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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 || (very dark) 70s!Bucky x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: he tried to be sympathetic to your cause, he really did, but he couldn’t just let you get away with disrespecting him like that.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut (noncon, plus breeding kink and tons of degradation, like very heavy degradation, and multiple orgasms/overstimulation), misogyny, a bit of dumbification, housewife kink, ‘sir’ kink (brief), choking, implied anal, spitting (not on the reader, unfortunately lmao), quite a bit more than period-typical sexism, awful awful awful this fic is absolutely awful

Brooklyn, 1970.

Bucky’s mornings were sacred. He had his rituals: showering, cooking breakfast, reading the paper and having his first drink and cigarette of the day, all before he left for work.

But throughout this entire week, his mornings had been ruined by the stupid fucking protest in the park just outside his window. And to think he’d actually paid more for an apartment with a view of the park— he hadn’t realized then that the “view” was gonna be a bunch of hippies creating awful music and an unbearable smell that left his whole apartment reeking of reefer if he dared to open his window.

Attempting to ignore it for a week only made him more resentful with each passing day. Each time he figured the crowd would surely leave soon or at least be quiet for the night, they seemed to somehow get louder just to spite him.

He probably should've waited until he was a bit less agitated to go down and try to bargain with you, but he stormed down there instead and tapped you on the shoulder when his presence alone wasn't enough to distract you from your incessant chanting.

“Would you consider being quiet?" he asked firmly. "I have to work in the morning and—”

“We won’t be quiet until women have equal treatment under the eyes of society and the law,” you interrupted to explain condescendingly, shocking him with your icy tone. He could hardly believe your attitude, in fact he couldn’t remember any woman speaking to him that way in his life: so far, he wasn’t enjoying it.

“I just thought you could be a little more respectful,” Bucky shot back, even more stern. “You’re not making anyone wanna support your movement by acting entitled and inconveniencing everyone.”

“I’m sorry the revolution is inconvenient for you,” you replied, but it didn’t sound much like an apology.

He wanted to say more but you blew him off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him confused and irritated and livid. Up until now he had been quietly skeptical about all this talk of liberation but now he saw it for the poison it really was. A girl like you— who could've been a real looker with some willingness to try and a better attitude— talking to a man like him with so much hate and over what, a polite request?

This could not be tolerated; he couldn't let you get away with acting like that. And lucky for you, he was exactly the guy you needed to teach you your lesson.

The good thing about hippies high on shrooms is they aren’t the most observant. When he returned to the demonstration area the next night, he was able to grab you roughly and pull you back from the crowd with almost no trouble at all, dragging you into an empty alley and clamping his hand down over your mouth as your eyes went wide and your throat vibrated with silent screams.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed against your ear, “whatcha fightin’ for?”

He liked the way it felt to have you squirming against his grasp, using all your strength and not even getting close to escaping.

“How does it feel to know I can do anything I want to you?” he growled against your ear. “C’mon, sweetheart, can’t you put up a better fight than that? I thought you believed in equality… you should be able to get away if you’re as strong as I am.”

He felt your warm tears trailing down around his fingers which held your face tightly, the struggle of your limbs slowing and weakening slightly. His cock was already getting hard as he imagined the moment you would finally give in.

“You remember me, don’t you? You didn’t need to be so rude, darlin’. You could’ve just been nice and none of this would be happening.”

Your elbow shot back into his ribs and he exhaled sharply but didn't let go, grabbing your wrists and holding your arms to your chest as he pinned you to the wall.

"Oh, that's not gonna work, babydoll. I'm so much stronger and bigger than you, all you're gonna do is make me angrier. Is that what you want, sweetheart? To make me angry?" he asked mockingly, leaning in to lick the shell of your ear as you tried to turn away. “Pretty girl like you would make a great wife, why would you want anything else?”

Ignoring your struggle, he reached into your shirt and purred as he groped your chest, your nipples hardening when he pinched them. “Maybe I can get behind this bra-burning thing if it means having easier access to your tits all the time,” he grinned. “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when I can see them through your shirt? Shouldn’t be showing ‘em off if you don’t want any attention.”

As fun as it was to play with your tits, he had bigger plans, so he reached lower to start tugging down your jeans, your legs uselessly kicking as he exposed your ass and thighs.

His cock was already rock hard as he hastily opened his fly and pulled it out with one hand, leaning back to spit on it quickly. He spread the fluid with a few strokes over his length, figuring it would be enough to get inside you even if he didn’t really care if he hurt you.

Your eyes went wide and your head bucked wildly as he poked the head of it against your opening, your body fighting a little harder once again. The irony of that, though, was that you were already plenty wet in spite of what he had expected; it was so much funnier to watch you struggle now that he knew you were not-so-secretly enjoying it.

“Don’t be so dramatic," he chuckled darkly, "I bet you can take a cock real easy since you believe in all this ‘free love’ bullshit.”

He groaned as he pushed into you, impressed by how tight you were— so tight that it made his cock throb right away, your walls pulsing and rippling around him as he filled you to the brim.

“Oh fuck, there you go…” he hissed, smiling as you sobbed harder and struggled a bit more before finally relaxing into his tight embrace. "You're gonna take it all, baby, every fuckin' inch of me."

A hard sob choked out of you every time he slammed himself to the end of you; he could feel the hatred radiating from you, the way you would kill him in a moment if only you weren't so weak. But he could feel your reluctant acceptance, too, and the way it was slowly turning into euphoria— you were finally starting to like how it felt to be helpless to him, it was obvious with the way your pussy gave him such a warm and willing welcome while your pretty tits got even harder.

You clearly wanted to hate him, but your body knew better.

"You think I'm a sexist pig, I'm sure," he chuckled, "but I'm really not— I love women! And you know what I love most? Huh?"

He felt you nervously shake your head behind his hand and he laughed.

"I love the way you get so dumb when you get a cock in you. All those useless little thoughts leaving your head when you're finally getting fucked right."

Your cries got louder even though they were still muffled by his hand, your sweet little pussy giving him a squeeze of encouragement.

"It's okay to like it, babydoll, it's what you were meant for. Made to be my brainless fucktoy… born to serve me," he growled. “You really should learn to appreciate," he grunted between brutal thrusts, "that your only purpose is to keep my dinner hot and my cock warm.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and he felt your walls bear down on him tightly, wetness seeping down around him.

"Oh fuck, are you coming? Shit," he moaned. "Looks like you really needed to be put in your place, just needed to be used... god, you made a fuckin' mess, too, you soaked my cock…"

Your little hands tightened into fists, pushing against where his arm held them back, but he stayed steady as he pumped into you, letting himself get a bit lost in the feeling of you while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

It felt so damn good to have a cunt coming around him, but it was even better knowing that you were fighting it and still couldn’t stop it, completely helpless to how good he was making you feel.

You almost screamed under his hand when he reached down to quickly rub your clit, your back arching to try to run away from his touch; poor thing, you were so sensitive it probably hurt you, but he was having too much fun watching you realize you were going to come again.

"Yeah, gimme another one, slut," he grinned, your legs quivering as waves of slick coated him and started to even drip down your legs. "Can't stop coming like the dirty whore you are, huh? Bet nobody's made you come like this before— cause nobody's given it to you right. Nobody's shown ya what it's supposed to be like when a man takes you and makes you his."

From the way you moaned softly, teary eyes fluttering shut, he knew you liked the sound of that.

"Yeah, wanna be mine, baby? Wanna be my little slut? Or do you want me to pump this pussy full and leave you here on the ground for any other man that comes by to use you if he needs?"

You groaned softly, a weak little noise, and he felt his cock flex; as much as he wanted this to last as long as possible, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“M’close, honey,” he breathed. “I’m gonna come.”

He laughed breathlessly when you shut your eyes, like you were trying to go somewhere else in your mind, trying to pretend this wasn’t real. But it was real, and he wasn’t going to let you forget that. He was elated to make your nightmares come true.

"I sure wouldn't mind pulling out and covering that pretty face you've got,” he hissed. “It'd be funny to see you go back to your little march and show them how owned you are. But not today, babydoll, I think there's only one way you're gonna learn your lesson."

Another muffled gurgle from you, and this time it didn’t even sound like protest. Maybe you were just too tired for that at this point, but it gave him hope that you could finally behave.

"I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth and you're gonna beg me to come inside you, is that clear?" he grunted, feeling you nod vigorously. "You're not gonna scream are you?"

You shook your head, and he slowly pulled his hand from your mouth as you gasped for air. "Please— come in me," you panted.

"Address me as 'sir'," he instructed.

"Please, sir, I— I want you to come," you whined.

He chuckled right against your ear, feeling you shiver in his grasp. "Honey, I don't give a fuck what you want."

To think you ever resisted your natural desire for submission was absurd now, considering the way that statement made you openly moan, your walls fluttering around him.

“Gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep you’ll never get it outta you, sweetheart.”

One more orgasm washed over you, making him laugh darkly while he watched you bite your lip to attempt to stay quiet; but that was impossible once he fucked you harder just to spite you, having to hold you tight to make sure he got as deep in you as possible. Your whole body shook as he slammed into you, and he laughed at how dumb and helpless you looked.

"Bet you're on those new birth control pills," he grimaced. They really weren’t that new, but he still hadn’t gotten used to them. "Makes me sick to think you're letting a perfectly good womb go to waste. Betcha want me to breed you nice and deep, yeah? Wanna get knocked up? You don't even care that I'm a stranger, you wanna get your pussy filled by any random man's come so you can have any random man's baby, ain't that right?"

At first he had worried that you would scream or cry for help, but now his concern was more that your moans would be too loud and somebody would catch the two of you in this alley. Even if it was obvious now that you wanted it, public indecency was still a crime.

Good thing he had a new way to shut you up: his hand tight around your throat, silencing your sobs to blessed silence. It was so hot to have you entirely at his mercy like that, to feel your pulse beneath his fingers, that he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up his thrusts suddenly.

"Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he gasped, “fuck, y-you… little whore…”

He had a habit of running his mouth when he was right on the edge, and the way your pussy was milking him for all he was worth made him spit out whatever filth he could think of.

“Stupid fuckin' bitch," he mumbled under his breath as he fucked you as fast and rough as he could, chasing his high with no regard for your pleasure or your pain. "Dumb whore, fuck, you stupid— ah, shit— stupid fucking cunt!"

He cried out as he filled you, groaning loudly with every pump of his seed into your waiting body. Only when he was sure every drop was inside you did he release his grip on your neck, a loud gasp coming first before a few coughs and chokes that only made his cock harder despite having just filled you.

