feel happy enough to get better," such innocence needs protecting and Kiri is reminded of why he does what he does as a prohero. "Are you sick too, mister?" the little girl asks with a frown.

"yeah but i'm strong so i'll get better soon, don't worry little one," kiri reaches down and gently pets her hair, smiling at how soft it is. Just like his daughter's...

she giggles and holds a delicate daisy up to him, "have a daisy and be happy!"

"Thank you..."

#love; dollie

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Text

2. Birthday Kisses

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 8.1k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

a/n: thank you for all the love on this story so far!!!! i’m so happy that so many of you are loving Y/N and Harry as much as me. shoot me messages about your thoughts and feelings - i want to hear them!!! xoxo

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

Harry had spent days trying to figure out where to take Y/N for their date. She said he would get one date, and so he was going to make sure it counted. After speaking to his mum and Gemma, as well as James Corden because it’s always good to have a grown man’s opinion, and the entirety of his band. On James’s recommendation, he found a drive-in movie theater on the outskirts of LA. Perfect because it was simple, would allow them to talk, and most of all, it was private. He would drive his own car with the tinted windows and he wouldn’t even really have to talk to anyone. Y/N had made it perfectly obvious that she wasn’t interested in dating a musician, so Harry wanted to keep their date as low key as possible as a result—he wanted her to forget what his job was and just get to know him as a person.

Deciding what to wear for their date was possibly harder, though. Did he just wear jeans and t-shirt? A button down? It was January, so did he go for a sweater? He had Harry Lambert on FaceTime for two hours going through outfits before Lambert told him to just pick something comfortable and that he had to go to bed. So Harry settled on a black button down and black jeans—simple, but he felt good in it. Confident. And he thought he looked good too—he had been working out, partially for Dunkirk filming back in the 2016, but also just generally. Since the band had broken up he had had more time to actually dedicate to himself, and he enjoyed it. Before, exercise had always been something squeezed into the day on the road, him half exhausted and barely alive enough to focus, and now he had energy and the motivation. It was a completely different experience. (It also helped that the other guys weren’t distracting him the whole time.)

At five thirty, he drove over to Y/N’s place—she’d moved out of her dad’s house after the renovation a few days ago. She had told him over text and he had to admit, he felt honored that she had shared facts of her life over text with him after how hesitant she was to go on the date with him.

I’m here, he texted her when he pulled up outside her building. It was an older style but in a nice neighborhood, a light brown brick exterior and not too modern. Can I come up?

Sure, she answered, Just finishing getting ready. Apt. 3C

He pulled on sunglasses, his lame attempt at a disguise, and headed inside, entering the gate code she sent over. He bounded up the stairs, thankful for the exercise to keep his brain busy. If he had taken the elevator he would’ve just stood there panicking. A welcome mat sat outside her door saying Welcome Home! and he smiled at it before knocking softly on her door.

She opened it a few beats later, shoeless and only one earring in. “Hi,” her voice breathless. “Sorry I’m a mess still, come on in.”

“No problem,” he answered, stepping inside. “Shoes on or…?”

“On is fine,” she replied. “I’m not as anal about it as my Dad is.”

Harry nodded, leaving his shoes on, and glanced around her place. There were some things still in disarray, probably from the recent renovation, but all in all it looked perfectly lived in and homey. He missed London and his house, the feeling of having a home base and someplace that felt like his own. He liked the house he was renting for the time being, but it wasn’t his, the bed wasn’t as comfortable as his one in Hampstead, and he desperately missed his expensive blender for morning smoothies. “I like your place.”

Y/N glanced around the space before back at him. “Thank you. Um, make yourself at home? I’ll be just a few.” With that, she was gone into a bedroom, Harry left in the kitchen. He wandered into the living room and explored her bookcase. She had a great selection of stuff, everything from classics like Zora Neale Hurston to The Hunger Games, which Harry had secretly adored and read three times. The walls were laden with picture frames of her and friends from what seemed like her time in college—kegs and Halloween costumes featured prominently, as well as some with her friends at the beach. He tried not to think about her in a bikini for too long. There was also a framed sheet of paper and when he looked closer he realized it was the lyrics to her father’s most famous song, one which he realized was definitely about becoming a father to Y/N. He had listened to all of her father’s music in preparation for their songwriting session and this one was one of his favorites, the raw emotion in it breathtaking.

“Okay,” she aid, entering the doorway of her room. “I’m ready.” She had a different top, the soft purple chiffon falling in vents, swishing as she moved. A pair of loose but flattering denim jeans on her legs, black booties giving her a few more inches in height. A pale red lip and light eyeliner that made her brown eyes pop, the same kind that had been done on my own eyes for many a photoshoot. She looked perfect, gorgeous, like words he didn’t even have.

“You look…incredible,” he said, struggling to speak.

Y/N glanced down at her clothes and then back at him. “Uh, thank you. You too.”

Harry smiled at her and then nodded to the door. “C’mon, we don’t want to be late.”

“You have’t even told me where we’re going!”

“It’s a secret.”

“I don’t want it to be a secret,” she said when they got in the elevator. Harry didn’t want to make her climb down stairs in her boots.

“Well, you’ll have to live,” Harry replied. He hoped she liked the date. If not, he was truly fucked.

When he pulled into the drive-in, Y/N laughed and the sound made Harry’s heart soar. It wasn’t too packed, it being a Wednesday night and all, so they were able to get a spot without too many cars around. He pulled the popcorn bags and bars of chocolate he had brought out from the backseat and handed her a bottle of water.

“You thought of everything, didn’t you?” She said, accepting the bottle with a smile. “What’s the film?”

“The Birds,” he replied, “hope that’s okay. I love Hitchcock and assumed everyone does, but if it’s not your cup of tea we can go—“

She shook her head at him, fingers coming to grip his thigh in a way that set his skin on fire. “It’s perfect. Love this film—Dad and I watched it together years ago and I’ve been meaning to re-watch.”

Harry smiled at her, settling back into his seat. “Candy or popcorn?”

“Popcorn definitely,” she answered, taking the back he handed her. “What about you? Sweet or salty?”

“Depends on the sweet.” He raised the chocolate bar. “This, for instance, is an always. But something like Dum Dums? No thank you.”

“Who even eats Dum Dums?”

Harry chuckled. “Not me.”

Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and Harry went to fiddle with the radio, turning the channel to match the one for the film. “I’m glad you persuaded me to come,” she said softly, voice barely audible above the sound from the radio as the previews started. “Been a while since I went on a date.”

Harry looked at her in surprise. “I’m happy you came,” he replied. Clearing his throat, he continued, “truth be told, I wanted to ask you out the moment I saw you. Mainly just to get to know you better. I also, honestly, loved how comfortable you were in the music scene—a lot of girls I’ve dated in the past aren’t and it becomes an issue.”

“I get that,” she said. “It’s not the easiest for outsiders.” Before Harry could respond, the film started, and their attention was redirected to the massive screen in front of them.

Even though he was supposed to be watching the screen, his eyes kept flittering back to Y/N. Her side profile entranced him, the curl of her hair perfectly coiled—he wondered what products she used, maybe he should try them? Lou had been telling him to actually get a grip on his hair care routine, but most days lately he couldn’t be bothered. It’s not like he was doing press anyways. When Y/N gasped, hand reaching from the popcorn back to grip his thigh, he tensed and not from panic, but from desire. He wanted to kiss her lips, her lips with faded red lipstick from eating popcorn, her lips that curved up when she smiled and looked soft and utterly delicious.

When he saw she was fidgeting, not able to figure out where to place her legs, he snatched her ankles and dragged them over to his lap. It was a reflex and one that earned him a “What are you doing?” but when he started rubbing her calves in circles, a soft murmur left her mouth and she looked back to the film. Harry loved her feet in his lap, allowing him the ability to notice the daisy chain tattooed around her left ankle. A gasp tumbled into the car when he ran his finger along the skin, her eyes meeting his and suddenly the air in the car changed completely.

It was an hour into the film and other than brief conversation about the film, Y/N saying how much more fucked up it was than she remembered, it had been mostly silent. Harry wondered if she was as preoccupied with how much she wanted him as he was with how much he wanted her.

Then suddenly, her kicked off her boots so she was just in her socks, and with her eyes still on the screen, she rubbed her foot down on his dick. Harry let out a hiss, unable to process what was happening or the shiver that went up his back at the pressure. “Y/N,” he said in a warning. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” she said, innocent as hell except for the smirk on her lips.

“You little minx.” He tossed her boots into the backseat and tickled the bottom of her feet, the squeak that left her mouth allowing him to feel like he’d gotten some form of revenge. “Bored or something?”

Y/N giggled and the sound made Harry’s heart soar. “No, just interested in something else.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

Harry trailed his fingers up her leg slowly, basking in the soft moan that filled the car. “Y/N, I really want to kiss you,” he said, not even fearing her response to the words. She’d started it. He wanted to finish it.

Y/N looked back at him, eyes finally leaving the screen. “Then kiss me,” she said bluntly and Harry didn’t waste another second. He leaned over the center console and tugged Y/N to him with his fingers at the back of her neck and when their lips met Harry kicked himself for not doing this earlier. Her lips were soft, just like he’d thought, and salty from the popcorn, a butter sheen making them delectable. Her fingers wound through his hair, tugging gently, a hiss falling from his mouth and into hers. He ignored the crink in his neck from the position and instead focused on the way Y/N pressed soft kisses to the corners of his mouth. Her hand slid down his front, tucking her fingers between the buttons of his shirt, goosebumps raising on his skin.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, her name a plea and a question all in one. He didn’t want to overstep her boundaries, the memory of her rule—No musicians—echoing loudly in his brain. But he also wanted to kiss her until the end of time.

“Can you move your seat back?” She asked, brushing her thumb along his jaw. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, but he did as she asked. And then she swung her legs over the console, one knee on either side of his waist, and he understood. And he was not mad in the slightest.

Their lips reconnected as a scream came from the radio, but neither of them paid it any mind. The movie was a forgotten memory, their entire focus on where their lips met, nipped at one another, and battled for dominance. Y/N’s hands scrambled all over his body, curling into his button down and leaving wrinkles Harry didn’t give a fuck about. The way her fingernails dug into his skin through the fabric made him buck into her and he loved the gasp that left her mouth, the way her thighs tightened around his hips. He wanted to hear her sounds on an endless loop, noise cancelling headphones on and the world drowned out around him. All he wanted to hear, to see, to smell, was Y/N. The subtle, clean perfume she had put on, her lavender shampoo he could smell when he nestled his nose below her ear to lick her lobe, the faint scent of marijuana and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if she’d smoke with him sometime.

Harry squeezed her hips, ruching her shirt up so he could brush his fingers across her skin. A whine escaped her lips and he chased it with his lips, wanting to hear more. He licked into her mouth, their tongues meeting. Y/N sucked hesitantly on his tongue and he groaned, Y/N giggling against his lips at the sound. “You menace,” he said, kissing a line down the column of her neck. “Driving me mad.” He nipped at the skin at the base of her neck and Y/N’s fingers curled into his hair, holding him there as she bucked her hips against him.

Kissing Y/N was everything Harry had been dreaming about since he met her. He had had actual dreams of kissing her, of knowing what it felt like to touch her skin, of her running her fingers down his arms like she was doing right in that second. He had woken up wondering if her lips would taste as good as they did in his dreams. In reality, she tasted better than he could’ve ever imagined. Sweeter, like a dewy English morning.

“Harry,” Y/N said, pulling away slightly from him. He tried to chase her lips but she just giggled and shook her head.

“What? Miss your lips.” He pressed a litter of kisses across her cheeks and her jaw, earning him gasps until Y/N tugged his head back from her.

“The seat buckle,” her words breathless, “it’s digging into my knee.”

Harry looked down and found that it was, indeed, digging into her kneecap in a way that was most definitely not comfortable. “We, uh, could go in the backseat?” Her face was unreadable and panic seized him—had he crossed a line? “Or we can stop—either is fine with me, I just want to be around you, we don’t have to do anything more and we can stop what we’re doing, I don’t—“

She shushed him with a finger to his lips. “Can we just stop for right now? I…I don’t want to rush into anything.”

Harry nodded quickly, running his hand up her back, desperately wish he could touch her bare skin under her shirt. “Of course. Wanna sit in your seat?”

Y/N looked at her seat and then at him. “Um, not really.”

His eyebrows quirked in response.

“Can I sit with you?” Her voice was small, hesitant. This Y/N was so unlike the one he had met, the strong and fierce girl who told him no. Here, Y/N was cautious in a different way, wanting to make sure what she did was okay with him too, and it warmed his heart that she cared about making him comfortable in the same way he did.

“ Of course, love,” the pet name slipping from his lips without a second thought. “C’mere.” With some difficulty, they adjust so that he was holding her, reclining his chair back slightly. Her body curled up, head resting on his shoulder, legs hooked over his in the small space between his seat and the door. Harry held her knees so they didn’t slip with one hand, the other trailing up and down her back. Y/N’s fingers traced circles on his abdomen and Harry tried to restrain from moaning, but he could feel the singe of her touch through his shirt and it destroyed him. “That better?”