You started to struggle again, and he couldn’t believe it— after everything, did you still not know your place?

There wasn’t much time to relax and enjoy the afterglow when you were already trying to get away, and so he had to hold you tight again while he smiled exhaustedly.

“N-no,” you stammered, and he covered your mouth again as he pulled your head back to rest on his shoulder. Clearly he hadn’t done enough yet to fuck that word out of you.

“Where ya goin’, sweetheart?” he panted against your ear, still catching his breath, his chest covered in a thin layer of sweat where it was exposed by his shirt. “You’ve still got another hole to fill.”

#dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes dark fic #bucky barnes noncon #dark!bucky barnes smut

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luvknow · 5 years

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parasitic | bang chan

genre: bang chan x fem!reader | college au ; roommates au ; enemies-to-lovers ; alcohol mention summary: your roommate is going abroad for the semester and now you’re forced to share your apartment with bang chan, who you basically lived with for the past semester except he didn’t pay rent, he ate all of your food, and crashed on your couch after a long night out. you were going to do everything in your power to avoid him until your roommate comes back. that doesn’t work out so well. wc: 11.8k a/n: omg a month late, but merry christmas to @channiechanchan!! did you know it was me?? LMAO I’M SO SORRY LKJDSLKFJ IT’S ALSO NOT EVEN XMAS RELATED BUT....... I HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT, ILY SLKJDSL

The sun rays peeked through the gaps of the curtains letting you know that a beautiful Sunday was upon you. You would spend the morning making breakfast for you and your roommate, clean your room of all the bad vibes, knock out some homework, and light an overpriced candle to conclude a stress-free day.

A long morning stretch in bed was the start to your day, and you had the widest smile on your lips upon exiting your room as if there was nothing that could ruin your energy. That dropped quickly once you were greeted with a loud, snoring, almost-naked man face down and passed out on your couch.

“Sorry about him,” roomie Yeri said out of habit while practically crawling out of her room. “Again.”

She looked like a hot mess, with her hair frazzled in all directions and last night’s make-up still smeared around her eyes. Her timing was impeccable - it was like she could sense your annoyance through her walls.

“Why?” you whined childishly. This had to be the tenth weekend by now!

“You know why! Lucas had his birthday party last night, remember? Which you were invited to but totally flaked last minute.”

“I have an exam this week.”

“We have an exam this week and it’s not until Thursday!”

“So? I like to be prepared!”

“Can you two shut up?” the bane of your existence interrupted. The newly brunette (who had dyed his hair in your living room, thanks to Yeri) ran a hand through his wild hair, hoping it’d alleviate some of the pain from his hangover. “I have a pounding headache.”

“And whose fault is that?” you scolded bitterly before yanking your blanket off of him. The poor man below you shriveled up and buried his musty legs under your beautiful couch pillows for some sense of warmth. “Not like you pay rent here for you to have the right to complain, or anything.”

“Lighten up, buttercup. You’re so uptight.”

“Gotta do my job around here and exterminate the parasites.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Too many STDs.”

Yeri chucked a pillow each at the both of you so you’d shut up and avoid waking up any grumpy neighbors. “Please, for the love of God, can you guys chill out for once so we can have a relaxing Sunday together?”

“Together?” you and Chan groaned simultaneously.

Yeri was not having it and shot a glare like an angry mother, to which you and Chan mumbled some sort of noise of confirmation and went about your separate ways. You inhabited the kitchen and Chan dragged himself to wash away the sticky shame and Hennessey in the shower. Yeri hopped over to help you make pancakes as if her two best friends weren’t just itching to pull each other’s hair out. She liked to think of herself as the glue of the group, like the quirky friend in the middle who was delusion to the tension in between. Neither of you had the heart to ruin her sitcom fantasy.

“Morning ~” she sang cutely.

“I hate him.”

“He’s not that bad!”

“You’ve been saying that the entire fall semester, but almost every weekend of mine has been ruined by his presence!”

Yeri winced and took a step back as she watched you vigorously mix the pancake batter faster than an electronic stand mixer. Another step back was taken while you violently dumped in the blueberries. Cooking and baking was one of your favorite hobbies and she knew you could be quite passionate about it, but she never saw you angry-cook before. It was a scary site to see, as if you being angry wasn’t scary enough.

“He’s only the way he is because you never gave him a chance.”

“What does that even mean?”

“He’s the type of person who likes to be liked, you know?”

“So? Don’t we all?”

“Of course, but it’s different with people like him. When those types of people meet someone who doesn’t like them, they can get a little… How do I say this? Defense mechanism-y?”

“Wouldn’t you think that would motivate him to, I don’t know, be nice to me and not inhabit my space and eat my food every weekend? Perhaps he’d kiss my ass a little?”

“Like I said, defense mechanism-y…”

“More like melodramatic.”

No matter how Yeri tried to explain to you how Chan was ‘different’, you weren’t buying it nor did you care to argue any longer. Why should you have to like him just because he was your best friend’s other best friend? This wasn’t some algebra problem that could be easily solved by the transitive property - this was a matter of respecting each others’ personal spaces and each other in general, and Chan had been the one to cross both of those lines first, that dick. While Yeri lectured like your math professor, you mindlessly hummed here and there pretending to understand, just as you would in actual math class.

The bathroom door opening prompted you and Yeri to shut up immediately. Then, a moist Chan walked out of the steam with nothing but a familiar lavender towel wrapped around his disgustingly chiseled waist.

“Is that my towel!?” you shrieked in fear.

“Yeah. Hope that’s ok with you!” The fake honey sweetness in his tone made your skin crawl like there were bees under the dermis. “By the way, you’re out of shampoo. I love this scent! What is it, tea tree and mint?”

Yeri had to hold you back from hitting him with a hot spatula and Chan managed to escape back into the bathroom with a change of clothes that he kept here ‘for emergencies’, of course. They hung on the open clothes rack in the living room that was meant to show off yours and Yeri’s tasteful jackets, but the aesthetic was ruined early fall and even your jackets began to smell of Chan’s sophisticated cologne.

“I’m gonna kill him in his sleep,” you seethed.

Yeri patted your head like you were an angry kitten. “Killing the captain of the basketball team isn’t exactly kosher, love.”

“I’ll show you kosher.”

“Can’t keep on threatening me, babe,” Chan tisked while throwing on a t-shirt upon entering the A and B conversation.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m just trying to make our friendship better. You know, since we’ll be roommates soon.”

Excuse me, what? “What are you talking about…”

“Oh, you don’t know?” a sly Chan smirked.

When you turned to interrogate Yeri, she quickly stopped the sign language that clearly meant ‘shut your GODDAMN MOUTH, Christopher’ and gave you that sweet, innocent smile that let her get away with practically anything because who could say no to her rosy cheeks and rainbow-shaped eyes?

“Yeri, what is he talking about…?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, about that… I got accepted into the study abroad program!”

“That’s amazing and I am very proud of you and I love you, but what does this cockroach mean when he says we’ll be roommates soon!?”

“Hey!” he pouted.

“Oh, shut it!”

“Ah, well, I figured to lessen the burden of paying double the rent, I thought it’d, you know, take it upon myself to save you the stress of finding a subletter and Chan was the only one available…”

“Really? Of the entire cheerleading team, the pottery club, the damn pilates and cycling club, hell even the other players on the basketball team, Chan was the only one free to sublet? The only one?”

“Um... yes?”

“You know, I don’t really consent to this -”

“Please, _____, it will only be for the semester, I promise! I leave next week and I can’t take much with me, and Chan is the only person I trust to stay in my room and not ruin anything and steal my underwear!”

“How can you say that when he’s probably going to bring girls home and do them on your bed!?”

“I would never do that!” Chan interjected.

“Yeah, ok.”

“No, really! Why would I ruin her bed when I can just ruin yours while you’re gone?”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Christopher -!”

“See!” Yeri brought the two of you into a esophagus-crushing headlock so you two would shut up. “You two are already getting along so well!!”

Chan managed to slip away and steal you from Yeri, giving you a rough knuckle sandwich. “We’ll get along swimmingly, Yer-bear, I promise. Isn’t that right, _____?”

Yeri couldn’t help but look at you both with sparkly eyes, thinking that yes, maybe there’s a chance that a beautiful friendship could blossom from this! Jabbing an elbow to his ribs with a fake smile of your own, you wordless agree with a nod.

As long as Chan stayed in his room and you stayed in yours, maybe there wouldn’t be much to worry about, right?

The first week with Chan was exactly how you expected it - seeing his bare ass because he never closed the bathroom door, stealing your snacks, taking up the living room space, and blasting his loud soundcloud music that you could hear through your paper-thin walls. Still, even through all the frustration and the annoyance, you thought it would be best if you two just lived your lives separately and didn’t bother making nice with each other. Rather than fighting and yelling, ignoring each other for the sake of everyone’s sanity was for the best.

What pushed you to the edge was when he took the last pack of fruit snacks you were really looking forward to after a long week of classes.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned into the cupboard. “Chan!”

“Yes, darling?” he called from his - Yeri’s - bedroom, to which you stomped over to confront him. Seeing a grown man on Yeri’s white desk on a pink gaming chair playing some PC game was truly a sight to see.

“Did you eat the last of my fruit snacks!?”

The sly boy swiveled the desk chair to face you. “Ooh, was that the last one? I swear there was one left…”

“Come on, dude!”

“I’m sorry, ok, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal! That’s not cool!”

“No, what’s not cool is that you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

You were taken aback by his bold, although correct, assumption. You really didn’t expect him to call you out on this so early. “I… have not…!”

“You’re such a liar!” He pointed accusingly. Although you seemed heated in the argument, Chan was grinning because of course he was right, that dick.

“You don’t think I have anything better to do, like do my homework or-or hang out with friends outside of this apartment?”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean every time you come home and see me in the living room, you go straight to your room.”

“That’s normal!”

“Ah yes, but then you wait until I go into my room -”

“Yeri’s room.”

“- to cook dinner or grab a snack.”

“That’s just a coincidence -”

“How about the opposite, when I come home and you’re chilling in the living room and then you go to your room and shut the door? No ‘hi, how was your day’, or anything.”

“Well -”

“Or how about the mornings, when you’re sitting at the kitchen table relaxing and drinking something warm and sweet-smelling with a tired smile on your face because this is the only time in your day where you get to truly relax, but the second I leave my room to go to the bathroom or grab some water, you chug whatever’s barely boiling in your cup, dump it in the sink, and head out.”

“... I’m that obvious, huh?”

“Wow, look at that smug look on your face,” he pointed again. You didn’t even feel that proud smile on your lips. But Chan didn’t think it was amusing. His lips formed a frown, like he was insulted or even hurt at how cold you could be towards him. “What have I done to make you hate me this much?”

Your eyes bulged incredulously. “Let’s go down memory lane, shall we? Almost every weekend of the fall semester you; crashed on our couch, ate all of our ramen and eggs and sriraicha the morning after to recover from your massive hangover, used our laundry detergent, and used our bath products just to name a few! All without a simple thank you or even asking beforehand!”

Chan couldn’t deny that yes, maybe he’d been a little, um, unceremonious with his intrusion on your life, but come on, everyone deserves a second chance! The very prideful man in front of you rolled Yeri’s pink chair to the threshold only to clasp your hands together in his and now you were sweating.

“Ok, I’ll admit that I was a terrible guest this past semester.” Does an apology count if the guilty party rolls his eyes? “So, out of the goodness of my heart, I am very, very sorry.”

“My ass.”

“What!? Does this not look sincere to you?” he asked, pointing to his fake pouty face.

“Ok, I’m leaving.”

“No no no, c’mon!” Chan whined as he chased you into the living room. He grabbed your trailing hand to stop you. “Look, I’m truly sorry that I sometimes use your things -”

“Always use my things.”

“Most of the time use your things. I am sorry, really. Please believe me, ok? Aren’t you tired of avoiding me all the time?”

A tired sigh escaped you because you were absolutely exhausted from it. “I accept your semi-sincere apology. But why, for the love of God, why don’t you ever use Yeri’s things!? Why mine? She’s the one that’s your friend!”

“Honestly? I wanted to get your attention.”

“Oh, my God, what are you, five?”

“Hey, you’re the one who ignored me like a rude hostess from the get-go! You never gave me a chance!”

“My first impression of you was all I needed to not give you one.”

“I couldn’t have been that bad.”

“You puked in my backpack with some of my textbooks in it and poor Yeri had to clean up your mess!”

“Oh yeah, I remember that… That was on Sunwoo’s birthday.” You tried walking away again, but Chan’s grip was too strong. “Ok, fine, I’ll admit my first impression was horrendous, but you never let me redeem myself after that, so I kept annoying you so you’d confront me about it! That’s not fair that you judged me so quickly!”

“Yeah, and look how annoying me turned out! It went from my first impression to my thousandth impression.”

“I mean, it eventually worked, right?”

Another tired sigh. “Chan, is there a purpose to this?”

“Yes. I want to start over.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Start over? Like, erase all the shit that happened between us?”

“Exactly. A clean slate. Clean plates, I’ll even do your dishes tonight.”

You did hate doing the dishes… And you were so tired of stressing out over avoiding him, even if it had only been a week. After a long, painful pause, you held out your hand for him to shake. “Fine, a clean slate it is.”

A prideful and grinning roommate gladly shook your hand. “I pledge to not be an asshole anymore.”

“And I promise not to have a stick up my ass.”

“Wow, look how far we’ve come, huh? Cheers to a new friendship?”

“After you do my dishes.”

“... Fair enough.”

To commemorate this new and fresh friendship, you joined Chan in the kitchen. You didn’t do anything as he hand-washed your handmade dishes made in pottery class, but in return for eating your last fruit snack pack, he offered you some cookies he’d been hiding to which you gladly obliged. It was a peaceful silence in the kitchen other than the clinking of dishes and running water that offered some white noise while you read one of your books (after Chan called you a nerd). This had to be the most stress-free thirty minutes of your life.

“So,” your new ‘friend’, if you’d generously call him, began after finishing the dishes. He took a seat next to you and grabbed a cookie of his own. “Now that we’re cool and all, I would like to formally invite you to our basketball game tomorrow.”

"First of all, we're not totally cool just yet. Think of this as like a trial. Gotta pay your premium subscription fees before getting the premium benefits.”

“Yeah, yeah, so do you wanna go or not?"

"Hm, a basketball game? Like you're playing in it?"

"As the captain, I sure hope so."

You thought about it for a second - what terrible things could possibly come about if you went to one of Chan's basketball games? Well, it's set in a crowded and sweaty arena, whose crowd and players are also sweaty, it was loud, the food and drinks were expensive, and you literally could not care less about basketball. But, out of the goodness of your heart, which was now willing to give people a second chance for some reason, maybe you could tolerate sitting through a quarter or two.

"Sure, I'll go."

"Really? I wasn't expecting that."

"Then why'd you bother asking?"

"I'm tryna be homies, and that's what homies do! Invite homies to their basketball games."

"Please don't call me homie."

"Ok, home skillet."

"I'm gonna be honest, I don't know anything about basketball."

"Like, at all?"

"I know the cool far shots are worth like three points, right?"

"Oh, darling, you have a lot to learn. Here, lemme do a spark notes run down."

Professor Chan, PhD in sports and partying, took however many hours to explain. You lost track after two. At the end of the night, all of the cookies and milk were gone and you both went to bed at two in the morning.

"You, at a basketball game!?" Yeri snorted from the other side of the world. "And you and Chan being civilized!? Lord, how long have I been gone?"

"I have many regrets…"

"Don't say that! I think it's cute that you guys are finally getting along. Who would've thought that locking you two in the same apartment for one week was all that it took?"

"It might have been sooner if he'd just apologized right away instead of stealing all of my stuff to get my attention."

"Yup, sounds like Christopher."

"So you're coming back soon, right…?"

"If soon means a couple of months, yes."

"Yeri ~!" you whined, hopelessly missing your Sunday night partner watching crime documentaries.

"Chill, you big baby, just hang out with Chan if you're so lonely."

"Ugh, gross." Ironically enough, you stepped on a freshly-spat wad of gum upon entering the half-filled gymnasium.

"But not too often cuz, you know, you might fall in love ~"

You hoped no one saw the way your face twisted in disgust. "Are you delusional!?"

"Or even worse, you two might get drunk and make out and then fu -"

"OH-KAY, bye, Yer-bear love you!" You hung up immediately, traumatized at the thought she planted in your head. You hated how your face heated up so brightly. Don’t sweat it, _____! There’s no way that something like that could blossom from something that was nothing!

"Hey, you actually made it -" Chan had burst into your bubble without a warning, causing you to jump and drop your phone. After wiping off another fresh glob of gum from your phone screen this time, you bucked up the courage to stand face-to-face with a confused Chan wearing his basketball uniform. "Jeez, you good? You're all blushy. Ah, you saw Jaehyun's nudes, didn't you?"

"No, idiot! You just startled me, although I should be used to you invading my space by now."

“Ha ha. Stop being weird and take a seat. We’re still warming up, but hopefully we’ll start soon.”

“Uh, is there like, designated seating, or?”

Chan’s dimply smile accompanied a rough hair ruffle. “How cute, you’ve never been to a game before, huh?”

“I would rather die than willingly pay to go here on my leisure.”

A strong, sweaty arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Sit right over there,” he said, pointing to a single spot in the middle of the one hundred level that allowed for the best view of the entire court. “You’ll see me in action the whole time.”

“Next to the dude eating a chili dog and the chick with a cut-out of Woojin’s face?”

“The superfan section truly is not of this world.”

“If I came all the way here just to watch you lose, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“Don’t worry, baby, we never lose!”

The coach called Chan back to warm up some more which left you no choice but to enter the germ-infested purgatory and sit in between the superfans. Glancing at the other team, it was clear that they had the intimidation factor of being the taller and bigger players, so you weren’t sure how this was going to turn out. But your team, although smaller, had an enormous amount of unwavering energy. Perhaps it was because they were playing at home and had the entire half of this court filled to the brim cheering their names.

Chan was busy next to the couch, watching the form of his teammates as they were shooting three pointers. There was no doubt to anyone, even if no one had ever seen him before, that he was the captain. Who knew the barf-filled, void for a stomach, almost always naked asshole had the mindset of a lion? Every now and again, he’d pull one of his teammates to the side, probably a newbie to the varsity team, and help him with his form or give pointers or remind him of what play they were going to execute once the buzzer rang.

At some point, you realized you were watching him for far too long because he caught you right where he placed you. By the smirk on his lips, you’ll never hear the end of it if you see each other back at the apartment, and you would have looked away almost immediately if he hadn’t grabbed a ball not a second later. What was he doing?

Chan dribbled the ball to the free throw line (at least you think that’s what it’s called). He looked at you again, but this time he was pointing, like he was challenging you. Every pair of eyes in the gymnasium managed to pinpoint his target to you and if he thought you were blushy before, he should really see you up close now. After the very dramatic scene, Chan focused on dribbling the ball a few times which brought everyone’s attention back to him, thankfully. He dribbled a bit more, stopped to set up his shot, followed through and swoosh, there it went, right into the basket like a mathematician's perfect parabola.

“That was for you,” he mouthed silently with a sense of tease dripping from every word.

Normally, you might have flicked him off, but who were you to ruin the vibe just before the game started? Out of the goodness of your heart, you lightly clapped at his performance like this was the opera.

And so the game began! Mingyu, since he was the tallest member, did that thing where they toss the ball up in the air and they try to get it on their side, and since he was like 6’5”, it was easy for Chan’s team to start with the ball. There was a lot of back and forth head movements and eye scanning and you felt like your brain was being shaken up. To be honest, before you stepped into the stadium, you thought that none of this was going to excite you in the least. The idea of sweaty boys running around with a ball was completely barbaric, didn’t you think? But when someone, especially Chan, shot the ball or blocked it or did some weird dancey footwork, you gasped and cheered with the rest of the gym, the spirit of the game blooming in your soul much to your resistance.

The game ended almost too quickly and thankfully your team won. All of the superfans and the cheerleaders ran towards the team, congratulating them with cheers and hugs and mounting their beloved captain on their shoulders. Chan had his bright and dimply smile you’ve been seeing too often this week. You considered waiting until the crowd died down so you could congratulate him right then, but being the captain meant he was the center of everyone’s attention, not just yours. You shrugged off the impatience and headed for home. You could always congratulate him tomorrow, so long as he hasn’t puked anywhere.

Just before exiting the gym, you heard your name being called.

“_____, wait!” Chan yelled, sprinting to you as soon as his people made a walkway.

“I guess a congratulations is in order,” you said. “Congrats on winning. You looked super cool out there.”

“Hold on, can you say that one more time?” he teased, whipping out his phone to record you.

“Congrats, asshole!” you greeted the camera with double birdies.