“Mhmm,” she answered, eyes on the movie. “You’re comfortable.”

Harry chuckled, loving the way her mouth curled upwards at her little joke. He loved the feeling of her body against him, her weight pressed into him. A calm washed over him that he hadn’t felt since he was in London. With lips pressed to her hair, he settled in to watch the rest of the film, deciding he wouldn’t move her unless she asked, no matter how much his thighs ached.

After the movie ended, they drove to get ice creams, Y/N running inside to grab them so they didn’t run the risk of anyone seeing Harry. He drove down I5 to get back to her apartment, the lights of the city passing by them as they drove. Y/N told Harry about her work, the recent projects she was on, her co-workers who she adored, especially Jamie, the other strategist on her level. Harry listened intently, wanting to absorb every piece of information she told him like he was going to be tested on it later.

As he pulled up to her building, Y/N leaned over and turned down the volume of the music that had been playing in the background. It was Harry’s driving playlist, a lovingly curated collection of his favorite songs, one that was always a test for him of a person’s musical likeness. Y/N bopped her head along to all of his favorites, softly singing the lyrics to The Chain, so she officially passed the test.

“I had fun tonight,” Y/N said, looking over at him.

Harry threw the car in park and met her eyes. “Me too.” He wanted to ask if he could take her out again, but he didn’t want to rush her—he’d promised to take it at her pace, and he would keep that promise.

Y/N picked at her fingernails, the blue varnish chipping at the tips. “Would you want to do this again?”

A grin crossed Harry’s face, his highest hope realized. “I’d love to. I’ll text you?” Y/N nodded, and Harry took her hand in his, raising it to his lips and pressing a delicate kiss to her knuckles. “Text me when you’re in, okay?”

Faster than he could process, Y/N leaned across the console and kissed him. A quick, albeit deep kiss to his lips that left his mind scrambling as she pulled away and opened the car door. Her top swished in the wind as she walked away from him, the light from the street-lamps illuminating her figure in the dark night. Harry watched as she walked away, fading from sight, The 1975’s Somebody Else coming on shuffle.

His phone illuminated with a text from her a beat later. Inside. Thanks for tonight! :)

I’m happy I could get a second date, he replied, trying to be funny. Can’t wait to see you again xx

She replied with a heart and Harry tried not to read too much into it as he drove away with the windows down, Matty Healy’s voice filling the night air.

It had been two weeks since Harry took Y/N to the drive in, and since then Y/N’s days had been filled with texts from Harry at all hours of the day. He would send her memes he found on Twitter or Instagram, sometimes a photo of his lunch for the day, and ask her about work. She’d send him a selfie of her work outfit when she was feeling particularly confident and he’s text back a heart eye emoji, and one night after a few glasses of wine they FaceTimed, both in their pajamas in bed. Those quiet, soft moments, were the ones that kept Y/N feeling close to Harry in between hours here and there watching films and making out on their respective couches.

Curled up on her couch, Harry holding her close, fingers threading through her hair as they watched The Good Place, Y/N couldn’t remember feeling this at ease this quickly with any other men she’d dated. But with Harry, she felt comfortable in her oversized sweatshirt and ratty sweatpants, hair tossed into a messy bun and her glasses perched on her nose, a glass of wine in her hand. There wasn’t a part of her who felt like she still had to impress him, he was just…Harry. And that was the part that scared her, because if she forgot about his job, about his popularity, did that mean she would let him get too close? She had made her rule for a reason, and this moment was a prime example of how important it was.

The episode ended, Netflix asking them if they were still watching, and Harry squeezed her shoulder. “Want some more?” He asked, nodding to her wine glass.

“Sure,” she answered, sitting up and handing it to him. “We might need to open a fresh bottle—there’s more—“

“In the pantry, I know,” he said, cutting her off with a smile. He’d spent many nights with her on this couch and at this point she didn’t need to tell him where the forks were or where here recycling bin was.

Y/N tugged the blanket around her shoulders, cold from Harry leaving, and pressed pause on the TV. “Another episode?”

“Obviously,” Harry responded from the kitchen. She rolled over so she could watch him prepare the wine glasses, the sight of him standing in her kitchen, opening the wine on her marble countertops made her stomach flutter with butterflies. Every day that passed made it harder to hold him at a distance. “Are you free on the 1st?” He asked out of nowhere, pouring the wine into their glasses.

“Not sure,” Y/N responded. “Why?”

Harry looked up at her with a devious smile, the one Y/N had grown to enjoy. “It’s my birthday. Having a party and I was hoping you’d come.”

The idea of being in a room full of Harry’s friends, most of whom she would’t know, made Y/N’s head spin. But then again, she thought to herself, it wouldn’t be much different from going to an industry function with her dad and she’d been doing that since she was in diapers. She could hold her own. And plus, it was Harry’s birthday and the prospect of seeing him drunk and happy and eating cake was worth some discomfort. “Sure.”

His face lit up, eyes sparkling under the low lights of her kitchen. “Brilliant. Can’t wait for you to meet everyone—you’ll love them.” He brought over the wine glasses, tugging her back into his chest, arms a secure safe haven. “Now press play, wanna see what Eleanor and Chidi get up to this time.”

“I just want them to get together already,” she said, pressing play and settling into him, her face on his chest.

“Mhm,” he agreed, fingers scratching her scalp in the way she loved, and she tried not to let her eyes drift shut to the sound of his heart beating and the TV going.

With a gin and tonic in her hand and a forced smile on her face, Y/N wove her way through the crowd, trying to find Harry. She didn’t want to seem desperate, but he was her safety blanket of sorts—she didn’t know any of these people. Harry seemed to run in different circles from her dad and the people she’d grown up around, and the prospect of having to be a leech to Harry all night wasn’t exactly comforting. She didn’t want to be that annoying new girl that he had to introduce to everyone.

But then she heard her name from somewhere around her and she knew immediately that it was him. “Y/N!” Her eyes swept around her surroundings until they fell on his smile. He had his hair pushed back by a pair of sunglasses—despite that it was dark out—and he was in a velvet top with a crewneck underneath it. It was impossible, she thought, not to notice how stunning he was. She also wondered how much effort it would take to get him to take that crewneck off, because after the other times he had worn an unbuttoned shirt around her she knew it was one of her favorite things for him to wear.

She decided she would ask him when she gave him his birthday present.

Cutting through the people around her, Excuse me and I’m sorrys falling from her lips as she made her way over to the birthday boy, Y/N considered what he would make of her gift. She’d thought about it long and hard, called her best friend Hanna and Jamie on FaceTime to make sure she wasn’t being too presumptuous, but they’d reassured her she was fine. Overdue, even.

“Happy Birthday,” she said when she reached him, his hand immediately slipping around her waist. From the gleam in his eyes, she assumed he was a few drinks in and she wondered what silly dance moves he would whip out tonight. He’d shown her some earlier in the week after she had made them dinner and he’d had her giggling in seconds.

Harry’s hand squeezed the flesh at her hip, sending tingles up her spine, his eyes not leaving hers. “Thank you, baby.” It was the first time he’d used the nickname and Y/N tried not to think about the way it made her heart constrict with desire. “You look gorgeous.”

Jamie and Hanna had persuaded her to wear the outfit, despite her fears it was too much, but with Harry’s eyes on her and the way his hand curved into her body, she decided it was the right move. The short skirt and knee high boots she had been wanting to break out for ages, a silver top tucked loosely into the waistband to emphasize the curve of her waist. “Thanks,” she replied. “Now you going to introduce me, or will I have to do that myself?”

Harry blinked and the man and woman he was talking to chuckled. Y/N was happy she had made a good first impression—maybe making a joke or two at Harry’s expense would be her ice breaker. Not too many to where it hurt him, but enough to show people that she didn’t care about his fame, that to her he was just Harry, the idiot who did the Macarena in her living room to ABBA. “Oh, this is Mitch and Sarah,” he said, “they’re in my band. Mitch, Sarah, this is Y/N.”

“Pleasure,” the woman said, reaching out to hug Y/N. The display of affection warmed Y/N—maybe she wouldn’t have to be alone all night. This woman, Sarah, seemed lovely, and if she was in Harry’s band then she’d probably be seeing more of her at some point. “Harry mentioned you the other day. Said you have a sweet little place in Atwater?”

“Yes!” Y/N replied, her neighborhood one of her favorite topics of discussion. “I love it—moved in right after I graduated and it’s been perfect.”

“And what do you do, Y/N?” Mitch asked, taking a sip of his beer in his hand.

“Brand strategy,” Harry answered for her. “She’s utterly brilliant at it too—Y/N can you tell them about the project you were talking about at dinner on Tuesday?”

His words caused Y/N to glance at him with shock. She’d never had a guy answer for her before, but she could tell it wasn’t from a place of Harry trying to speak over her, but a place of pride—and support. “Yeah—it’s for a new ethical clothing brand out of Seattle, they’re working on size-inclusive athletic attire for women. The models for the campaign are going to be super diverse and I’m really excited to see it in the industry, since it’s been few and far between, especially in the fitness space.”

Sarah nodded along and Y/N could tell that she got it. “I’d love to know the company—could you text it to me?”

Harry gave Y/N another squeeze and she swallowed the smile that threatened to stay plastered on her face if Harry did that one more time. “Sure thing.” Sarah typed her number into Y/N’s phone, a little sunflower next to her name that reminded Y/N of Harry. It felt good to have a connection to one of Harry’s friends, especially someone as lovely as Sarah seemed.

And Sarah didn’t disappoint. She made Y/N her pet project for the evening, taking over when Harry had to talk to someone, keeping Y/N entertained and introducing her to people. By the time she had finished her second drink, she fonud herself deep in a conversation about a new art exhibit downtown that Jamie had mentioned to her. The thought of Harry’s presence hadn’t even popped into her head and it was nice to be independent in the space, to hold her own in the crowd. She realized that she fit in with his friends, despite her fears.

Harry kept on coming over though, grabbing her hand and leading her to talk to someone he worked with or was close with or he thought she’d find interesting. He refilled their glasses when she asked and kept an arm wrapped around her waist, a smile beaming down at her that filled her with joy. To be so supported by a man she’d only been seeing for a matter of weeks felt unreal, but she wasn’t mad about it. The newest conversation was with an up and coming photographer who Harry had taken a liking to, Harry explained to her.

“And this is my girlfriend Y/N,” he said, gesturing to her.

The title of girlfriend almost passed her over completely, but when she processed it, it stopped her dead in her tracks. They hadn’t talked about titles, about officially being boyfriend and girlfriend, as silly as the term sounded. Every other time he’d introduced her , it was just Y/N, although she assumed the way he held her close probably gave away their relationship to anyone who had eyes. After all, it had only been a few weeks, so they were still infatuated with touching one another. Y/N couldn’t keep her hands off of him either, fingers slipping into a belt loop absentmindedly or creeping up his back and rubbing circles there while he talked.

And maybe it was for those reasons that the word girlfriend didn’t affect her as much as she expected it to. It felt somewhat right, even, she thought. It wasn’t like she particularly wanted to be seeing anyone else, after all—Harry had swooped into her life and she’d become obsessed with spending time with him, despite her rule and her objections to the idea of him. He had shocked her with his charm and honesty and intellect, the way he listened to her and asked her questions, how he held her close and murmured his commentary to films in her ear, willing to jump up and get her ice cream anytime she asked. Even though he was the definition of the man she had always promised herself she would never date, the idea of ending things made her recoil.

So she let the term slide. She smiled and shook the man’s hand, listening intently to him describe his newest exhibition and tucked his business card into her purse when he handed it to her. Later, she told herself. She’d talk to Harry later.

She cheered when Harry blew out the birthday candles on his cake, laughing along with everyone else when James Corden tried to shove his face into the cake. When Harry kissed the top of her head chastely, lips sweet with icing, she reveled in the moment, taking a bite of her own slice. It was late and she was getting tired and she desperately wanted to give Harry his gift with the more time that passed and the more messy his curls got and the more drinks she had. And then Harry started dancing with Sarah and James and a dozen other people, and suddenly he was dragging her onto the dance floor, holding her close and shimmying his hips along to Ariana Grande with her. Her head tipped back and a laugh rang through the night and she decided there was simply no way she could break it off. Harry had proved her wrong and she was going to let him continue.

Their kisses were heavy when they stumbled into Y/N’s apartment, the door slamming shut behind them. It was after midnight and they were both quite tipsy, maybe even drunk. Harry more so than her, but not to the point where he couldn’t tell her how everything she did made him feel.

“Your lips are heaven,” he said, pressing a line down her throat with her pressed up against the door. “How are they so soft? Do you have some special scrub or somethin’?”

“It’s from fresh,” she answered. “Fuck, Harry.” His hand had wrapped around her thigh and tugged it up around his hip so that he could press himself into her center and the friction had her sweating. The combination of his weight against hers and the wetness of his tongue on her collarbones as he sucked a kiss into her skin left her squirming in his hold, hands gripping his coat tightly in her hands. “Get this off,” she said, pushing at his coat.