“Thank you, m’lady. Where are you going now -”

“Channie!” a cute voice cried. Channie?

“Miyeonie!” he parroted back at the pretty cheerleader.

“Are you coming with us to Mingyu’s or what?”

You almost forgot it was the weekend already. It was time for drunk Chan shenanigans to ensue and that meant locking yourself up in your room and hiding the newly-bought fruit snacks.

“Oh, uh…”

Chan looked back at you like he was about to ditch his little sibling who had asked to play with him. Before any embarrassing pity invites were thrown out, you quickly bid your farewell.

“I’ll see you later, Channie ~” you waved off playfully.

“_____, hold on,” he said in urgency. Oh no, please don’t do what you think he’s doing… “Uh, I think I’m going to skip out on tonight, Miyeon.”

Both of you looked at him like he had three heads and two tails. Miyeon’s the only one brave enough to speak up on it. “Party Boy Channie is ditching us tonight? Why?”

“I’m super tired.” You’re full of shit, Chan! Why are you ruining my quiet night in!? “I’ll catch you guys next week, though.”

“Fine. Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Ok ~” She then quickly kissed him on his lips and he welcomed it fully like they’ve been doing that for some time now. Could it be that Party Boy Channie has finally settled down, despite all of his sloppy stories he used to slur about every weekend? How was it that he, of all scumbags, was able to have a significant other and you couldn’t even get a tinder date! “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t get too wild tonight.”

“No promises!”

Chan sighed helplessly and turned to face a disgusted? Shocked? No, a very uncomfortable you who had watched a corny teen drama movie unfold right in your face.

“Sorry about that,” he said sincerely for once.

“Oh please, I absolutely love watching true love express itself right in front of me, Channie.”

He rolled his eyes. “First of all, it’s not love.”

“Really? You’re telling me kissing pretty cheerleaders isn’t your love language?”

“Not when they cling to me like mothballs.”

“You’re so cruel, Channie.”

“Stop calling me that,” he warned. “Secondly, what are we doing tonight?”

“We? I don’t know who this we is, but I’m going home.”

“Aw, c’mon, really? I just ditched a Kim Mingyu party and perhaps some ass for some quality roommate bonding time!”

“I did not ask you to do that.”

“Don’t you wanna go out to eat or something? I’ll even pay for you.”

“No, because there’s food at home.”

“There isn’t food at home, you liar!”

“Well ok, not yet, I still have to go to the market first and then I’ll cook.”

“Oh?” You can cook? He certainly didn’t know that. “You’re cooking us dinner?”

“I’m cooking me dinner.” Chan folded his hands and gave you a poor excuse for puppy eyes. But he did just win the game, and you bet doing all that sporty stuff made him starving. “But I guess I can make you a plate... I guess you and I can… eat together…”

“Don’t sound too excited.”

“I’m clearly holding back my excitement.”

Usually in movies or tv, they have the head chefs of famous local restaurants come to the markets between four and five in the morning. The amateur chefs like yourself prefer to pick off what was left for much cheaper at night time. It’s not that the stuff left over was any bad, it was just the important people managed to pick out all the perfect prawns and symmetrical vegetables and what have you. It was much less stressful in the evenings anyways, when everyone was already home cooking and you were left to wander as you pleased before the vendors packed up for the day.

“Do you come here all the time to grocery shop?” a freshly-washed Chan asked beside you. When he went grocery shopping, as long as the produce didn’t have any bruises and the meat was red, that’s all he needed. He never inspected the peaches for its plumpness or asked what time the fish was caught today, unlike you, though now and again he’ll slap a watermelon to test its juiciness.

“Goodness, no, am I made of money?”

“How expensive can this place be, they’re not even in a store.”

“Oh, Chan the naivete. Think of the most expensive piece of produce you’ve ever bought. It’s probably organic, right? Free of pesticides and the like?”

“I think it was an avocado.”

“Right, completely ridiculous that you’re paying $2.50 per avocado. The avocadoes here? Double that.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I really wish I was. Those are the morning price avocadoes though. Nighttime shoppers like us are lucky to snag them for $3.50.”

“Why bother paying so much when you can go to the local store across the street from your house?”

“Even though I can get much more for the price I’m paying here,” you paused and handed Chan the brightest and quite possibly the smallest strawberry he’d ever seen. “You can taste the difference.”

Snipping off the green stem and leaves, the clueless boy popped the berry in his mouth and you watch the flavor brighten his eyes.

“Quality over quantity,” you bragged.

The rest of your time there, you had to stop Chan from eating a single grape from every little basket at every single vendor.

“You are a child.”

“Baby me, baby.”

Coming back to the apartment with your’s and Chan’s arms full of groceries, anxiousness rushed in the second you stepped beyond the threshold. It occurred to you that you’ve never actually cooked for anyone before besides Yeri. This will be the second time you’ll see someone’s first reaction to your cooking, and it’ll be from your worst enemy.

“Need me to sous chef, head chef?” he asked while unpacking.

“Actually, that would help me a lot. Could you wash the vegetables?”

“Sure. While we’re at it, can I get your opinion on something?”

You raised your brow in confusion. “Do I have the knowledge for it?”

“You have ears, so yes.”

From that point moving forward, you decided not to question Chan because he was going to do whatever he wanted anyways. As you prepped the kitchen, you ignored the loud rustling in the living room with the occasional ‘ow, fuck’ following a stubbed toe. Out of curiosity and right before yelling at him to hurry up, Chan had finally pressed the play button and an unfamiliar song played through his massive speakers that he brought outside.

“Is this your new song?” you asked.

He did the ‘hand-sexily-but-also-shyly-running-through-my-hair’ thing before answering. “Yeah, and I’m not sure if I like it that much. The guys say it sounds good, but they’re my homies so they have to say that, y’know?”

“At least you know I won’t bullshit you.”

“Be gentle at least, please.”

“I will once you help me with dinner finally.”

“Right, right.”

Of course one song didn’t cover the entirety of the dinner preparation. After the one, which you honest to God liked a lot (“Stop lying.” “I’m not! You asked me to be honest, dick!”), Chan shyly but happily showed you more of his work. Some of it was already posted to his Soundcloud and some weren’t uploaded because he either hated them or he was stuck and left unfinished.

“Like, how is it possible that I can’t finish a project whose finished product is less than three minutes long!?” By now, Chan gave up trying to help after he cut his finger several times and sat at the table munching on his expensive basket of berries as he explained his creative block to you as if you were his therapist. “It makes me seem lazy, doesn’t it?”

“People hit creative walls all the time,” you reassured. “Don’t get yourself down about it.”

“Have you ever even hit a wall before?” he challenged.

“I do in the kitchen all the time, you ass.”

“How is that even possible? What walls can you even hit in the kitchen?”

“The difference between baking and cooking is that baking has less room for error, but tons of room for visual creativity, which is why I think baking is much harder. Cooking measurements for a meal, on the other hand, are meant to be adjusted with freedom which is nice, but how many times can someone change the presentation of a bowl of rice, meat, and vegetables?”

A bowl of said food was placed in front of a drooling Chan who had to sit through the tortuous cooking process smelling the aromatics and satiate his rumbling tummy with sour fruit. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet and his eyes were already sparkling with anticipation. It was reactions like his that made you the most embarrassed because what if he tasted it and hated it!?

“Whoa, this looks delicious!” he beamed.

“You didn’t think I could cook, did you.”

“No, I thought you were joking and when you weren’t I was like, ‘I HAVE to taste her cooking’. I'm a little disappointed that it doesn’t look inedible.”

“Ha ha, just eat your food, parasite.”

With anticipation, you watched Chan take a huge bite with all the fixins on the spoon. You could sense the awkwardness when he turned away.

“Stop staring at me,” he mumbled with cheeks full of rice.

“Not until you tell me what you think.”

“Well, of course it tastes good.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now stop looking at me, I’m not your zoo animal.”

A huge sigh of relief escaped you and a heavy weight off your chest was relieved. Something about cooking for new people always made you want to pass out, but if both your best friend and your best enemy admit to how good it is, maybe you’ll become more open to the idea of cooking for others more often. You DID like that huge sense of pride that rushed in.

Chan finished the bowl in two minutes. He held it up for you to take. “More, please.”

“Wow, ok.”

You were lucky enough to get a bowl yourself with Chan practically inhaling everything, and even then he still had room for dessert. It was atrocious how much a college man could eat.

“They say someone’s cooking says a lot about them,” Chan proposed while washing down his food with soda.

“They who?”

“I don’t know, the internet?” he shrugged.

“Oh, yeah? What does the internet say about a bowl of rice for dinner?”

“That you’re uptight and don’t like to have fun.”

“Hey!”

“And probably a virgin.”

Your cheeks burned an embarrassingly bright red at the proclamation. “Wh-What makes you say that!?”

“It’s a safe meal to make. You know, hard to mess up and a little simple so it’ll always taste good?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Where’s the excitement, _____? The improvisation!?”

“There’s not much room to improv in cooking, Christopher.”

“Don’t you want to live a little? Have some spontaneity?”

“Are we still talking about my cooking or…?”

“No, dumbass, I mean your life, too!” Chan hopped up from his chair and took your hand to twirl you around the kitchen like the scene in Beauty and the Beast. Oh God, you hoped you didn’t accidentally poison him or that he was having a weird allergic reaction to sesame, or something. “Have some fun for once!”

You somehow broke away from the hypnotic dance and stood as far away from that crazy man as possible. “Don’t act like you know me all of a sudden because you read some corny Buzzfeed article about a fucking bowl of rice and meat, Bang Chan!”

“What do you mean, I’ve come to know you for a whole semester.”

“A whole semester of being blacked out.”

“Hey, that means nothing!”

“Ok. Tell me one thing you know about me from a whole semester of being unconscious on my couch.”

“You have an in-depth skin care routine.”

“Anyone can guess that.”

“From the books you have lying around and a few paintings on the wall, you dabble in that horoscope bull shit.”

“So do a lot of girls, next.”

“You like heart and star-shaped marshmallows in your hot cocoa.”

You’ll admit that one had you silent for a moment. Only Yeri knew about that, but that was because those were the only marshmallows you bought specifically for hot cocoa. They add a little pizazz to your drink, especially with the edible glitter. “That doesn’t count, there’s no other marshmallow in the apartment.”

“True,” he began, pointing an accusing finger at you. “But you like a whole handful of marshmallows in your mug.”

“... S-So -”

“Ah ha, got one!”

“So what, a ton of people like marshmallows!”

“Yeah, but not pink hearts and purple stars ones!”