“Bossy,” he chuckled, shrugging it off, the material falling to the ground. “Want me out of anything else, ma’am?”

Mischief twinkled in his eyes and Y/N wanted him completely naked, but that was a bit much for the entryway to her apartment. “Shirt.”

He unbuttoned his velvet shirt, pulling it off, but Y/N caught it in her hands. He looked at her quizzically, trying to understand what she was doing.

“Want this on,” she explained, holding up the velvet top. “And that one off.” Her fingers pulled at the neck of his crewneck and Harry’s eyes trailed to her fingers and then back to her face.

“I like your brain,” he said simply. And then complied with her request, crewneck over his head and on the ground. Y/N’s fingers were on his chest immediately, drawing patterns over his tattoos that she knew were there from seeing him in tank tops and thin t-shirts, but it was another thing entirely to be able to touch the ink on his body.

When he tugged on his velvet shirt, Y/N smiled, touching the fabric. “Should’ve just worn this.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Her hands slid under the material, desperate to touch him again.

“I’ll make sure to get your approval next time.”

“Good.” Then, she pulled his lips back to hers, the touch of his mouth on hers leaving her humming. He ate it up, tongue licking into her mouth, the taste of tequila and cake filling her senses. His hand drifted up her side, squeezing the skin next to her breasts. She knew what he wanted and she didn’t want to say no to him. “Bedroom?”

Harry’s eyes widened, dropping to her lips and then back up to her eyes. “You sure?”

“Positive,” she answered. Then, she leaned in so she could whisper in his ear, “I have a present to give you.”

With that information, Harry swept her up in his arms, ignoring her pleas for him to set her down, and carried her into the bedroom. Dropping her onto the duvet, he crawled up her body like a cat, head nuzzling into her skin in a way that was so sweet Y/N didn’t know what to do with herself. “I want my present,” Harry mumbled. “What do I have to unwrap, baby?”

Y/N mewled at the last word of his sentence and he winked at her. Baby. “You said that earlier.”

He lifted his head and looked at her. “And?”

A smile wormed its way onto her face. “I like it.”

“Good,” he said, tucking his face back into her body, blowing hot air over her breasts. She could feel the sensation through the fabric of her top and it tightened her nipples, begging for more. “You like anything else I said tonight?”

“Hmm?”

“When we were talking to Eric,” he said, not meeting her eyes, instead pressing wet kisses down her tummy, rucking the hem of the fabric up slightly so he could touch her skin. “Called you something.”

Girlfriend. She knew where he was going and she couldn’t help but chuckle at his coyness. “I caught that.”

He licked into her bellybutton, a yelp escaping her mouth at the sensation. “Thoughts?”

“Can you take my shirt off already, boyfriend?” She didn’t even pause—she’d thought about it for the rest of the night, toying with the terms. The time had allowed her to process and now she knew what she wanted—she wanted him. She’d figure the rest of it out later, but first she wanted him.

Finally, Harry met her eyes. His face was illuminated by the light from her bedside table lamp, the soft glow showing the light tan to his skin, his green eyes popping up to hers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He kissed the soft skin above her belly button. “We’ll talk more about it later. But first, I want to see you.” Y/N leaned up and helped him take her shirt off, then shimmy the skirt down her hips. She kicked her boots off somewhere in the process. Lying in just her underwear for him, she tried not to squirm under his gaze as he took inventory of every inch of her exposed skin. “Beautiful,” he finally breathed out, eyes glassy and lips wet. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Your turn,” she said, tugging at his pants. “Get out of these.”

“Give me a second, Jesus woman,” he said, batting her hands away so he could get the button undone. The jeans were tight, which Y/N didn’t hesitate to make fun of him for, and Harry just rolled his eyes at her. “You love them,” he countered and he wasn’t wrong. When he hovered over her in just his boxers, Y/N decided he was positively delectable. Her hands pushed off his top that he had kept on just for her, the fabric falling somewhere on her floor.

“Roll over,” she directed, pushing at his torso so he would lay down in the space next to her.

He was compliant, completely under her spell. In just their underwear, there was far more skin to explore and Y/N planning to take advantage of her opportunity. She ran her hands over his skin, every tattoo earning a kiss from her lips, mumbling how pretty he was as she went down his body. It was like a map, and a map she wanted to know by heart. When he bucked into her core, Y/N smirked at him, Harry groaning as she ignored what he needed.

“Quite bossy, aren’t you?”

“It’s my birthday present, ain’t it?”

Y/N pressed a finger to his lips, hushing him as she had before and yet again, it worked. “Haven’t even told you what it is.” Clamoring off his body, she made her way lower, resting next to his knees. She brushed a finger over the outline of him in his boxer, a guttural moan filling the room at her touch. “That’s your birthday gift,” she told him, words falling soft in the space around them.

“Yeah?” He choked out as she gripped him harder through his boxers. “Please, Y/N, please.” His begs did something to her, his desperation pulling the same from her. She wanted to touch him, to have him in her mouth, to know how he tasted.

Her fingers pulled at his boxers, tugging them down his long legs and letting them fall to the end of her bed. His cock sprung up against his belly, hard and heavy, the tip pink from his desire. “Needy, hm?” Y/N didn’t usually do dirty talk, but with Harry it just fell from her mouth without another thought. The comfort of being with him made her usual worries about what she said collapse, her only thought his pleasure. “What do you want, baby?”

The pet name seemed to do something special to him because he bucked up into the air with a hiss. “Hands. Mouth. Anything.”

Y/N could do anything. She slid back into the spot between his legs and licked a solid stripe up the underside of him, the growl that left his mouth music to her ears. Taking the tip into her mouth she bobbed down as far as she could—she wanted to surprise him, start strong. None of this slow and steady crap. She wanted Harry to know how good she was, how good she could make him feel. She wanted to rock his fucking world.

And she did. She built a steady tempo, taking what she couldn’t fit in her mouth in her hands, rubbing him up and down, the slick of her saliva making the work easy. Harry’s hand found her hair, thumbing through it to keep it out of her face, the sweet motion making her heart sing. Every once in a while she would push down so that he hit the back of her throat and keep him there as long as she could, inhaling through her nose, the choked groan from his chest making the feeling worth it. When his hips popped up, his tip pressing deeper, she let him do it, loving the feeling of him in her mouth. She loved the moans filling the air and the way he rasped her name like the chorus to his favorite song, how he tugged on her hair and wound the strands between his fingers.

She decided that going down on him was her new favorite past time. She would make it a fucking national sport if that meant she could do it every day, because seeing him falling apart from her and her alone brought her a kind of gratification she had never felt.

“Close?” Her words pulled him from a daze, tongue darting over his lower lip.

“Yeah.”

That made Y/N double down her efforts. She wanted him to cum, she wanted it so badly she felt it in every bone of her body. “Want you to come,” she mumbled against him, the vibrations of her voice sending shocks through his body. “Come for me, H.”

He gasped, bucking into her mouth. “You—your mouth? I—“

“Come for me, baby,” her voice a beg, a plea. She wanted to taste him, to know how what he tasted like, to kiss him with the taste still lingering on her tongue.

When he came, she had to wonder if this was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The way he tossed his head back, mouth in a silent scream as he emptied into her mouth. He held her head in place lightly, just enough so there was weight but not too much where she couldn’t move, his other hand gripping the duvet cover in a tight grip. And his taste—he tasted a bit salty, but she didn’t mind. It was tangy, a taste that was him, and she loved it. She held him there on her tongue until he stopped, the ropes of his orgasm stopping finally, and she slipped him from her mouth. As he settled, his chest rose and fell quickly, regaining his breath.

She pressed her head to his thigh, out of breath too, her eyes on him. Watching him regain composure was a sight she would dream of, his hair scattered across her pillow in disarray, the flush to his cheeks, the pants from his parted lips.

“C’mere,” he finally said, voice raw. “Want a kiss.”

Y/N didn’t make him wait. She crawled up his body, legs on either side of his stomach and pressed her lips to his. The idea of him tasting himself on her tongue made her hot, her center clenching, but it was all about Harry tonight. “Happy Birthday,” she mumbled against his lips and he chuckled. “Hope it was a good one.”

“Best one yet,” he told her, smoothing her hair behind her ear. “Tired?”

She nodded, face held in his hands. “Stay?”

Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to her nose. “Course. Got an extra toothbrush?”

In the morning, she woke up in his embrace, arms curled tightly around her frame. He’d kicked some of the covers off overnight, but thankfully he was as hot as a furnace so she wasn’t cold. Without even thinking about it, she cuddled against his chest, shutting her eyes to hold onto the moment a little longer.

“I know you’re awake,” he whispered and Y/N rolled her eyes at him.

Turning over so she could see his face, she murmured, “Sleep well?”

“Perfectly,” he answered. “These sheets are cozy.”

“Target.”

“Huh. Maybe I’ll have to get some.”

She chuckled, pressing her face into his chest. “I don’t wanna get up.”

“Then don’t,” he replied, brushing her hair back. “Wanted to talk to you, though.”

“Hmm?” Her eyes were closed against his skin and it was blissful. He smelled like sweat and his cologne and the distinct smell of Harry, a scent she was quickly growing to adore.

Tucking a leg between hers, he said, “This is a busy year for me. The album’s coming out in May, then Dunkirk in July, then tour in the fall. And I know that you don’t want to date a musician and I know it’s early days, but I—I can’t imagine losing you, you know? So I want to have a plan for how we’re going to do it. Cuz it won’t be easy.”

Y/N looked up at him, the morning sunlight hitting his cheekbones perfectly. “The fact that you even want to have that conversation means so much.” Her words were honest—they showed he cared. He wanted to try, to make it work. “Let’s figure out the specifics when it comes time for that, but for now you’ll be here, yeah?” He nodded and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Let’s make a promise to each other. We talk. All the time about everything and anything. Don’t bottle it up, just share what’s going on in your head. I think that’ll make it somewhat easier. And we visit as much as we can.”

Harry’s fingers ran across the bridge of her nose and then up, a line across the tops of her eyebrows. “I like that.”

“But it’s a continuing conversation, okay?” She added, wanting to make sure this was clear. “We have to keep talking about it, even though it’s harder than it is to ignore it.” It was something she knew from watching her dad over the years and from her own relationship with him. Once she told him that he was gone too much, that she wanted him home, he made it happen. He prioritized her, she just had to remind him that she wanted him there.

“Okay.” Harry kissed her forehead, and then across her cheeks, soft kisses pressed to her skin that left her in giggles. “Now let’s eat something—I’m starved.” Y/N groaned, but let him pull her out of bed. They brushed their teeth together, him pressing toothpaste kisses to her lips, and she let him use her face wash and moisturizer. It was perfect, and for that moment, Y/N’s worries of the future fell away and she hoped she could hold them off. At least for a while.

TAGLIST

@smokeinherperfume @afire-hes @harryinsweatersandbandanas @marinalima3 @havethetimeofyourstyles @ursogoldenshan @inmygardensuit @marinalima3 @amaridon @harrys-watermelons @dontgiveupthedayjob @cronias13 @apples2019 @laula843 @afterstylesmadeit @kait-brin @harrys-watermelons @groovybaybee @clumsywithlove93 @1142590m

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NEXT CHAPTER COMING JULY 8TH @ NOON CST

#Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles drabble #harry styles smut #1dff #harry styles series #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #mine

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Sweet, Like Daisies

Pairing: Usagiyama Rumi (Miruko) x Gender Neutral Reader

Story Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff / Humor

Story Warnings: Some cursing and flirting, but mostly just cuteness that could rot your teeth.

a/n: This is my art of the bnharem Discord server SFW collab, with the theme of Flowers! I decided to base my part around Daisies, which represent innocence. Rumi can be a cute and fluffy bunny just as much as she can be super fierce and I love her to death. This story also marks my beginning of writing for characters other than Bakugou! I will be posting them on this blog. If there’s anything you’d like to see, lmk! (♡´౪`♡)

Thank you so much to everyone in the server for this wonderful experience! I had so much fun and I can’t wait for the next one!

*｡Collab Masterlist *｡

--Full art piece--

“Let’s go, let’s go! Don’t tell me you’re all tuckered out already!”

“Rumi, you gotta- oh damn, my legs are on fire! What is with this hill?!”

Coming to a stop as you pulled yourself up onto a boulder jetting out of the hillside, you flopped to sit onto your butt, rubbing your burning thigh vigorously. It was a miracle that you had even made it this far, your body not exactly used to these physically challenging hikes that your girlfriend just loved to drag you on. They were easy for her, considering that she was not only one of the top pro heroes in the country, but her quirk gave her incredibly strong legs and just overall physical strength. Her bunny legs allowed her to hop over any difficult obstacle, but you? All you could do was drag yourself along, barely keeping up with her by the skin of your teeth.

“Don’t be a wimp! You’re almost there!” Squatting down at the edge of her current perch, Rumi had that typical wicked and expectant grin on her face, a few loose strands of her white hair falling around her forehead and cheeks. “You got this, Carrot!”

“Carrot… Out of all nicknames, why did you have to pick that one.” With a huff, you pulled yourself up to your feet, using the roots and rocks to help you up the steep incline.

“Oh, because I could just eat you up, of course!” Rumi gave a teasing scrunch of her nose, one of her long rabbit ears giving a twitch in satisfaction of her response. You, however, immediately grew embarrassed, losing your footing. Scrambling to catch yourself, you got secure again before turning your glare up towards her, your face burning fiercely as she laughed at your reaction. She had a talent for making you so embarrassed you could barely stand it, but really, who could blame you?

Rumi was witty and intelligent. Confident and strong. Beautiful and caring. There wasn’t an ounce of timidness in her, which is not what people would expect when they hear the word ‘rabbit’. They would think quiet, reserved, innocent, fearful, and adorable. She was adorable, to be sure, but none of those other qualities showed themselves. Actually, they showed themselves in you.

Before you had met Rumi, you were very shy, easily overwhelmed and lacking in confidence. And still, somehow, this bright and extravagant woman had taken great interest in you, building you up higher and higher until you were finally beginning to see the sun for the first time in so many years. She pushed you to better yourself, to grow stronger and happier in your own skin, and although what she encouraged was hard, it was worth every moment and struggle.

Even if she could make you so flustered you’d want to go hide under a rock sometimes.

“Rumi! Stop that, don’t try to embarrass me while I’m climbing, I could fall!”

“You dumbass, ya think I’d let you fall? Never!” When you finally got close, Rumi reached down and took hold of your forearm, waiting until you got your own grip on hers before she helped to hoist you up. Her effortless strength astounded you as always, but you didn’t have much time to admire it, as she began to move down the past the instant you were steady on your feet. “C’mon, Carrot, move that tush!”

Sighing heavily in exhaustion, you forced your burning legs to walk forward, wiping your dirt stained hands on your similarly dirtied khaki shorts. “We’re almost to a resting point, right?”

“Yes. There’s a nice little clearing here, we can take a break!” Rumi lifted her arms up over her head, giving a drawn out and satisfied groan as she stretched. Nestled at her lower back, her white fluffy tail puffed out and shook in the same moment, bringing a smile to your lips. She was just so incredibly perfect, and you couldn’t help but feel so lucky.

After walking for a while in silence to enjoy the sounds of nature, Rumi came to a stop, starting to maneuver her way through the trees and brush. “We have to go off the path a bit. Watch out for spiders ‘n shit. And stinging nettle. I’m not gonna rub that ointment all over your body if you fall in it again!”

Remembering the painful experience of falling face first into a batch of stinging nettle the last time you went hiking, you were sure to observe your surroundings thoroughly before following her. The brush and twigs scratched and poked your legs uncomfortably, but your thick hiking boots helped you to trudge through it without much problem. When you finally breached the edge of the forest into the clearing, you had to squint a bit from the brightness of the morning sun, bringing a hand up to shield your eyes.

When your eyes finally adjusted, you found yourself standing at the edge of a large field of wildflowers and tall grass, which swayed with the cool spring breeze. It felt so heavenly against your hot and sweaty skin, and the brilliant view of the hills and trees in the distance brought a smile to your lips. Being out in the wilderness wasn’t exactly your favorite thing, but you could admit that it truly was beautiful.

“How’s this for a resting spot, eh?” Rumi quite literally knocked you back into reality with a rough, playful nudge to your side, grinning up at you. “Will this do, your highness?”

“Hey, don’t patronize me like that! I get tired, I don’t have thighs of steel like you do.” You took her hand tenderly in yours as she grabbed it, your fingers lacing instinctively.

“Excuses! C’mon, let’s sit under that tree, it has shade.” Leading you forward as always, Rumi nearly had a skip in her step, her white hair bobbing in its high, messy ponytail. The tree that was chosen was a lonely one, growing out in the field alone. With all the extra room, the roots were large and snaked in and out of the ground like tentacles, and lush green leaves were at full bloom. It was comfortable and beautiful.

Shrugging off your pack, you rested it up against the tree trunk next to Rumi’s, pulling your water bottle out of the side pocket to take a healthy swig. “This really is a nice area, Rumi. How’d you find it?” Sitting down in the grass beside her, you offered her the water bottle, which she took.

“I’ve been hikin’ this trail awhile. It’s challenging, so not a lot of losers try to take it, only those that are strong enough.” After taking a sip of water, Rumi leaned her head back, squeezing the bottle so water trickled lightly onto her face and top of her head. “It is warm today, though! Especially for being spring.”

“Ah, well I can relate to those losers, I shouldn’t be on this hill either-- ACK, hey!” Suddenly, you were sprayed in the face with water, perpetrated by a very annoyed bunny.

“Don’t belittle yourself like that! Be proud, you killed that fucking hill!”

Grumbling from defeat, you ran your hand down your face to wipe the water away, glowering at your lover as she glared right back up at you with a pout that boarded on adorable. Calming down, you smiled, nodding in agreement. “Ah, sorry, sorry. You’re right. I should be proud of myself.”

“You should! My baby isn’t a loser.” Leaning up, Rumi placed a rough kiss against your cheek, her hand pressing against your other to make sure you couldn’t flee. You’d never want to, of course, so you let her punish you with the kiss, which was followed by a much more tender one before she set you free.

Smiling, you turned your attention to the grass around your legs, which was peppered with daisies and dandelions. You felt so calm and at peace in the silence of nature, and with your lover by your side, you were feeling quite… soft. That’s the only way you could describe your current emotions, so you soaked in it for a while, leaning back and supporting yourself with your hands.

After a while of peace, you leaned forward again to give your arms a rest, turning your attention back to the flowers around you. Carefully, you began to pluck the daisies out of the ground, making sure to keep their stem long. As if in a trance, you slowly began working on winding the stems of the flowers together, growing too focused on your work and the rustling of the wind to notice that you were being watched closely. In fact, you were so startled by Rumi’s voice that you jumped, nearly crushing your delicate flower arrangement in surprise.

“What’cha makin’ there, Carrot?”

“Erm… uh, a flower crown. I guess?” You brought both ends of the strip of flowers together to check the size, finding that it still wasn’t quite long enough to fit an adult head. “I used to make them as a kid. It’s been a while since I’ve been near so many daisies.”

With another sly smile, Rumi leaned against your side, resting her head on your shoulder. “Oooh, how grossly cute and sweet! Should I start calling you Baby Carrot?”

“W-what?! No, no, don’t do that, you’re gonna make me want to puke. Why don’t you call me something normal like… babe or hun.”

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy!” After giving you a playful nudge to the arm, Rumi turned her attention to the flowers around you both, plucking a daisy from its stem and bringing it up to her nose. “Y’know, for such a cute little flower, they have an awful smell. But damn, they’re tasty.” To your horror, Rumi chomped the entire bloomed flower head off the stem, making you yelp in disgust and cover your mouth.

“Rumi! That’s a wildflower! You can’t just eat it!”

“Hm?” Rumi looked up at you curiously, batting her long lashes in confusion. “I eat flowers all the time. I love their taste! They aren’t bitter to me at all. Restaurants sell them!”

“Y-yeah, but baby, they wash them first at least…” You felt your stomach churn as she picked up another flower, dousing it with water from your bottle. “Rumi! Don’t be a smart ass!”

“What, this one’s not for me!” Smirking, she held the now soggy and dripping flower up to your lips, making you cringe backwards with a sour expression. “Open up!”

“No way!” You covered your mouth with your hand, knowing that she would shove it in at the first opportunity. “There’s no way I’m eating a flower! At least not one that hadn’t been cleaned or anything properly! You have the stomach of a rabbit, you can handle it, I can’t!”

“What, you scared of getting worms?!” She poked you on the nose with the flower, leaning more against you. “You won’t get anything that’ll kill you!”

“I would, I just know it!” With a final wave of your hand, Rumi took the flower away, tossing it over her shoulder and back into the grass. “You wasted it?”

“Putting water on it made it soggy, I ain’t gonna eat that! Hey, show me how to make one of these!” Scooting around to face you, Rumi gazed down curiously at the still unfinished crown in your lap. “This shit is stupid; it has to be easy!”

“Well, it’s kind of hard, you have to be pretty gentle with the flowers. Here,” You plucked four daisies with a long stem, handing them to her before you plucked two more of your own. With detailed instruction, you showed her exactly how to twist and wind the stems, but you could see that she was already struggling with the delicate procedure. The frustrated pout was permanently plastered on her fair face, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowed. Still, she was trying and as focused as she could be.

“How the hell are you doing that so perfectly?!” Rumi eventually snapped, leaning over you a bit to really see your almost finished crown up close. “Look at that! It almost looks fake!”

Laughing softly, you finished off by connecting the two ends of the crown together, holding it up a bit to look at it clearly in the sun. “I told you, I’ve done this before. It’s not that big of a deal, babe. Here,” Turning to face her, you plopped the flower crown onto her the top of her head between her ears, making them flatten out backwards in immediate embarrassment and the tickling of the flowers against the sensitive skin.

Cheeks flushing dark, Rumi scoffed, glaring up at you as she resisted the urge to reach up and rip it off. “Get this thing off of me, I’m not some damn fairy!”

“Aw, but you look so adorable with it on.” You couldn’t resist the wide smile on your lips, especially as Rumi only grew more flustered, her ears snapping up in agitation and making the flower crown bend a bit, though it didn’t fall from her head. “It just makes you look so cute and innocent!”

“I’m not!” Rumi scooted herself closer so that she was sitting right up against your crossed legs, letting hers rest on either side of your hips. “Call me cute and innocent again and I’ll make you regret it!” As if it were a punishment, Rumi reached up and plopped her sloppy excuse for a flower crown onto the top of your head. The instant it landed, it broke apart, showering you with crumpled daisies. Unable to help it, you began to laugh, which only grew harder as Rumi began to rage and stutter. “Dammit! Fucking flowers! This is why I just eat the damn things! Stop laughing at me, Carrot!”

Covering your mouth, you gave a defeated shake of your head, holding your other hand up in defense. “I’m sorry, Rumi, it was just too funny! And so cute!”

Before you could even find the time to react, you were tackled down into the grass, immediately smothered by the feral animal before you. Latching onto her instinctively, you were at her mercy as she gripped your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips to pucker, even as your laughter continued.

“I told you! You call me cute, you’re gonna die! I-” Suddenly, the flower crown slipped off the top of her head and onto your face, framing it perfectly. The shock silenced you immediately, staring up at Rumi in surprise. She was just as perturbed as you were, but after a moment her wonder broke into a grin, chuckling as she released your cheeks. “Look who’s all cute and innocent now! Ya dork.”

Not bothering to remove the crown, you smiled softly, reaching up to caress Rumi’s cheeks tenderly. “No one in this entire world is cuter than you, baby.”

“Says the person with a flower crown on their face and daisies stuck in their hair. Hey!”

Rumi’s ears parted again as you took the crown off your face, placing it carefully on her head again to where it wouldn’t fall. This time, instead of getting angry, Rumi’s cheeks flushed again, and a cheeky smile stretched across her lips. “You aren’t gonna give up, are ya?”

“Never. Besides, innocence is a great look for you. Just please don’t eat anymore daisies.”

“Nah, flowers aren’t all that appetizing. I think I’m in the mood for some Carrot, instead.”

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #rumi #usagiyama rumi #miruko #mirko #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #miruko x reader #rumi x reader #personal #collab

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jamiedc-they-them · 4 years

Text

Proof Not Necessary (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: “Could you possibly write an agents of shield x reader where reader is still younger then everybody but they were already an agent before daisy got on the team so during the TRACKS episode they’re with fitz and Skye so when they go to Quinn’s house they’re the one that goes to look for the briefcase and is the one that ends up being shot? I love your writing”

Skye hadn’t slept yet; Coulson, who was beside her, had just fallen into that state. She knew, logically, that she should. That she should rest after the few days she had been through. She couldn’t, though. Not while you rested.

Sure, they’d done what they’d done. But you still hadn’t opened your eyes yet. So, it wasn’t over yet.

Despite Simmons’ words of assurance. Despite how much she trusted her friend and how relieved she was to hear the words she said. It wasn’t enough. Despite how your hear rate continued to make the machine beep; despite how it calmed her to know her friend in the bed was still alive. It wasn’t enough.

So, she waited. She’d wait as long as she needed to for you to wake up. For you to be alive and proving that to the world. As, in her and the team’s eyes, that was all you needed to prove.

You were young, one of the youngest agents in SHIELD history. Sure, some of the other agents teased you for it. But, for the most part, other agents and teachers found it kind of inspiring for someone as young as you were to become a fully fledged agent of SHIELD.

That was a while ago now, as now you sat on a plane that flew you from place to place. But it was more than that, it was a place that was like home to you; the place had beds and food whenever you wanted it. Ironically, it was more stable than your life before SHIELD.