“How do you even know that?”

“Hm. I think it was the night of Hongjoong’s birthday. Yeah, I passed out, woke up, whined to Yeri, and she made me hot cocoa and said, ‘Do you care if the marshmallows are shaped like hearts and stars?’ And I said, ‘I ONLY want hearts and stars’.”

A shy smile spread across your lips. It’s moments like these when you weren’t chewing his ear off that he finds you a little cute. Just a little.

“Is there a reason for those specific marshmallows?” he asked.

“They’re cute,” you pouted.

“Well, do I get a prize for knowing one thing about you?”

“Yeah, doing the dishes.”

“What!?”

“I cooked now you clean!” you said before running off to your room.

A tired, but willing Chan dragged his feet to the sink. He could just throw all of the dishes in the dishwasher, but somehow hand-washing while reminiscing about all the Fridays he’s crashed here with you barking like a chihuahua the next morning was much more fun.

His cheeks hurt from smiling too much by the end of that night.

A virgin… How the hell does cooking a bowl of rice for your roommate somehow make you a virgin!?

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the most outstanding meal you’ve ever made or could have cooked for him, but that ungrateful man who couldn’t even fry an egg shouldn’t be so picky!

But why, of all the insults and swears he’s ever thrown at you, was virgin the one that hit you the most?

Who cares if you were or weren’t one! What difference did that make you as a person, right!? At first glance, of course no one would be able to tell whether you were or weren’t one, but what did that say about people who did know you, like Chan and Yeri? Was that the kind of vibe you gave off? Were you too goody-goody, too play-by-the-rules? Was Chan right when he said your life lacked that spark, that spontaneity he seemed to so-crave?

Now that you thought about it, you haven’t gone out on a date or even found someone remotely interesting in a very long time… Since your first year of college at the very least.

Maybe you should show him how spontaneous you could get.

“That’s another thing I noticed last semester,” Chan’s charming accent shook you from your thoughts. You looked to the boy intruding in your room who leaned against the door frame, once again in only his pajama pants and a wet towel slung over his neck to barely cover his torso. He was built like he was carved from the finest slab of marble - how was his skin so white and smooth? “You tend to space out a lot, especially when you’re working on something.”

“How can you tell?”

“You get that dumb look on your face.”

“You mean the same one you have on all the time?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Thank you. What are you getting all dressed up for on a Tuesday night?”

“Miyeon said she was coming over like, ten minutes ago and I felt musty, so here I am, half naked in front of your door like this is the greatest dream you’ve ever had.”

“Is that the cheerleader from your game last weekend?” Chan hummed as a response, drying his hair with the towel around his neck and a toothbrush in his mouth. “Is she your girlfriend?”

You heard him choke on the toothpaste. “God, no, why do you think that?”

“I mean she kissed you… ?”

“Eh, it’s kind of an on-again-off-again thing, but nothing was ever official between us.” A sudden realization hit Chan and then that sly smirk that loved to tease you came back to haunt you. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Jealous of some cheerleader who’s clearly in love with a man who has no interest in her while he lives with another woman?” you scoffed. “Green with envy.”

“At least I have someone in my life!” he called from the bathroom.

That, too, hit a little too close to your heart. He was right - at least he had someone who kept him company, who adored him, who he could go out on dates with… And what did you have? A lousy roommate who uses your body wash.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked after coming back fully clothed. Your bed was much softer than Yeri’s, who had a rock hard firm mattress. Perhaps Chan should take his naps here instead.

“Nothing. What is there to do on a Tuesday night?”

“Lots of things! It’s Taco Tuesday at that food truck on campus, it’s Tteokbokki Tuesday at that Auntie’s restaurant by the bookstore, ooh and the record store down the street gives out free seltzer water for the hipsters.”

“Is that what you and Miyeon are doing tonight?”

“No, she just wanted to make-out I think.”

“How romantic…”

Chan laid on your bed and kept his thoughts to himself for a while. Somehow after only a few weeks of living together did you tolerate his presence enough to not nag him to get out of your room, let alone off your bed. While you studied the infinite pages of words in your textbook, Chan was able to steal a few glances. The way your brows furrowed in frustration, the messiness of your hair, the slight pout in your lips, it was all quite cute for someone as grouchy as yourself. Although he supposed he’d be an asshole, too, if he was studying seven days a week. You must be tired and frustrated.

Without you paying attention, he whipped out his phone and texted his date.

“Darn,” he sighed convincingly. “Miyeon just cancelled on me.”

“Good for her.”

“Well, now that I’m free, it looks like it’s just you and me tonight.”

“Sike, I have some homework to do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Chan hopped off the bed and peaked over your shoulder at your homework. He was so close that you could smell his woodsy cologne. You kind of liked it. Kind of. “Homework that’s due on Friday? God, _____, at least try to be cool, you nerd.”

“Hey!”

“Get dressed, those tacos and tteokbokki won’t be piping hot forever ~”

“I’m not going!” you tried to argue, but that annoying boy was already out of your room and putting his shoes on. Evil chuckling could be heard from the living room - what a weirdo. As your stomach violently growled, it was really hard to resist such a tempting offer of food, even if it meant going with Chan.

An impatient roommate danced his way to exit. “I’m walking out the door ~”

“Chill, will you?” you mumbled while throwing on your coat. “How are you going to invite me and then abandon me?”

“Then move faster.”

“You move faster…”

“Ah ~” Chan pinched your cheek lightly. “You’re kinda cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

“You know, with trying to kick up the spontaneity in your life and what-not.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It’s a cold Tuesday night and you almost heavily regret wanting to be spontaneous and cute and uncaring, all because a soundcloud rapper called you a virgin. But the thought of a hot cup of spicy rice cakes was enough for you to travel through the polar vortex. It helped that you weren’t the only one suffering.

“All those nights I crashed on your couch, I’d always buy a cup of this gold before heading over,” Chan admitted. “It was a shame for the days I threw it up.”

“Ah, no wonder your puke is red! I thought you were always almost dying.”

“Sometimes I wished I was.”

Of course the auntie knew Chan by the amount of times he’s stumbled upon the place drunk off his ass (“Wow, you’re walking straight and talking in sentences today!” “Ha ha, auntie…”). The fiery cup of rice cake was the perfect hand-warmer.

“Do I not give off the virgin vibe yet?” you half-joked.

A charming burst of laughter came from your annoying roommate. How could he forget that he called you that! “You’re not hung up on that, are you?”

“I just… I mean, do you think that’s the reason why…” you struggled to speak your insecurities into existence because once you did, that meant they were real and totally holding you back.

“Why what?”

“Tell me something - am I really that uptight? Does it make me seem… I don’t know, unapproachable? Unlikable, even?”

“Please, you are totally uptight.” A loud, unladylike groan echoed throughout the crowded streets of campus. “Unapproachable, yes. Unlikable? I mean, not necessarily? Some guys think that’s hot.”

“So what you’re saying is I’ll be single forever or marry some pushover.”

“Hey, don’t put words into my mouth! Look, if you really want to change how your aura appears to people, you already have! You’re out on a Tuesday night eating rice cakes with the sexiest guy you know. That’s progress in my book, all thanks to me.”

“Somehow you’ve turned my insecurities into praising yourself.” It was impressive, honestly. “You’re something else, Christopher.”

“Thank you!”

“What’s next on our impromptu tour of the town?”

“Ya like vinyl?”

“Huh?”

Chan said nothing else as he cut you off and walked right into the record shop and low and behold, potential buyers were holding skinny cans of flavored seltzer.

“C’mon, princess, there’s not enough seltzer for everyone!” Chan urged.

The vastness and number of collections of the record shop rivaled the local book shop down the street. Although much noisier and haphazard, the concept was still the same and the neon signs and signed posters gave the shop quite the personality. Actually, it was almost as if it was Chan personified.

In front of you was a basketball-loving ear-pierced punk-ass roommate who wore leather jackets in sub-freezing temperatures and didn’t know how to fold his laundry flipping through the Wu-Tang Clan basket. And there was you, the personified small local bookstore, watching him longingly and wishing you could be like him, who was cool enough to attract other cool people and be someone so approachable and likable. He was the complete opposite of you, and yet somehow you’re both here together, acting like you never had to kick his ass for using your toothbrush four too many times.

How was it possible to think that one day, someone could be in love with a plain and boring bookstore like yourself? Could someone like Chan love someone like you one day?

You hoped so.

Chan wondered where you were and found you looking at him with tired eyes. Of all the things to look at, you somehow could only look at him. With his dimply smile, he said, “Falling in love with me?”

Something made you want to say yes. “Did you find something you like?”

He silently gestured to you to come over with a lazy hand. As expected, he pulled out one of the Wu-Tang Clan records and played it on one of the modern record players that had one set of headphones at the station.

“Here, put these on,” he instructed while putting the over-ear headphones on. A smooth and unique rap style voiced over the equally-smooth instrumentals. It was unlike anything you’ve heard before. Perhaps Chan’s intellectual layers lied within his knowledge in music.

A slight pressure pressed against your right ear. You couldn’t see from your peripherals, but you could smell Chan’s rustic cologne again, and that itself already made you blush deeper shades of red than you could ever imagine. Since there was only one set of headphones, Chan obviously had no other choice but to listen to this track with you like this - invading your space bubble and making you weak in the knees.

“Do you like it?” you could barely hear.

“I do,” you replied. The song wouldn’t be over for another two minutes and Chan refused to move. “Is this what you like?”

“It’s inspirational to me.” The vibrations of his voice almost sent you into shock because wow, was he close to you or what.

He knew you were nervous. He could tell simply by how your shoulders squared the moment his ear pressed on the outside of the headphones. That’s yet another detail he’s come to notice while crashing on your couch and living with you. Whether you were nervous because he was shirtless after coming out of the shower or you were annoyed because he’d eaten all of the ice cream you were saving in the back corner of the freezer, you always straightened your posture upon seeing him because God forgive you ever show any emotion. Why were you like those stuck-up librarians at the hipster bookstores down the street who turned a blind eye to anyone who didn’t look like they read books?

Or maybe, just maybe, you were liking this. You liked being in close proximity to the sexiest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. You liked the almost-but-not-really skinship you almost-but-not-really shared. You were nervous, not annoyed, weren’t you? Or were you annoyed that you’re nervous around your most hated enemy?

Either way, Chan wins, and that’s all that mattered to him.

You spent most of the spontaneous night in the record store listening to soul, trot, pop punk, underground hip-hop, and everything in between. Quite literally in-between, as Chan would not stop pressing his face to yours because he refused to find a second pair of headphones for him to borrow.