Coulson had learned about your life; your uneasy dynamic with a shit family and how it snowballed into your need to be the best. To prove yourself even once proven. He saw it in the way you wanted Ward to teach you despite him already teaching Skye (not that she minded, of course. It was nice to have a friend to train with and talk shit about Ward with behind his back, even if in a joking way).

He saw it in the way you went and saw May after every mission and sat with her in the cockpit and asked about what the buttons did. You seemed genuinely interested in learning how to pilot. Sometimes, Skye would join you and just sit with you both, listening to her rattle off what everything did as you watched with a happy smile and interest in your gaze.

It was the way you tried to understand the words Fitzsimmons were saying. You actually tried to get it, to grasp it. He found that admirable, if not a little heart-breaking.

You seemed to want to dip your toes in everything and try and find a way to be good at it.

What he saw, though, was someone who was close to burnout. Someone who, if nothing was going to be done to stop on your accidental path of self-destruction, would end in something akin to that just on a larger scale. He knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Y/N, thank you for coming,” Coulson said with a warm smile as you walked into his office. You carried yourself with nervousness, arms folded and eyes meeting his then darting around for a moment, “It’s alright, you aren’t in trouble.” He assured you as he gestured to the seat opposite him.

You took it, “What’s going on?” You asked him in a quiet voice.

“You seem more tired lately,” He said; you sighed at his words, knowing where this was likely going, “I know you’re up reading more of Fitzsimmons’ books. And that’s great that you’re interested. It’s just…I’m worried about you. You’re pushing yourself too hard. You’re a really good agent. I just don’t want you to burn yourself out trying to learn everything.” He said, gently warning you.

“I appreciate the concern, sir. But I’ll be ok, really. I’ll take it easier. But, I’m ok.” You told him. He desperately wanted to believe your words. But, part of him told him that you weren’t going to listen, “Besides, I might be good. But I’m not a great agent.” There it was.

As you left, he sighed. That was what he was afraid you were going to say.

It had been a few days since then, and you ere going after Ian Quinn. His company was moving something by train. A train you were going to infiltrate by going undercover. You had only had one sting undercover, that being when you and Skye infiltrated a party that brought you face to face with the man himself.

“May and Ward, you’re front and centre. Once we locate the package, you’ll tag it with a tracker. Skye, Y/N, Fitz, you’ll be running communications. After the package is tagged, we’ll follow it to Quinn.” Coulson started to tell everyone their jobs, when you spoke up.

“Wait, what?” Everyone paused and looked at you, “Why am I going with them? I’m not a hacker or comms person, I trained at the academy like Ward,” you looked at your two friends, “No offense.” You added, worried that they would take it as such.

“It’s ok.” Skye said with a smile.

“None at all.” Fitz assured you. You then looked to Coulson.

“Look, Y/N, I know you don’t like it. But they need someone watching their backs. They aren’t as well trained as you are in combat.” Coulson told you his reasoning. With it, you felt a little embarrassed by your outburst.

“Think about it this way,” Skye said, nudging your shoulder with her arm as she saw your blush at your wrongdoing, “It’s a bonding exercise. We get to team up again, anyway.” You smiled at your friend; you had never really figured out how she managed to turn a negative of yours into a positive like that. But you were thankful either way.

“Ok.” You agreed.

After that, the plan was settled.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had to get away from your family. It was a toxic environment, so you managed to get yourself into the academy. You had done quite well, had a spirit and a fight in you the teachers saw and used to keep you going when the going got tough.

“Whose that?” Coulson asked Maria Hill as he saw you kick another trainee’s ass. You were the one against the group, and you were holding yourself well. You weren’t perfect, some moves weren’t pulled off great and you got hit once or twice.

Other than that, though, you were doing well.

“That’s Y/N Y/L/N. Rough family, came here to be someone.” She answered, having recently reread your file.

“They’re good.” Coulson commented, his friend nodded at this words.

“They are.”

You passed by a pissed off May and apathetic looking Ward as you and your two friends made your way to your seats. You sat down, Skye letting you get the window seat and her sitting next to you. Fitz sat opposite you.

“You nervous?” He asked you. Skye answered his question.

“Just ready for this all to be over. Ready to get Quinn” She said, looking up at the Scotsman.

“Me too,” Fitz said in agreement before he looked over his shoulder and then back to you both, “So, are we British or American?” Fitz asked.

“Does that matter?” Skye questioned.

“Well, we’re traveling together. We should at least be from the same country,” Fitz reasoned, “How’s your Scottish accent?”

“I don’t know. You tell me how great it is, laddie.” Skye said in an awful accent. Fitz sighed as he looked to you.

“How do you think?” You asked; his eyes widened a little at your pretty decent attempt at it.

“American, then. That’s a better idea.” Fitz said in an almost perfect spot on accent.

“Oh! That was really good.” Skye aid, impressed.

“I used to watch a lot of American TV growing up. Some of it’s quite good. Lots of nice teeth.” Fitz said, you smiled but shook your head at his words.

“Oh, here we go. Follow my lead.” Skye said as she pulled you up with her. She stood up and stopped the innocent staff member.

“Excuse me. Do you speak English?” She asked.

“Of course. How may I be of service?” He asked; he seemed nice and friendly. For once, it didn’t seem like he was just because of his job.

“Can you recommend a restaurant in downtown Zagreb?” Skye asked as Fitz stood up to sell the idea of them being a couple more.

“Someplace affordable. With big portions.” He said.

“You are looking for something romantic?” The staff member asked.

“Yes, please.” She pressed a kiss on the side of Fitz’s face, “We are celebrating our six-month anniversary with a whirlwind trip all over Europe. Brought my sibling with me so they could get the know each other.” The member looked at you both with what looked to be genuine happiness for the two.

“Well technically, we met six months ago, but he didn’t ask me out till last month. So, our official one-month anniversary isn’t until next Saturday. –”

“Sunday. Saturday.” Fitz said, quickly correcting his misstate.

Skye walked towards the member, “I think he found me intimidating.” She said as she stole the keys from him.

“Young love, so…confusing.” The member said, trying to find the right words.

“Is it?”

Skye opened the door which Fitz held for you as you all entered a more secluded part of the train, “You go a little flustered back there.” Skye teased her friend as you all walked to a table.

“What, when you kissed my cheek like my grandmother? Good going. Really selling our relationship there,” Fitz said as he put his bag down, “U have a device that couldn’t done those things –”

“Kiss you on the cheek?” Skye laughed at your words while Fitz glared a you playfully, “No, broken the lock and al that.” He told you both.

“What? Why wouldn’t you tell us that?” Skye asked.

“I’m always the gadget guy. Maybe sometimes I wanna do things with my bare hands.”

“You make the gadgets with your bare hands.” Skye had a point.

“Just allow me these rare moments of self-pity, ok?” You both smiled at him, “You’re the least supportive girlfriend and supportive girlfriend’s siblings I’ve ever had.” Fitz told you both.

“We’ll try better next time.” You said, playfully.

“Comms are live. Coulson? Simmons? You in position?” Skye asked her two friends who were elsewhere in the train.

“Yes. Just waiting on May’s signal.” Coulson answered. To you, he sounded bored, almost.

Jemma and Coulson did their part of the job, that being spilling what looked to be ashes onto him. However, it most likely wasn’t. Whatever it was, it was enough for May to use goggles to detect and start making her on the rooftop of the train as she followed the footsteps.

“Great, we see what you see.” Skye said to May over the comms as you all watched her screen. Well, you did as Skye typed more on her keyboard.

“Alright May, Cybertek cases are usually lined with tungsten polymer to prevent scanning. It should appear black on your infrared.” Fitz told his team-mate.

She continued walking, until her glasses pinged, and she saw a black case. “Bingo.” Fitz said as he pointed to it, telling May where it was exactly.

So far, nothing had come up. So, you were pretty much in the background as Fitz and Skye did what they did on their end.

“I wish we had more time to take in the scenery.” Fitz admitted as he looked out the dusty window that you had to try and do that with, “Three peaks of Lavaredo. They’re supposed to be stunning.” He told you both.

“Any chance what’s in there could be an 0-8-4?” Skye asked, looking at you both.

You and Fitz shared a look as you shrugged, “This? No. We may not know what it is, but we o know that it came from Cybertek.” Fitz answered for you both.

“Right. Unknown origin. The one we found in Peru was a machine, but they don’t always have to be that, right?” She continued to ask.

“No, it can be all sorts of things; weapons, spacecrafts, energy sources. Apart from unknown origin, they’re dangerous.” You answered your friend. She looked at you with a wide-eyed puppy look, but it seemed to hold some fear to it.

“Right….” She drifted off, looking away from you.

“Hey, whatever this package turns out to be, we’ll deal with it.” Fitz assured Skye.

“Just like always.” You added. “We’ve been through worse.” Skye smiled a little at your own assurance.

“Seems that you’ve got another skill.” She teased you for. You only rolled your eyes.

“Hey, have either of you ever heard of an 0-8-4 being a person?” Again, you and Fitz looked at each other and both shrugged.

“No. Although I suppose it’s possible. Hate to meet the guy.”

“Fitz.” You cocked your head to the side as you gave him a disappointed look. Despite you being the youngest of the team, you could muster up a disappointed sibling look when you wanted to.

It was then that all electronics went down. As you all got up to leave and warn the others, a Cybertek guard entered and fired at you all.

“GET DOWN!” You yelled, pushing your friends down behind some crates as you went behind another and sprung out at him. You attacked him, trying to disarm him, but got knocked to the ground.

Fitz fired at him as Skye pushed a create into him and punched him. They did what they could, but they too ended up on the floor. As Skye grabbed his gun, he pulled a grenade.

“We’ve been made!” Jemma yelled as she ran to you.

“Oh, bloody hell!” She cursed as she ran to the man and pulled him towards herself to take the explosive. They both fell down.

Skye ran over to her friend as Fitz helped you up, “Are you ok?” He asked. You only kept your eyes on your injured friend.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” Agent Coulson asked as he approached you; after your last fight he’d seen you have; he’d made up his mind.

“Yes, sir. How can I help you sir?” You asked, gulping a bit at having a legendary SHIELD agent approach you.

“It’s alright, you’re not in trouble.” He gestured to an empty seat, you nodded. He sat in it, “Saw your last results, you’re doing well. The youngest agent we’ve had, I think.” You nodded to confirm the last bit.

He then looked around your room, a pretty boring room with not a lot of personality to it, “Got to admit though, thought you would’ve added something to the place.” He admitted.

“Didn’t have many things to bring from home. So, what I have is here. Not many friends here either.” Both comments made himself sadden at them.

He turned to you with a smile, “I have a proposition for you,” You nodded, “I have a team I’m building, and I think you’d be great on it. But you’ll make your room there a little livelier.” You nodded instantly at the offer; shaking his hand enthusiastically.

===============================================================================

Fitz realised that the thing that knocked them out was the same thing that was in the night-night gun. As you all moved Simmons to a more comfortable place. Fitz placed a spare night-night gun in her grasp as you put the man that had hurt her in a box and shot him a few more times for hurting your friend.

The train then stopped, “I’ve looked everywhere. May, Ward, and Coulson are gone.” Skye told you both.

“What about Cybertek?” Fitz asked, Skye shook her head. That meant one thing, you were the only ones left on the team to complete this mission now.

You heard trucks outside. You ran to the window, seeing Cybertek guards holding the package. They had it, and you were the only ones who could take if off them and stop them from whatever they wanted to do with it.

“What do we do? We’re the only ones left.” Fitz said to you both with fear.

“Do you have an extra tracker?” Skye asked, plan already forming in her mind.

“Of course.” Fitz said, like it would be obvious.

“Then we follow them.” They heard a gun click; they saw you reloading yours. You looked to them as you inserted the clip and made sure the weapon was loaded before you spoke.

“We do this, I’m leading it. You do what I say, when I say it, got it?” Your older friends watched you, “Do you got it?” You repeated, they nodded silently.

“Good, then let’s go.”

“Which way?” You asked Skye as you continued to lead your friends, they followed in a similar position to your own; a slight crouched one.

“Next left.” Skye told you, you nodded as you then paused by the end of the bush, the other two stopping as well.

“There it is.” You said as you fully crouched down as another vehicle arrived. The three of you snuck father into the compound, hiding behind another bush to get a view of who had arrived. As it turned out, it was the man you were looking for.

“Coulson was right. Cybertek led us to Quinn.” Fitz said as he got out of the car and looked around with his normal cocky look.

“Activate the tracker. Let them know we’re here.” Skye told Fitz. Fitz did just that, but he then saw her look.

“You want to go in?” Skye nodded at her friend’s observation. She then looked to you, but you checked your ICER one more time before shaking your head at her. Your intentions were clear.

“What? No –” She started to say.

“Skye, I get that you want to prove yourself, to show that the training has been worth it,” It was pretty hypocritical, “But, you both need to stay together on this.” You got up, but Skye pulled you back behind cover.

“What if it’s a trap?” She asked, worried for your fate if you went in alone.

“Then I’ll deal with it. Look, if it goes south, you and Fitz regroup with the others and run,” She looked at you like she wanted to argue, “Skye, do you trust me?” You asked her.