“Stop doing that!” you whined for the fifth time.

“I wanna listen, too ~”

“Then go steal another set of headphones!”

“But I like this. It’s way more fun. And your cheeks are so hot that the radiated heat is warming my face up.”

You’re silent at that point forward because your cheeks thought their purpose in life was to burn as hot as the sun and serve as a radiator to intrusive boys who wanted nothing more than to listen to good music with you.

Honestly, what’s there to complain about?

The record store didn’t close until midnight and you practically stayed until then. At that point, Chan with his black hole for a stomach was hungry again and led you to the taco truck he talked about earlier.

“Is it Taco Tuesday still if it’s past midnight?” you wondered.

“It’s still Tuesday until the sun comes up in my books.”

Tacos weren’t exactly an easy-to-eat street food, so you used the tin foiled rolls as hand warmers until you were back in the comfort of your kitchen where you could happily eat greasy tacos with your sworn enemy.

“What do midnight tacos say about me now?” you questioned the food and vibe expert across the table.

“They say you like cliches and you care a little too much about what people think of you.”

“How the hell did you come up with that?”

“Please, Taco Tuesday is so cliche! And you conformed to it because you want to seem more playful and less of a stick-up-your-ass, am I right?”

The pout on your lips was enough of an answer. “Now I feel like a virgin in sheep’s clothing.”

“Hey, we all have to start somewhere.”

“Do you think I’m more likable this way?”

Perhaps Chan was a little harsh with his words the one night you cooked for him. He thought he would be able to know you front and back after nearly a month of living together, but it seemed that he was farther away from that than he thought. After all this time, he thought you didn’t care one bit about how people perceived your feisty self. Maybe instead you cared too much and you had built a wall to prevent others like Chan from knowing.

“You were always likable,” he admitted honestly.

“Please stop lying,” you groaned.

“I mean it! Even when you were yelling at me or trying to kick me off the couch or stealing back the food I was trying to eat, I never hated you. It was so much fun messing with you because you were not afraid to cuss me out.”

“And that makes me likable how?”

Chan shrugged. “I have fun when I’m around you. Do you think I would have kept coming back to crash here if I hated you?”

“Yeah, to torture me.”

“Well, to clear things up, I don’t hate you. And I bet my bottom dollar that you don’t hate me, either.”

“Sike.”

“You’re telling me you still hate me after the fun we had tonight? Or the night you watched me play and cooked for me? Or even the one night after Lucas’s Halloween party when I passed out here even though your heater was broken and you wrapped me up in your fuzzy blanket?”

Another blush spread across your cheeks. “You remember that?”

“How could I forget the first night you showed me any compassion?”

“Fine, you’re right, I don’t hate you… You’re, in fact, quite tolerable.”

Who knew Chan’s eyes could light up so brightly at such a mediocre compliment, if you’d even call it one. “You like me ~”

“Stop.”

“You’re gonna fall in love with me ~”

“Chan -”

“I bet you already have ~”

“Ok, I’m going to bed.”

“No, you aren’t!”

You tried to run out of the kitchen and into your room to lock the door, but Chan got to you just as you reached the living room. He entrapped you with his big, strong arms and held you in a suffocating hug, drowning out his giggles with your screaming. Your resistance was strong, but you were smiling brighter than he’d ever seen before. Today was a long day for both of you and the moment Chan rested his chin on your shoulder was when you stopped struggling to break free. His tufts of chestnut hair and slow breathing tickled your cheeks.

“Oi, wake up,” you demanded, hitting his forearms.

That only made him hold you tighter. “No.”

You stopped fighting him and let the poor boy rest on your shoulder. “You don’t think this is weird?”

“No. We’re just two roommates fighting, right?” he teased, shaking you in his arms.

“Yeah, fighting.”

“Do you think it’s weird?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Please.”

His giggle rang in your ear and made goosebumps travel throughout your skin. Then Chan did what spontaneous Chan does and surprised you by kissing your cheek with a loud, moist, audible smooch.

“A-Ah, Chan!!” you gasped.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

Before you could scold him further, he had already let go and went to his room. How long was he holding you? Because now you’re left stunned in the living room feeling the cold from the draft of your windows. Your cheek felt like it had been branded by his soft rose petal lips. It burned so much that you ended your night lying in bed staring at the ceiling cupping the tainted cheek.

“I hate him,” you mumbled to no one. Your words hold zero weight the moment you screamed into your pillow.

The first couple of days after the incident were a little weird, to put it simply. You circled back to your old habits of avoiding him and keeping conversations short and that didn’t slip past Chan for even a couple of hours. At first, he thought he might have ruined whatever weird friendship you had together, but the way you avoided him was not how it used to be.

You were embarrassed - dare he say even shy. Your avoidance held no malice and didn’t feel icy as it did last semester. Rather, you fled because you felt vulnerable. Your words were no longer full of insults, but instead were soft and sprinkled with stutters. It was like a scene from a drama set in high school where the cute shy nerd has a massive crush on the super sexy jock and won’t admit her feelings because she doesn’t think she has a chance. And knowing you, you would never admit to having feelings, so how was Chan supposed to get a confession out of you?

Cornering you was the only option he thought could work, but sadly that didn’t.

“Chan, c’mon, I have to use the bathroom,” you whined on the other side of the door.

He didn’t say a word when the door opened and steam spilled out into the halls. Yet again was he dressed only in his pajama bottoms and a towel around his neck, hair still damp and hanging loosely over his eyes. He took a step forward and you’re given no choice but to back up.

“What are you -”

You cut yourself off when your back hit the wall and Chan had you in the palm of his hands. Proximity was close to nothing as your toes touched and you could smell your body wash from his freshly-washed chest. Seriously, he still used your body wash!?

“C-Can I use the bathroom or what…” you stuttered.

He stared right in your eyes, then admired your cute nose, and finally down to your lips. He was teasing you! Like, actually teasing! He’s making you think that he wanted to kiss you! All of the possibilities of him making a move on you were just as equal as him not going through with it and your mind was racing like crazy and it was really starting to stress you out! Why, why was it stressing you out!?

Then he took a huge step back to let you through.

“All yours,” he whispered.

Well, that sort of worked… You didn’t say a verbal confession, but your face sure showed it. But no, that wasn’t enough. He needed to hear you say it. He had to do more, and he knew exactly what to do to push your limits.

For the whole week, whenever you did something for him whether it was answering a simple question or giving him a plate of whatever you cooked for dinner, Chan would kiss your cheek. That’s right, those soft rose petal lips would every-so slightly graze your cheeks almost everyday and even when you tried to scold him or fight back, you didn’t, as if you were stunned frozen every single time. This of course scared Chan - no emotion meant uncertainty on his end. Well, did you like it, or not!?

At some point, after a whole week of cheek kisses, you kind of… got used to it. Got used to the damn kisses, his flirtatious winks, the invasion of your space bubble, eating all of your food, using all of your bath products, taking unsolicited naps on your bed while you studied, all of it! You’ve gotten used to being around the man that is Bang Chan and you would almost admit that you liked being around him… almost.

And neither of you spoke up about it.

So… what were you two…? That’s right, you’re asking yourself the infamous ‘so what are we’ question - it’s really reached that point. No longer were you enemies or just plain roommates living separate lives, and of course you two weren’t dating, either. So did you consider him a friend? Sure, I mean you wouldn’t cook dinner for just anyone, right? But everything Chan did was not what normal friends do. At least in your experience - who knows if he’s doing this type of stuff to his other ‘friends’, like Miyeon.

Speaking of which, you hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you were almost convinced whatever relationship they had was over when she called off their date that one Tuesday - until Friday night.

The night was still young when you arrived home to your roommate mixing and playing with some beats over those impossibly loud speakers. It’s been a long week dealing with school work on top of figuring out your conflicting feelings of the boy in the next room and a quiet night without any games from Chan would be ideal, but life never worked out for you in that way, did it?

“Welcome home, darling ~!” he greeted playfully over the blasting bass before turning it down. “Cookin’ anything for dinner?”

The tiredness in your sigh didn’t go unnoticed. “Nah, I don’t feel like cooking tonight. I might do delivery if you’re up for that?”

The charming man came out of the room all dressed up like he was planning on going out and not coming back for the night. “That’s ok, I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“Miyeon’s taking me out to one of her friend’s birthday bash, or whatever rich girls like to do, before we all go out tonight.”

Miyeon, the gorgeous cheerleader. Somehow, you’ve completely forgotten her existence. Of course they were still talking, idiot! How could you even think that you could compete with someone like her?

“Are you her date?” you asked hesitantly, not wanting to know the answer.

“If that’s what she’s callin’ it, I guess so.” Chan adjusted his shirt collar and unbuttoned the top. “Do I look good?”

“Do you not consider her your date?”

“Not really. All I have to do is sit and look pretty.”

“You don’t think she’s asking you because she likes you?”

“Please, she probably only asked me because Mingyu said no.”

“Chan, you don’t know that for sure.”

You began to feel his frustration when he threw his hands in the air in disbelief. The truth hurts, doesn’t it? “Why are you so hung up about this? Why does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t!” you said a little too defensively. “I just don’t think you’re being fair.”

“How?”

“What if she really likes you? What if she’s asking you out to this thing because she wants you to know that? If she does like you, can you even say that you like her back?”

“Tch, no.”

“Then why even bother going and leading her on!?”

“Who said I’m leading her on? I’m just keeping her company!”

“What, so you’re going to have your arm around her waist, look into each others’ eyes and kiss and it’s going to mean nothing!?” At this point, you were screaming before you knew it. “Because that’s what you two normally do, right? Kiss each other like it means nothing?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means, nothing! I -” Chan sighed heavily. “Ok, it does sound a little ridiculous when I say it out loud, but I promise it doesn’t mean anything! Wait a minute, why am I even explaining myself to you? Are you jealous, or something?”

No, you’re not jealous. You’re angry that Chan was that kind of guy who played with women like they were toys or little pawns on a cheap chess set. You’re angry that you were one of them.

“Have fun tonight,” you said flatly, retrieving to your room.

“_____, wait.” You didn’t wait and instead locked your bedroom door. “Fuck.”

Well, Chan’s End Game plan to get you to confess out of jealousy backfired badly. The party wasn’t even real! Dammit, now where was he supposed to go looking like this!?

A small lightbulb went off in his head. Off to the grocery store!

Maybe going to your room was a terrible idea because now you were left to reflect on how you poorly reacted. You had your strong points about how Chan didn’t know how Miyeon truly felt about him, but the flipside was that she could have felt the same - that she was just using Chan as some accessory and he was totally ok with that. Who were you to judge the weird mutualistic relationship that they had as head cheerleader and captain of the basketball team? The concept seemed corny and straight out of a teen movie, but perhaps those movies weren’t too far off base as you thought.

You’re also left to reflect on what he said before you stormed off into your room - were you jealous? At first, your anger could easily be mistaken for jealousy, but what was the truth? Of course you’re furious that Chan played these stupid fucking games with you! But you’d be less mad if you were the only one he cared to fool around with.

You finally left the room around an hour after your sulking to bump into Chan’s rock-hard chest.

“Jesus Christ!” you screamed. “Chan, what the hell!”

“Sorry, I was about to knock!”

“What are you doing right in front of my room, you werido!?”

The cheeky, dimply boy held up a paper bag. “Buzzfeed said people who like desserts are emotionally-driven and a little cold-hearted, but sweet as sugar once they get their fix.”

“Buzzfeed said that or YOU said that?”

“Both.”

You shook your head tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I lied. I don’t have some extravagant party to go to tonight. I haven’t texted Miyeon in weeks.”

“What? Then why did you…?”

“I had this dumb idea that you would confess your undying love for me if I somehow made you jealous. Clearly that didn’t work.”

“You’re right, you’re dumb ideas never work.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that! Fine, let me try Plan B. Let me know it it’s also dumb.”

“Gladly.”

“_____, I like you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Y-You what?”

“I like you. A lot. Since you threw that blanket over me that one night last semester and I knew you didn’t truly hate my guts after all. And then I got to live with you - to witness your multi-faceted personality, to talk with you, and to get you to laugh at my dumb jokes and cheek kisses. Tell me, _____, am I dumb for falling for you like this?”

“Well… I’d say yes, but that would admit I’m stupid, too.”

“Oh?” He smirked playfully, taking a step forward. “And that’s because…?”

You mumbled something incoherent. Then, Chan dropped the bag of desserts and scooped you in his arms again, nuzzling his nose in all the ticklish places on your neck.

“Chan, stop!” you giggled.

“Hm? What was that?” he asked. “I can’t hear you ~”

“I like you!”

Finally, he stopped, lifting his head to look at you but keeping you safe in his arms. “Do you? I mean, really, do you?”

“I like you. Surprisingly a lot. And I hate it.”

“Music to my ears, baby,” he grinned. He buried his face once more to flower you with cheek kisses. “Say it again.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“Please ~” his kisses trickled down to your neck.

“It tickles!” you giggled some more. “If I say it, you gotta stop.”

“As much as that burdens me, fine.”

“I like you, Bang Chan.”

“See? Doesn’t that confession feel great? Like a huge weight lifted off your chest?” He pulled you in closer, to which you oblige and it only made his ego bigger and his heart beat faster. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too,” you sighed dreamily.

“Would you like dessert to commemorate this beautiful union, my love?”

“Sounds delightful.”

“Will you kiss me first?”

You pulled on his shirt collar to bring him down for a long, deep kiss that Chan thought he could only ever dream about. It left him dizzy and a little light headed and the way you break the kiss to let your sweet lips linger so closely was torturous and almost had him begging for more. Almost. Bang Chan did not beg.

“Whoa,” he sighed breathily.

“That’s what you get for the past couple of weeks.”

“Ah yeah, I suppose I deserve that…”

You left the stunned Chan to go ahead into the kitchen. “Let’s go, lover boy. I want some ice cream, please.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

EPILOGUE

“You two are what!?”

You and Chan looked at each other with fear written on both of your faces. Yeri was on the other end on speakerphone screaming curse words and ‘are you kidding me’s and ‘I fucking knew this would happen’s.

“Yeah, we’re uh, kind of dating now,” Chan repeated bravly.

“I cannot believe what I’m hearing! This is disgusting!! _____, what do you have to say for yourself, you hypocritical piece of poo!”

“I have nothing to say, I am just as ashamed as you are.”

Chan nudged you playfully. “Hey, we’re in this together, you know!”

“Ugh, I hate how I have to support this!” Yeri whined and cried and sobbed. “Just… Just don’t do it on my bed!”

“Don’t worry, apparently to Chan I’m a huge virgin because I know how to cook.”

“I was kidding!! And that’s gonna change now that I’m here -”

“Oh, gross! Stop! Please stop!” Yeri groaned. “I hate you both, I’m gonna kick your asses when I come back!”

“Love you too, Yer-bear,” you and Chan said in unison.

#bang chan #chan #skz #stray kids #skz chan #stray kids chan #college au #roommates au #chan scenarios #bang chan scenarios #chan imagines #bang chan imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #omg no more chan for a very long time im tired of him LOL

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twomoonstwosuns · 4 years

Text

friends.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, sweet fluff for the entire thing, age gap (reader over 18)

word count: 4.0k

a/n: feeling kinda meh about this chapter, i apologize if it’s not my best. enjoy the fluff, because we’re about to dive into some drama.

*updated masterlist with info about the number of remaining chapters! (but give me like 10 minutes so I can find the post and link things)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Is the Wi-Fi working for you?”

Poe looked up from his computer when you didn’t answer. Your head was propped up against your hand as you stared at the screen. “Y/N?”

You hummed, tearing your eyes away from the screen. “Sorry, what?”

He gave you a humorous smile. “Are you connected to the Wi-Fi?”

You glanced down at the bars at the top of your screen. “Um…oh, I guess not.”

Poe got up from the table to reset the router. You leaned back in your chair, head hanging over the back so your hair cascaded down the back of it, and groaned quietly. It was a late Sunday afternoon and you were sitting at Poe’s kitchen table doing homework. He had his computer open too, though you weren’t entirely sure what he was doing. A comfortable silence accompanied by soft music fell over you, interrupted only by the clacking of the keyboard. Beebs was off being Beebs. He had been bouncing between you and Poe, demanding attention until you finally caved. After a game of fetch with the purple dragon you bought for him that allowed you to procrastinate for all of two minutes, Beebs trotted off towards Poe’s bedroom to chew on his new favorite toy. Then you were stuck working again. You were quickly losing the will to concentrate, your head throbbing with exhaustion.

“What’s eatin’ you?” You lifted your head to see Poe back in his spot, arms crossed over his chest and an observant look on his face.

“This business marketing paper. The boring part of marketing,” you said, shutting your computer and pushing it away from you. “I need a break. What’re you working on?”

Poe just sighed heavily. You walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and peering at his laptop. There were multiple documents and webpages up.

“What’s eating you?”

Poe looked stressed. He grabbed your hand, bringing you around to perch on his lap. Your arm rested around his neck as his went around your waist to secure you in place.

“I’m…looking at Snoke’s dissertations, his research, the department head job…anything to give me an advantage.”

“Any word on when the interview is?”

“Not yet, but I got the names of some of the people interviewing for the position.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Armitage Hux?”

You narrowed your eyes as you thought. The name sounded familiar so you figured he was someone who taught at the university, but you didn’t know him personally. “I think I’ve heard the name before. If he’s a professor here, I haven’t had him.”

“Consider yourself lucky. He’s a pretentious jackass who thinks he’s above everyone else. Takes after Snoke.”

“Tell me how you really feel about him,” Poe snickered and gave your waist a squeeze. “Well, you’re the complete opposite of him, so I’d say that’s an advantage already. If there’s anything I can do to help you, let me know.”

Poe rubbed his eyes with his free hand. Resting your head against his, you ran your hand through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to make me fall asleep,” he said, leaning into your touch. You smiled at the pet name, a warm feeling settling in your chest.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Poe rested his head on your shoulder, his nose nuzzling your collarbone. You continued running your fingers through his hair, a content groan coming from him as he completely relaxed. Moments like these were few and far between and greatly cherished, when you could just relax in each other’s embrace. There was no sneaking around, no pretending like you weren’t a couple in a room full of people. You could just be together.

Beebs suddenly barked loudly from Poe’s bedroom, startling the both of you out of your peaceful state. You looked towards the noise. “What’s gotten into him?”

Poe reluctantly unwound his arms from your waist, looking towards the room as Beebs’ barks turned to huffs.

“Maybe he found a mouse,” Poe said, smirking when you glared at him.

“That’s not funny!” You yelled after him.

A loud knock on the door startled you again. You could hear Poe talking to Beebs, which meant he hadn’t heard the door. You tiptoed over to the door to peak through the peephole when you heard a loud, booming voice.

“Poe Dameron, I know you’re alive in there!”

Yanking the door open, you immediately recognized the man and woman on the other side, but their faces showed confusion as they looked at you.

“You are not Poe,” the man said with a joking tone to his voice. You laughed.

“No, but I know you,” you pointed between the two visitors. “You’re Finn, and you’re Rey.” You recognized them from the pictures Poe had around his apartment and on his office desk.

“Is Poe here?” Rey asked kindly, and you snapped out of your thoughts.

“Oh my god, yeah, I’m sorry.” You stood aside, letting them in. “Poe!”

Poe came out of his room with Beebs hot on his heels and you saw his face light up when he saw Finn.

“Buddy!” He engulfed Finn in a giant hug, patting him on the back. It had been far too long since they’d seen each other, and the reunion of two best friends made you smile. “What’re you doing here?!”

“I’m on leave for two weeks, had to come say hi. And I managed to steal Peanut from Florida for a few days.”

Poe found Rey from over Finn’s shoulder and grabbed her in a bear hug, lifting her from the ground. They both leaned down to say hi to Beebs, the happy dog hungry for their affection, as he laid on the ground with his belly open for scratches.

“Guys,” Poe beckoned you over to him. “This is Y/N. Y/N, this is—“

“Finn and Rey, I know,” you smiled, shaking both of his friends’ hands. “It’s so great to meet you, I’ve heard so many good things about the both of you.”

“Oh god, now I have to know what he said.” Finn joked. “Are you sticking around a bit longer?”

You grabbed the phone out of your pocket and grimaced at the time. “Another time, I actually have to head out.”

Beebs grabbed Finn and Rey’s attention once again, showing off a toy in hopes they’d play with him.

“You know you can stay, right?” Poe questioned quietly as you packed up your belongings.

“I know, but Karé’s expecting me home to help her study and if I’m not there soon, she will kill me,” you explained, really wishing you hadn’t made the promise to your friend so you could stay. “Besides, it’s not everyday you get a surprise visit from your best friends. You haven’t seen them in months; you need to catch up with them. I’ll see you later.”