“Of course, I do,” She said without a beat, “But, wouldn’t you stand a better chance with backup in there.” She had a point.

“Maybe, but I can do this. Trust me.” You didn’t give them a chance as you ran towards the house, leaving the two friends to watch you with a worried look.

You shot the guard in front of the house and made your way in. You took a breath to try and calm your nerves as you continued into the house. You had keep in control, the others were counting on you. Ward had given you some tips on how to control your breathing. So, why wasn’t it working?

“Y/N, this is Skye. She’s joining our team.” Coulson said as you entered the holo-com room and saw a new woman in the room along with your new team-mates. You had been excused with a family matter and returned soon after.

She gave you a small smile, one you returned. You then looked to Coulson and he saw the tears that started to threaten to fall, “Do you want to talk about it in private?” he asked you softly. You shook your head.

You looked down and talk a breath as the others watched. Skye, Fitz, and Jemma watched you with concern and pity. While Ward watched you with just pity. He knew all about having a shitty family.

“They revoked my last name. So, uh, yeah….could’ve gone better.” You said as you swallowed back the tears now.

The room fell into a silence as they digested what you had said. Despite having just met you, Skye felt a pull; maybe it was because you were younger than her, maybe because she too didn’t have a family and would feel as crushed as you probably felt at being told you had none anymore.

“Can I,” You cleared your throat to get rid of the tremble of it, “Can I go to my bunk, please?” Coulson nodded and let you go on your way. However, he then caught Skye’s look of plead.

“Ok.” He nodded; the woman left after you. Coulson then looked at the others, all who looked saddened at the news.

“Bastards.” Ward damned them.

“That’s awful.” Jemma said, hurt and thinking of what it would be like if it had happened to her.

“Who does that to their own child?” Fitz asked, thinking back to his own parental (father) issues. Jemma placed a hand over her best friend’s one in comfort. He squeezed hers to try and give her some as well.

Skye knocked at your door, “Come in.” A small, but sniffling voice said. You sounded so innocent in that moment. Skye gulped as she opened the door.

“Hey.” She said, awkwardly playing with her fingers.

You looked up at her, “Hey.” You said, trying a smile but failing.

She pointed to your bed, you nodded She sat next to you, “I’m sorry your family did that to you.” She meant the words.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later.” You were brokenly honest.

“Still, you don’t deserve it.”

“Nothing was ever good enough for them. Whole reason why I joined them was to prove to them that I was.”

“Hey,” She turned your head, so you looked at her, “They weren’t enough for you. No one deserves that.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You asked, quietly. You had just met her after all.

“Because, I don’t have a last name. And if I found my family and found them to be like yours were, I’d want someone to help me through it.”

You continued down, finding a basement. Entering it, you were greeted with a pod. Going to the pod, you saw an occupant inside.

Not just any occupant, though.

“Mike.” You breathed out in shock at him being stuck in there. You were glad he survived, just not that this had been what he had become in the process.

“Ah-ah.” You turned, only to then be pinned against the pod by one of Quinn’s people. The man stole your weapon and held it back at you.

“So much for being the best agent, right?” He asked, seemingly knowing how desperate you were for that to be true.

“Well, I’m sure you’re wondering what’s gonna happen here with your friend?” He asked, not waiting for your answer and only pulled Mike out of the pod. You watched silently, but fearfully.

He asked Mike about orders and gave him a robotic leg to replace the one he’d lost. The man himself looked like he didn’t want to comply with those orders but had no choice in the matter.

Quinn then pointed a gun at him, asking if whether or not Mike would hurt him if he tried to hurt the man. Mike denied it, telling him that those were the orders from the Clairvoyant.

“Mike,” He turned to you, “I have no idea what’s happening. But what I do know is that we need to get out of here. But I’ll need your help to do that, ok?”

Quinn, in response, placed the gun in his hand, “What if I told you to hurt them?” You sucked in a breath at the barrel staring at you. You had been in this situation before, but it never meant you weren’t scared of it.

“You know, to kill them, will you?” He asked, growing a devilish smile, “What would agent Coulson do if we hurt the agent, he grabbed the moment he could? The agent so young, yet so full of promise. What if he lost that person?” He taunted you, making eye contact with you.

“Those aren’t my orders.” Mike said, aiming the gun away from you and giving it back to Quinn, “They aren’t who I’m meant to kill.” He said, and only started to walk off the next moment.

“Mike, wait!” You would’ve been more careful had you not been relying on instinct and empathy. You weren’t relying on your training like usual.

As you went after him, Quinn grabbed you and pulled the trigger the next moment. You stood in shock, looking at him with such an expression as your voice trembled. No words came out, just unsteady breathes as you fully processed what had just happened.

He’d shot you. For once, though, he looked to have some pity for doing it. He approached you quickly, grabbing you and trying to shush you; whether for comfort or so the others didn’t hear you, you weren’t sure.

He fired again, a second shot entering your body and making you gasp. He slowly lowered you to the floor, gently resting your body on the ground, “I’m sorry it came to this, Y/N. But I had my orders too.” With that, he left you to what was sure to be your end.

“Oh, thank god,” Skye said in relief when the others showed up; she quickly gave Jemma a hug, happy that her friend was ok.

“Where’s Y/N?” Coulson asked, noticing that you were missing from the group.

“They went inside.” Fitz said in stress, knowing it had been too long now for you to in there for.

“We’ll find them, Fitz.” Ward assured his friends, just hoping he could make good on his promise to his friend.

Ward burst through the doors first, expertly shooting two guards with his ICERs. Skye was behind him, holding her own. She let her adrenaline drive her as she shot another guard coming down the stairs; his body rolled down the rest.

It was then that Coulson found Quinn, punching him and pressing him into the table, “Where are they? You sick son of a bitch!” He yelled, letting his anger fuel him in this moment.

“Pretty bad idea sending in your youngest, agent Coulson. Too bad they won’t be able to see how much you guys actually care.” Coulson looked to Skye, who nodded. She ran off to find you.

“Y/N? Y/N?!” She yelled, becoming desperate to find you now. She had been in almost every room. All except for one. This one was the last one she had to check. She just hoped you were behind it.

She opened the door, aiming her weapon to check for anyone; she paused, however, when she saw you on the floor, eyes closed and bleeding out.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, no.” She said as she ran over to you and hovered over your body, “COULSON!” She yelled out as she then crouched next to you. She wasn’t a doctor, but she could tell you’d already lost a lot of blood. You weren’t good, at all.

She placed her hand over one of your wounds, “Hey, Y/N. It’s Skye, can you hear me?” You didn’t give a response. Her breath picked up more as the seconds went by before Coulson burst into the room himself, followed by the others.

“Get them in the pod!” Jemma ordered; they all did without a second. As she pressed different buttons, your other friends all watched with bated breath as nothing happened for a moment. Then another. Then another.

They all let out a breath of relief as you let out your own breath, a gasp for air.

They knew they weren’t out of the woods yet, but this was something to keep their morale up. You were alive.

“I did it.” Skye cheered as she managed to knock you on the floor and be victorious. You were both out of breath. Ward watched you both with an impressed look.

“Yeah, you did.” You said in your own breath and took the hand she had offered down to you. She lifted you up but saw your expression of one of annoyance.

“What is it?” She asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Nothing, I’m glad your getting better.” You meant your words. But she got the other part to them. The unspoken part.

“Hey, that means we’re getting to the same level. And that’s a pretty good level.” She said to try and give some comfort.

“There’s always going to be on above though. Another level to reach.” You know you sounded petty, but it was better to get it off your chest in that moment then keep it sealed up.

“There always will be.” Ward said, in light warning, “You just do what you can to improve. You find your own next level. You don’t look at someone else for it. If you do, though, look at friend. Their there to help you get better.”

“What are you saying?” Coulson asked the nurse that had entered the room; she had just told them that they would need to decide on whether or not to let you go or put you on life support. In short, Quinn had pretty much killed you.

“I’m saying you need to contact their family.” At that, his heart broke more. He remembered what your blood family had done.

He looked back at the others, all seeing the same crestfallen expression on their faces. He then looked back at the nurse and said his next words with as much conviction as he possibly could.

“We’re their family.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It might not be the best option, but it was the only option they had if they wanted to keep you alive. The option where it would mean you coming out the other side and being ok.

So, they all got ready to siege the place and find what they wanted, “You sure your ready for this?” Ward asked Skye as he passed her a pistol.

“Little nervous, but we have to do this for Y/N.” She answered; Ward nodded, satisfied with the answer.

“Alright, here we go.” Coulson said, leading the way to the base, “My name is Phil Coulson, I’m an agent of SHIELD. We have an agent in need of critical medical assistance.” He said, but he did not receive an answer. It was only the wind blowing that he got in return.

“Well, time to go say hello.” Garret said.

They were in, walking through the entrance and going down an elevator only to then come across a door. The door required Fitz to open it. The engineer did what was needed. As soon as they entered, however, they were met with gunfire.

“Cover me!” Ward ordered Skye after Coulson tried o get them to calm down. She nodded, raising up from cover and firing her weapon as Ward flanked the enemy, he gunned down two of them as the third was bleeding, but managed to get away.

They followed after him and found him bleeding out. Skye knelt down, “We’re looking for a drug, GH-325. It’s for my friend. Do you know where it is?” She asked.

“No….but I know about the timer.” He answered; but there was no malice to his words. It was a warning.

There were bombs that had been triggered to stop intruders from finding what was down here. Skye and Coulson shared a look, “Alright, Fitz; you start trying to find a way to deactivate the bombs. Skye and I will try and find the serum.” Fitz nodded, running back to Garret and Ward.

Coulson then looked to Skye, who mirrored his determination, “Let’s go save Y/N.”

The two agents ran down the corridor, coming into a lab and desperately searching for what they needed. They knew time was very close to running out; either they’d explode and be buried in here, or they would get there too late and you’d have passed on.

They couldn’t let either of those options come to pass.

“Here!” She yelled, holding up the serum you needed to survive.

“Get it back to Y/N, now.” Coulson ordered; Skye went to argue, “I’ll catch up with you, just make sure they survive.” Skye nodded, knowing they didn’t have much time to argue or waste. She ran out of the room, holding onto the serum as tight as she could as she ran through the doors that had then been blown open by the other three.

“Where’s Phil?” Garret asked; Skye stopped her running to turn to him.

“He told me to go, I’ve got what we need to save Y/N.” She rushed through her words, desperate to get back to you.

Garret nodded, “Get going then, sweetheart. I’ll go get him.”

She didn’t wait a second longer.

“Simmons!” She yelled to her friend, pretty much throwing her the serum. Luckily, Jemma had caught it and then grabbed a syringe, she filled it with the serum, and they followed her to you. This was it, the moment of truth.

“Please work…” Jemma said quietly, desperately hoping it would; Skye put her fisted hand to her moth in nervousness.

Jemma stuck the syringe in and pressed down.

“No, don’t inject them with it!” Coulson screamed as he came into the room in a flash. Jemma, however, had a tear fall as she answered him mournfully.

“It was this or lose them sir, what’s the harm it can do?” Her question was asked with a shake in her voice. She couldn’t bare the thought that she may have just signed your death warrant.

Your vitals spiked; you arched your back as you gasped. There wasn’t anything the others could do other than watch their friend who was clearly in pain; Jemma kept patting your hair and trying to shush you in an attempt at comfort. But, at this point, she was openly crying.

Finally, you stopped, and your vitals went back to normal. Everyone held their breathes as Jemma turned to them, “They’re ok.”

It was what had led to Skye having not slept. She just wanted you to open your eyes. To show to her that you were in fact alive. To show that, for once, she could have a happy ending.

They flickered for a moment, before fully opening and taking a moment to take the new environment in.

“Hey.” Skye said, drawing your eyes to meet her elated ones. She grabbed one of your hands in her to fully make herself believe that this wasn’t a dream.

Her friend was alive, and all was right with the world as of now.

“Hey.” You said in response, “I’m so sorry I did that. It was stupid of me.” You said, realising your error that led to you ending up in the bed.

“It was. But, you’re ok now. We can work on it.” She said, softly. You managed a smile, one she then returned.

You were alive, and now willing to stop looking for a new level to try and get to. Instead, you were going to do what you could with your friends to help save the world.

And try and make it right.

#agents of shield imagine #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d imagine #agents of shield x reader #daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson imagine

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

**CAUTION/TRIGGER WARNING: Mention (and Brief Description) of Nightmares; Mild Gore

Imagine noticing over breakfast one morning that Loki has been getting some serious dark circles lately. You figure it would be rude to point it out in front of everyone, so you wait until the kitchen clears out and you’re the only two around. (Giving it a second, of course. Between super soldiers, assassins, and a second Asgardian, there’s a chance of someone overhearing.)

“Hey, Loki? Are you... sleeping okay?”

“Perfectly,” he snaps. “Why?”

“Well... You just seem... I dunno, like maybe you might be just a little tired. Slightly.”

Loki glares at you. It’s a glare you haven’t seen in a while. Not quite the crazed fury of a madman seeking to rule Earth. Rather, a look that both warns against tresspassing yet also cries for help.

Meanwhile, your own expression softens. “Loki, what’s going on? You can tell me anything, and you can trust me with anything. I promise.”

He closes his eyes with a deep sigh, either wishing you wouldn’t nag him like this or thankful that you’re nagging him like this. “I’ve had some rather... tormenting thoughts lately. It’s getting difficult to rest.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You get an of-course-not look in response, but he tells you anyway. “I keep... thinking of all my past mistakes, where I’ve gone wrong, and... (Name), I would give so much to take it back.”

“Oh, Loki...” You had no idea. “Everyone here has screwed up somehow. And not in an innocent, whoopsy-daisy sort of way, either. We all have our pasts, our secrets... skeletons in the closet, so to speak. Stuff we wish we could take back, too.”

“But we can’t.” There’s something eerie about hearing him acknowledge it. Something that makes it hard to tell if he’s saying it for himself or for you.

You hop up to sit on the countertop. “Right, we can’t. But do you really want to? It hurts, but sometimes that’s how we learn best. Wouldn’t stick any other way.”

Loki groans, laying his forehead on your shoulder. “I’ve learned, I swear...”

“Hey.”

He looks back up.

“To be honest, I’m... glad it happened.”

“Why?”

You smile shyly. “We wouldn’t have met if it didn’t.”

It feels early, since you’ve only been dating for a few months, but you give him a chaste kiss.

“Just remember: you’re good. No matter what happened in your past, you’re choosing to be good now. You’re good, and I believe in you.”

Your words resonate with him, especially that night. Whenever he remembers Odin’s hurtful words, he chooses to focus on what you’ve told him instead.

“No matter what happened in your past, you’re choosing to be good now... I believe in you.”

Loki seems better rested the next morning, and thanks you for your help. Eventually, the dark circles fade and he’s back to being his usual, sharp-witted, mischievous self.

Time passes. The morning following your wedding day, you know something is wrong.

“Loki? Baby, look at me.”

He does, and you can tell it’s worse this time. He’s hurting even more than when you first asked.

“Did you not sleep well?”

“Do you honestly believe this is better? All the lives I took, all the destruction I caused... Do you honestly believe this between us is worth all that?”

“Well... yeah.” Your heart breaks a little. “Don’t you?”

Loki places a strand of hair behind your ear. “To be honest... you are worth so much more.” He sighs. “I don’t deserve you, (Name).”

Still, your brain sets off alarm bells.

“What kept you up last night? And don’t say me.”

He lays his head back down on his pillow. You must have struck a nerve. “Those thoughts... They’re back.”

“You didn’t give me much to work with before. What are the thoughts of?”

Loki describes flashbacks of the wrong choices he’s made, seeing images of everyone he’s failed, seeing the horror he’s caused. He tells you about his dreamlike images of New York in ruins, of Thor demanding “one good reason” not to kill him, of Thanos calling him a failure, of Odin saying he’s not good enough, of Frigga saying she had hoped for so much more for him...

“But last night, I saw you, too.”

Tears well in your eyes when he tells you of your own cameo.

“The house was on fire, and I couldn’t find you. So I followed your screams. When I saw you, I thought you were dead. But you looked up at me and asked where I had been and why...” He swallows. “You asked why I didn’t protect you, but I couldn’t answer. You... you said you had believed in me and I had let you down. I, I couldn’t... I didn’t say anything except ‘I know.’”

You snuggle closely to Loki, hoping to comfort him. You’re not sure you want to hear the rest, but you allow him to continue.

“You started to dissolve, like there was acid on your skin, and you cried and said it was my fault. All I could do was agree, because I knew it was true. And I... I couldn’t help you.”

“Is that when you woke up?”

Loki nods, fighting for composure.

You rub his back. “It’s just a nightmare, baby. I’m right here, still believing you’re good. Anyone who disagrees can take a hike for all I care. See? That got a smile out of you.”

“I still say I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop saying that.”

#Imagine #Angst #God of Mischief #Loki #Lover #Others #submission #taniismean #trigger warning #nightmares

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thetravelerwrites · 5 years

Text

Geyarajan (Gandharva)

Rating: Teen Relationship: Female Human/Male Gandharva Additional Tags: Exophilia, Gandharva, Childhood Sweethearts, Puppy Love Content Warnings: Blood, Broken Limb, Separation, Memory lapse Words: 4600

A commission for @floral-and-fine, who did the lovely artwork above of Geyarajan! An angsty story about childhood love that gets torn apart by family, race, and circumstance! Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

In Hinduism, the Gandharvas are male nature spirits and husbands of the Apsaras, the spirits of clouds and air. Some are part animal, usually a bird or horse. They have superb musical skills; they guard the Soma and make beautiful music for the gods in their palaces. Gandharvas are frequently depicted as singers in the court of the gods.

Gandharvas in the historic sense acted as messengers between the gods and humans; today they are depicted as imitators, cheaters, liars and those who have tricked themselves 'into being god'. In Hindu law, a gandharva marriage is one contracted by mutual consent and without formal rituals.

You couldn’t remember exactly how old you were, perhaps six or seven, when you first met Geyarajan. You’d heard singing in the forest as you played in the garden behind your house, and though you knew you shouldn’t go into the woods alone, you couldn’t ignore the draw of the sound. After maybe ten minutes, you stumbled upon a clearing wherein a boy was singing, though he was unlike any other child you’d ever met.

Your village was human only; beasts and monsters were not allowed to settle there. In fact, non-human merchants were discouraged from selling their wares in the area and non-human travelers weren’t welcome in the taverns or inns. In your short life, you’d only seen a person who wasn’t human maybe twice, and only in passing. You didn’t quite understand why, but you were a small child and didn’t think to question it.

Not until you met Geyarajan. When you first saw him, you were mesmerized by his music. You sat and listened as still as a statue, afraid of spooking him, except when he stopped singing, he looked right at you and smiled as if he’d been waiting for you to come. He hopped off the rock where he had been sitting, and you got a better look at him.

He wore no clothing, but from the waist down, he was all feathers. His legs were long and spindly, ending in three-toed claws like that of a purple heron. The feathers extended up his back to his large wings, heather-grey in color, which were folded at rest behind him.

His hair was long and falling around his shoulders in ringlets, the same heather-gray as his feathers. He had a four streaks of black, two on each side, running down his neck, one stripe down his arms to his wrists, the other down the inside of his shoulders and disappearing into the feathers near his hips. His skin was dark brown and his eyes were sharp in shape, amber-gold in color, and hawk-like.

Though he was much taller than you because of his long legs, in his face, he looked to be about your age, perhaps slightly older. He was slender and graceful in his movements, taking careful steps toward you as if not to scare you, though you didn’t think you could possibly be afraid of him.

“Aren’t you from the village?” He asked, his speaking voice as musical as his song suggested. “Won’t you be in trouble for coming into the woods? My parents say that humans are scared of the woods.”

“I’m not scared,” You said, puffing up. “Papa says I’m a big girl. I can go to the corner store all by myself now. I only came ‘cause I heard you singing.”

“Oh,” He said, frowning. “I must be too close, then. I should go.”

“Wait!” You reached out, grabbing his hand. “Stay and play with me, won’t you? What’s your name?”

“Geyarajan,” He replied, not attempting to break away from your grasp. “You’re the girl who lives in the house near the river, right? What’s your name?”

You told him. “How do you know me?”

“I’ve seen you sometimes,” He said, leading you to the rock where he was sitting before. There was a bushel of flowers laying there. He began to weave them into a ring. “When I fly above the town. I know you from the ribbons.” He tugged at the blue ribbon you wore in your hair, which matched your pristine dress. Your mother insisted on dressing you like a doll, always making you wear frilly dresses and putting ribbons in your hair.

“You can fly?” You whispered in awe.

“Well, sure,” He laughed, fluffing his wings a little. “These aren’t fake, you know. I have to fly pretty high, so the only thing I can see of you clearly is the ribbons.”

“Why do you fly so high?” You asked him.

“Mother says it’s too dangerous to fly too low over the town,” Geyarajan said. “She says the people don’t like us, that they’d be mean to us if they knew we lived in the forest next to them.”

“Oh. That’s a shame. If it’s dangerous, why don’t you move?”

“Our kind lived in these woods before those humans ever settled here,” He said, pointing toward the village. “Why should we have to leave?”

“That makes sense, I guess,” You admitted. “I don’t see people like you in town. It’s only humans. I don’t know why.”

“Mother and Father say it’s because humans hate us,” He said morosely, looking at his hands as he continued to weave the garland. “Do you hate us?”

“No!” You said. “You’re so pretty! Can I… Can I touch your wings? I’ve never met a person with wings before.”

He regarded you warily, but said, “Okay, but only for a minute. Mother says our wings are a sign of divinity, that they make us holy.”

“Divine? Like an angel?”

“What’s an angel?”

You tried to explain what an angel was to him, but he just looked confused.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Do you want to touch my wings or not?” He asked impatiently.

“Yes, yes!” You exclaimed. You reached out tentatively and ran your fingertips gently down his proffered wing. He watched you carefully, his hands stilling in their work.

“Wow,” You breathed. “It’s so hard to believe they’re real.”

“Well, they are,” He sniffed, eyeing you. “It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“Well, I’ve never met a human, but my parents said they’re all cruel and heartless. They call your kind monsters, but you seem nice.”

“I am nice,” You replied. “I’m friends with everyone in town. I want to be your friend, too. Can I call you Rajan?”

“Why?”

“It’s a nickname!” You said. “It means we’re friends.”

“Oh,” He replied. “Yeah, I guess so. Can I give you a nickname?”

“Sure!”

“Alright, how about…” He looked around for inspiration and his eyes fell on the flowers in his lap. There were wild daisies, coneflowers, purple poppies, blanket flowers, black-eyed susans, and blush-pink primroses. “What about Primrose?”

“I love it!” You said excitedly. “Primrose and Rajan.”

Rajan giggled.

“What’s funny?”

“Well, my whole name, Geyarajan, means ‘king of songs,’” He replied, finishing the crown of flowers and placing it on his head. “But Rajan just means ‘king.’”

You giggled too. “I like that! You can be the king of the primroses! It’ll be a kingdom just for us!”

“Sounds fun!” He said. “Let’s play Kings and Flowers, then!”

“That’s not a real game!”

“Is too! I just made it up!”

The two of you played until it started to get dark, then Rajan escorted you home. He stopped about thirty feet away from the treeline, where you could hear your mother calling.

“I can’t go closer,” He said, still wearing the flower crown. He took it off and placed it on your head. “You should run home now. I’ll watch you to make sure you stay safe.”

“Alright,” You said brightly, standing on your tip-toe to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you again soon!”

He blushed and touched his cheek, frozen. You laughed joyfully and ran back to the garden behind your house.

“There you are!” Your mother shouted as you came out from around the house. “Where have you been? Look at the state of your dress!” She fussed. “It’s ruined! Do you know how long it took me to sew that?”

“Just make me a normal dress, Mama,” You said. “A plain one I can play in.”

“Nonsense,” Your mother said, taking your hand. “I’ll not have my daughter wallowing in the muck like some street urchin. To the bath with you!”

As she dragged you along into the house, your lovely flower crown slipped from your head and floated away on the breeze.

“Oh, Mama, my crown!”

“Leave it,” She said.

“Oh, but it was--” You stopped short before saying a present. You didn’t want your mother asking from whom. You watched as it floated into the road and was trampled by a passerby. Sighing with disappointment, you followed your mother inside.

Geyarajan became your best friend from that day on. You had to be careful, though; you couldn’t go too deep into the forest for fear of dangerous creatures and he couldn’t get too close to the village, or he’d be seen and possibly captured by the townspeople. As such, you could only see each other once a week or so, and on the days you agreed to meet, often you’d sneak out to play for a few hours after bed.

Having a secret friend was thrilling. It made you feel special and important. He’d told you that he hadn’t told his parents about you, either, because he didn’t want them to be mad at him for getting so close to humans. It was as if the pretend kingdom the two of you built together was real, and you were the only two in it.

It didn’t take long at all for you to develop a crush on Geyarajan, and it seemed to be mutual. He always held your hand whenever the two of you walked together and you often gave him quick pecks on the lips to see the surprise and delight on his face. It was the pure, innocent love of childhood, and though your time together was limited, you were both happy.

Of course, secrets are never meant to last.

Time passed. One evening when you were eleven, after you’d snuck out to see him, the two of you were stargazing in a clearing, making up constellations, your fingers intertwined loosely.

“See there,” He said. “That’s the raven. It’s good luck.”

“Who says?” You asked, laughing.

“I say!” Rajan said. “I’m a king, aren’t I?”

“Oh, right,” You replied. “Papa calls that the eagle. And that’s the dog star.”

“Why do they call it the dog star?”

“I don’t know,” You said. “Tell me another one.”

He squinted. “I can’t see it all that well from here. I usually look at the stars from up in the trees. It’s harder to see them all clearly on the ground like this.”

“How high up do you go?”

“The top, obviously,” He said, sitting up and pointing straight up to a nearby oak tree. “The tallest, strongest branch. That’s the best place.”

“I’d be scared to go that high,” You said, shivering a little.

“I could help you,” He said. “I’d fly you up there.”

“Aren’t I too heavy?” You asked him skeptically. “I was the last time you tried to lift me.”

“That was a year ago! I’m much stronger now.” He hopped to his taloned feet and flexed his skinny arms. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Are you sure?” You asked as you took his hand.

“Come on, you trust me, right?”

You straightened up and smiled at him. “Yeah, of course I do.”

He grinned back. “I won’t be able to take off from the ground,” He said. “We’ll have to climb up a little ways so I can do a drop. I’m really good at those.”

You frowned at the thought, but since he knew way more about flying than you did, you didn’t argue. Swallowing down your nervousness, you followed him up the tree.

You hadn’t known how to climb a tree when you first met him; your mother had forbade such things. Geyarajan had decided immediately that it was inappropriate for anyone to be unable to climb a tree and taught you how to do it the second time you met. You got pretty scraped up the first few times, which you had a hard time explaining away. Now, you were an expert. You were even able to keep leaves and dirt off of your nightgown.

Of course, Geyarajan was much faster than you, since he’d been climbing trees before he could even walk. We was already on the branch he planned to launch from, waiting patiently for you to catch up. He wasn’t above heckling you, though.

“Are all humans as slow as you?” He teased. “I could be halfway to the coast by the time you get up here.”

You stopped for a moment to blow a raspberry at him. In the few seconds that you were distracted, you misstepped, your foot sliding out of your evening slipper and catching you off balance.

Geyarajan leapt, reaching out to catch you, but he was too late. You fell straight down, landing on your right leg. It snapped in half upon impact. The pain shot up your body and struck your brain, and you screamed like you never had before. Geyarajan landed next to you, panicking, trying to figure out what to do. You were crying too hard to speak.

“Hold on, Primrose, hold on,” He lifted you as carefully as he could and began to run through the woods. The pain and smell of blood made you violently sick. “I’m taking you home, just hold on.”

“No!” You managed to gasp. “You can’t go there!”

“I won’t be able to stay, but I can get you there, I promise,” He said.

“No!” You said, beginning to struggle, squealing as the movement made the pain worse. “They’ll kill you! You can’t go to the village!”

Geyarajan stopped in his tracks, breathing hard and looking toward the village and back into the forest.

“I’ll get into a lot of trouble, but there’s only one other place I can take you,” He said, sweating and shaking with fear. “Hold on to me. We’ll be there soon.”

What happened next was a blur of pain, color, noise, voices, and a terrible sick feeling throughout your body, the only familiar thing through all of it was the sound of Geyarajan’s voice and his hand holding yours. At some point, you blacked out completely.

You woke up to the sound of screaming. You were lying in the back garden of your own home, a large, grey feather in your hand, and your mother rushing over to you, checking you frantically.

“Oh, god, are you okay?!” She asked. “Where have you been? What happened to you?” She saw your leg and shrieked. “Who did this to you?!”

Her shouting had attracted the attention of several men, all of whom looked tired and held burned out torches. One of them dropped their spent torch and lifted you up, carrying you into the house. There was noise and shouting and confusion all around you, made worse by your mother’s constant shrill crying in the background. You let them do as they will in silence, clutching Geyarajan’s feather.

Your leg hurt, but nowhere as badly as it had before. You looked down and saw to your surprise that the leg had been wrapped set, wrapped in cloth to stem the bleeding, and was in a makeshift splint made of straight wooden rods and vines.

The physician was called and examined your leg. During this time, you learned you’d been missing for four days. The men with torches were part of the search party, tirelessly searching the woods for any trace of you. When they found blood on the grass and a fragment of your clothes, along with several large feathers, they thought some massive monster had gobbled you up.

The physician determined that your leg had been expertly set, however, meaning it was no monster that had taken you. Since you couldn’t remember most of your time missing, you kept silent, which made everyone grim-faced. They assumed the worst and decided someone had taken you and kept you in the woods somewhere, and you were so traumatized by the incident that you’d blocked the entire event out. You couldn’t exactly argue with them, but you knew Rajan would never hurt you. Not that you could tell them that.

The search began anew, only this time it wasn’t retrieval. It was revenge. You wished you could tell them that it wasn’t necessary, you wanted to stop them, but you couldn’t do anything without telling them about Rajan and his people, and you had promised never to do so. So you could only watch anxiously as the townsfolk worked themselves into a froth, looking for a predator that didn’t exist.

Bedridden and helpless to stop the villagers from their crusade, you spent many nights crying and wishing you could see Rajan. It was too dangerous now; you thought you wouldn’t see him for a long time. You were surprised when, a week later, Rajan came straight to your window late one night. He opened it and hopped down.

“Rajan!” You breathed, elated, and reached out your arms to embrace him from the bed. He stayed out of your reach. You couldn’t see his face well in this light, but his body radiated distrust.

“How could you?” He said whispered, pain seeping into his voice. “I thought you were my friend. How could you do this to me?”

You dropped your arms. “Wha… How could I what?”

“You know what!” He retorted angrily, his voice rising in anger. “You told them! You told the humans about us! You told them where to find us!”

“I didn’t!” You replied, stricken. “I would never, you know that! I never told them anything!”

“Liar!” He snapped. “Men came! They set fire to our colony! We have no home now because of you!”

You ignored the pain in your leg and swung around to sit up properly. “I didn’t tell them anything! I don’t even know where your colony is! I’ve never been there!”

“You’re lying! You were there! My parents cared for you, they fixed your leg! This is how you repay their kindness?”

“What?” You replied, confused. “I… no, I… I don’t… I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything. The last memory I have before waking up in the garden was you carrying me. We argued because I didn’t want you to come to the village. I was worried you’d get hurt--”

“Stop,” He said, raising a hand. “Enough of this. My parents were right. You can never trust a human.”

“Don’t say that! How could you have so little faith in me? We’ve been friends since we were little! I’d never do anything to put you or your family in danger, you know that! Why would I do that?”

The light from the moon caught his face, and the pain in his eyes stopped your heart.

“You tell me.”

He climbed up onto the windowsill, walked out on the roof, unfurled his wings, and took off. You fell to the ground with a loud thump. Your father came in to find you sobbing in anguish. He lifted you and put you back to bed, petting your hair and telling you it would be alright. But it wouldn’t.

You decided that once you were healed, you’d go and find Rajan and keep protesting your innocence until he believed you. You didn’t count on your parents’ plans.

Another week passed, and your mother came into your room.

“How are you feeling, love?” She asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. You’d been sullen and depressed since Rajan’s visit. Everyone assumed it was because of your disappearance and you made no attempt to correct them. The guilt of his family’s home being destroyed weighed heavily on your mind. If only you hadn’t tried to climb that tree.

“I’m sorry, darling,” She said. “I can’t believe monsters were living right next door to us in the woods. It’s become too dangerous in this place. Look at what they did to you!”

“They helped me!” You shouted. “They’re not monsters!”

Your mother rounded on you, her face pinching in suspicion. “How would you know that? What do you know about them?”

You scowled at her and remained silent.

“I knew you were lying when you said you couldn’t remember anything.” She stood up and looked down her nose at you. “That does it. We’re moving to Dunmountain.”

“What?!” You cried. “No! I don’t want to move!”

“The decision has already been made,” She told you, pulling out your luggage and starting to pack. “Your father and I can’t abide those disgusting creatures living so close.”

“But there are people like them in the city!” You argued.

“There are rules for them there,” Your mother said. “Most of them are ring fighters or laborers. They don’t practically nest in the backyards of decent people.”

“Who said you were decent?” You screamed. “You can’t make me go!”

“Who’s going to stop me?” She shouted back. “Your father has agreed. We’re going!” She threw your bag on the floor next to your bed. “Pack your things yourself!” With that, she turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her and leaving you to weep bitterly into your blanket.

You had no choice. Within the month, you were all packed and in a wagon headed to the city. You had become withdrawn and quiet, unlike the girl you had been before. Your father worried over you, but your mother told you to suck it up and get over it. New city, new life, new start.

She was more right than she knew. In the city, you were a new person. The cheerful child that was friends with everyone she met was gone. You were shy, introverted, and taciturn, only speaking when spoken to. You found it difficult to make friends and were quick to tears.

Your mother, in an effort to desensitize you to “monsters,” took you to the gladiator’s ring and made you watch them fight each other. You hated it; the sight of them viciously attacking each other for no other purpose than to entertain humans made you physically ill.

As you got older, the people of your neighborhood began to call you the monster girl because of your tendency to go to the ring and talk to the fighters. Just talk. Some of them were willing participants, but there were others who were forced to fight. People with debt, criminals, the homeless, the mentally ill; anyone society deemed abnormal. Their jailers seemed to forget that they were still people.

You’d often sit outside of their cells and talk to them, comfort them, even write down messages to give to their loved ones. Your mother despaired of you, and the humans thought you were weird, but the creatures of the fighting ring called you an angel.

One day, when you were nineteen, there was a new arrival at the jail, a young woman with wings and bird feet. When you were told, you immediately went to see her first.

“Hello?” You called softly, tapping gently on one of the bars.

“Who are you?” She asked.

You told her your name. “I come here to talk to the fighters and help them when I can. What’s your name?”

“Aashiyana,” She replied. “You can help me?”

“I can try,” You replied. “Why are you here?”

“I caught a deer in a field near my home,” She said. “It was apparently owned by a nobleman or something. What kind of person owns a deer?”

“People with too much money,” You replied, laughing. “How long is your sentence?”

“Until my fine is up. Six months, I think they said.”

“How much is the fine?”

“300 gold.”

“That’s highway robbery!” You exclaimed. “Let me see what I can work out.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” She said. “This city is stifling. I hate it here.”

“So do I,” You replied, standing. You were about to turn and leave, but you were compelled to ask. “By any chance, do you know a boy named Geyarajan?”

Aashiyana sat up straighter and peered at you. “I did know a boy by that name, yes.”

Your heart hammered in your throat. “Did?”

“He doesn’t go by that name anymore. His name is Gaveshan now.”

“Why did he change his name?” You asked.

“How do you know him?”

“He saved my life years ago. He… was my friend.”

Her eyes widened and jaw dropped. “Are you Primrose?”

Your expression matched hers. “Yes! How did you know about that?”

“We met!” She said, her eyes lighting up. “Your leg was broken and my mother set it. She was the colony’s healer. You stayed in the colony with us until she felt it was safe to move you.”

“I don’t remember,” You told her. “I don’t remember anything. I was with Rajan when I broke my leg, and then I passed out. When I woke up again, I was back home and I’d been missing for four days. I don’t know what happened during that time.”

Aashiyana frowned. “You don’t remember me at all?”

You shook your head sadly. “I’m sorry. What happened to the colony?” You asked her, putting a hand on hers around the bars. “Rajan told me that it was burned, but he didn’t give me any details.”

“Men came out of the forest with torches. They set fire to everything. We had to flee with nothing. Some didn’t make it.”

“Oh, god,” You said, covering your mouth in horror. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t fallen out of the tree…”

“Did you tell the men how to find us?”

“No! I swear I didn’t! I don’t even remember being there!” You said. “I swear, Aashiyana, I swear on my life.”

He deep brown eyes searched yours for a moment, a discerning look on her face, and she said, “I believe you.”

Your face crumpled as the tears began to flow. “Thank you.” You wiped your face on a handkerchief and straightened yourself. “Let me see what I can do for you. I’ll get you out of here.”

“Thank you,” She said.

It took some time, but you managed to make a deal with the judge. It was a lucky thing that your parents were in good standing with the stadium, as your father was a financier, so you were able to pull a few favors. You returned to Aashiyana’s cell three days later and directed the jailor to open the door.

“What’s happened?”

“I’ve made a deal,” You said. “You’re free of the fighting ring, but in exchange, you must work. I’ve made arrangements for you. I’ll tell you about it once we’re in the carriage.”

“Carriage?”

You took her by the arm. “Come on.”

Outside the jail, a carriage was indeed waiting for you. You opened the door and assisted her in getting inside, as the steps weren’t built for her large claws, and got inside after her. The carriage began to move.

“So what deal did you make?” She asked.

“You are to be my personal servant for the remainder of your sentence.”

She balked. “What makes you think I want to be a slave any more than a punching bag?”

“I have no intention of giving you any order,” You told her. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll like you to take me to see Geyarajan. Or Gaveshan, I guess.”

“Do I have to stay with you?” She asked, eyeing you.

“Of course not,” You replied. “You’re free to go as soon as we get out of the city limits, as far as I’m concerned. I have no intention of ordering you around.”

“Can’t you get into trouble for this?”

“Of course. The penalty for assisting a criminal escape is taking their sentence plus five years.”

“If you know that’s going to happen when you come back, why would you do it?” She asked you, horrified.

“Simple. I’m not coming back.”

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