Poe smiled appreciatively and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. You whispered a goodbye to him before politely waving to Finn and Rey.

“So that’s your girl, huh?” Rey asked as the front door clicked shut, elbowing Poe in the ribs and wiggling her eyebrows. Poe looked from the door to his friends and back, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

》》》

The nerves were back in your belly.

Finn and Rey still wanted to get to know you, so they suggested drinks. This felt as big as meeting the parents. Finn and Rey were important and if they didn’t like you…you didn’t want to think about it.

You drove over to Poe’s apartment and he intercepted you before you could head inside, instead getting into his waiting car. Your phone rang and you pressed a finger to your lips as Poe opened his mouth to say hi.

“Hi, mom.”

“You will never guess who’s back in town.”

“I know Ben is, but who else?”

“Ben told you, good! Well his father’s back, too. They want to know if we want to have dinner with them and his mother, and they want you and Tallie to come too. Are you available Wednesday night?”

“You’re going to make me drive an hour home just for that?”

“Please, honey? They really want to see you. If it’ll get you here, I’ll pay for your gas.”

You threw your head back against the seat of the car, groaning inaudibly in discontent.

“If it’ll make you happy, fine. But you’re paying me back for gas.”

“Thank you, honey. I’ll let them know and I’ll text you when we settle on a time and place.”

“Sounds good, unfortunately I gotta go, I’m actually a little busy right now.”

Bidding your mother goodbye, you hung up and tossed your phone into your bag. Poe raised his eyebrows. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, apparently I get to drive all the way home to go out to dinner with some family friends who just got back to town,” you said, still confused as to why it was so imperative that you attend. “So…we’re not going inside?”

“Finn found a place an hour away. He figured we might like that since we’re always at my apartment.”

“Wow,” you said softly, awed at the sweetness of the gesture of someone who was still practically a stranger. “That’s so nice of him.”

“He likes you.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

“I’ve told him enough.”

“Oh yeah? What have you told him about me?”

“All the good stuff. Like how you snore.”

“I do not!” You swatted his arm. Poe grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his and kissing your knuckles. He didn’t let go for the entire hour-long drive.

When you got to the bar, Poe grabbed your hand outside of the car and kissed you in the parking lot. Because there was no one around who could tell on you.

Finn and Rey had already arrived, commandeering a booth in the corner that wasn’t hiding from the action in the bar but a little out of the way to ensure some privacy. You sat down nervously as Finn joined Poe at the bar to get drinks.

“Can I just clarify something before Poe comes back?” You blurted as soon as Rey opened her mouth to speak. She nodded. “I’m not using Poe to get a good grade or whatever.”

“Relax,” Rey laughed. You blushed, muttering an apology and wondering where Poe was with drinks. “We never thought you were. Poe’s told us enough where we never even considered it.”

You felt your shoulders relax. “Ok, now I have to know what he said.”

Rey eyed the guys coming back to the table and gave you a look that said you’d talk about it later. You took a long swig of your beer, bursting into giggles with Rey at the reason why. Poe shook his head.

“Do I want to know?” He asked as he put his arm around the back of the booth and you shook your head as you patted his knee.

“Nope. Our secret.” You clinked your bottle against Rey’s and Poe felt excitement in his veins that you and Rey were already getting along.

“All right Y/N, there’s a few things Poe didn’t tell us about you,” Finn said. “What’s your major?”

“Marketing, which will let me do pretty much anything.”

“Do you know what you’re doing after school?”

“Not even in the slightest. I probably should start setting up job interviews though.”

“Family?”

“Mom, older sister, brother-in-law.”

“Is this twenty questions? Because if it is, it’s totally one-sided.” Poe interrupted.

“We’re doing a crash course on Y/N. Pun intended.” Finn said, making Poe roll his eyes.

“Ok fine, but let me sneak in a question or two.” You said. “Family?”

Poe’s eyes flickered between his two friends as he tensed beside you. You froze, realizing you might’ve struck a nerve but not knowing how. Your nerves were back in full force, a warm uncomfortable feeling settling in your chest.

“We were foster kids,” Finn said. “I never knew my birth parents.”

“And my parents died when I was five.” Rey added. They sounded so nonchalant about it, like they’ve said it a million times. A sorrowful look crossed your face.

“Don’t be sorry.” Rey shook her head, placing her hand on yours. “We got lucky with loving families and it made us who we are.”

“And we’re awesome, so…”

You admired their perspective. You weren’t very familiar with the foster system, knowing only what you know through word-of-mouth and poor TV portrayal, but you knew enough to know that kids sometimes ended up in bad situations when they all deserved good situations. And you were grateful that Finn and Rey ended up with good families.

“My dad walked out on my family six months ago to be with his mistress and we didn’t hear from him for two weeks,” you admitted, breaking the tense silence. Poe squeezed your hand. “Since we’re swapping family stories.”

Finn and Rey were silent before bursting out laughing, which caused you to laugh, and then Poe laughed. Uncomfortable family situations you had no control over whatsoever wouldn’t ruin a good time.

You learned that Rey was incredibly gifted and the youngest engineer at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida, working between engine maintenance on planes and shuttles to computer data processing. She had two rescue cats named Ochi and Deo and hated the humidity of Florida but loved the ocean and the lush green of the Everglades.

Finn was a Staff Sergeant in the Air Force based in California, quickly rising through the ranks with his skill and natural leadership abilities. He had just been assigned to the base in California and he was still getting used to all the sun. He and Poe met in high school first and made a plan to join the Air Force together until Poe’s father got sick. The band had been Finn’s idea, having spent three weeks holding auditions until he found his bandmates.

“Your friends are cooler than mine,” you said quietly to Poe before turning back to Finn and Rey. “So NASA engineer and Air Force pilot/sergeant. Definitely cooler than a famous musician.”

“Poe told you about that?” Finn asked. “Did he tell you about Skywalker Records?”

“Only that they were interested in you.”

“Well, we actually sat down with the founder Luke and Poe was so nervous that he tripped over his own feet and broke one of his Grammy’s.”

You wanted to feel bad for your boyfriend, but instead you busted out laughing. Poe groaned in embarrassment and you leaned into him, patting his stomach. You and Poe were probably a little touchy feely given that you with his friends, but if they had a problem with it they didn’t seem to care. You never got to act like a couple in public and you were taking full advantage of it.

“So, are you excited to graduate?” Rey asked. You nodded, but deep in the back of your mind you didn’t want to think about graduating, entering the real world and leaving the comfort of a daily school routine. And, ultimately, the possibility of leaving Poe.

“It’s been a long ride and sometimes I think I’ll forget everything I learned,” you vented. “And sometimes I feel like all college has done for me is teach me how to function on very little sleep and how to get really good at Mario Kart, like those skills are going to take me far.”

“Depending on what you end up doing, working on no sleep can help you.” Rey answered. Poe shot her a look.

“Don’t encourage it, it’s not healthy.”

“But it’s true.”

“You any good?” Finn interrupted, looking directly at you.

“At not sleeping? Very.”

“No, at Mario Kart.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Finn huffed and you furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Finn said, giving you a challenging look. “I just so happen to be the King of Mario Kart.”

You arched your eyebrow. Poe and Rey were looking at the both of you humorously.

“How good?”

And that’s how you found yourself back in Poe’s apartment, moving the coffee table out of the way while Poe hooked up the gaming system.

“How do you want to do this? No matter how good you think you are, your thumb is going to cramp after a couple of races. We’re going to need a break.”

“You don’t think you’re playing alone, do you?” Poe asked, looking between you and Finn. “You’re my girlfriend and all, Y/N, but I’m going to kick your ass.”

A smirk grew on your face. “Is that a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.” Poe stalked towards you, leaning down to your ear. “Just remember that I always win.”

Undoubtedly a little turned on, you had never been more determined to beat someone for. And Poe knew it.

“Fine. Finn and Poe against me and Y/N,” Rey said. “I hope you’re both prepared to get your ass kicked by a couple of girls.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Finn said, handing over a controller. Poe came back into the living room with a piece of paper and a pen.

“We’ll keep track of the points from each set of races. Whoever tallies the most at the end wins.”

As you picked your characters, Mario and Luigi respectively, Rey pulled you aside. “I think they’re strategizing,” she whispered, looking at Finn and Poe, who were huddled up together. Beebs just lay in the middle of the floor with his tail wagging, just wanting to be included.

“What is there to strategize on? You just race,” you said.

“I have an idea. Go for the speeder.” Rey said. “Finn will most likely go with something flashy that has better acceleration but the speeder is easier to control, which will give you the advantage when you get to the harder courses.”

You pointed at her with a smirk. “Good thinking.”

It was back and forth, round after round. You’d win a couple. Finn would win a couple. Then Rey, then Poe. Both teams took to over-the-top celebrations. The guys danced, you and Rey chest bumped. Celebratory shots after each round made their way into the game.

You were having the time of your life.

Entering the final race, the score was incredibly close, the guys leading you by six points. You needed to finish at least fifth in order to beat them. It was you and Finn, battling it out over who’d be crowned the best at Mario Kart. You had just gained the lead when you felt Poe’s hands on your hips. You tried to shake them off, but he wouldn’t budge. You ignored him, but he suddenly wrapped one arm around your waist and started pulling backwards away from the TV.

“Oh hell no! Poe!” you laughed, fighting against the pull, but it was useless. “Rey!”

You grabbed your partner’s attention and tossed her the remote as Poe pulled you back by the couch. You cheered victoriously when Rey got back on course and managed to pull back just behind Finn. You stopped fighting against Poe and rested your arms on top of his, hip-checking him as he buried his face in your neck and wrapped his other arm around you.

“You are such a cheater!” You were giggling uncontrollably as Poe placed kisses wherever he could. He kissed up your neck to your cheek.

“I’m sorry you didn’t think of it,” Poe said against your cheek, with humor in his voice. His lips moved all over your cheek. You turned your face and caught his lips, which he kissed multiple times as you laughed. The joyful crinkles by your eyes matched his.

Finn and Rey glanced at each other with knowing smirks. Their best friend was completely smitten.

Poe rested his chin on your shoulder as you both watched your partners finish the race. He subconsciously tightened his grip around you as Finn and Rey became neck and neck, you cheering as Rey crossed the finish line. She didn’t finish first, but she did beat Finn. Poe released you as you went to high-five Rey, picking up the pad of paper and writing down the scores. You waited anxiously as they tallied up the results.

“We win!”

You and Rey protested, grabbing the paper to double check the math. They had indeed won, and you knew Poe wasn’t going to let you live it down.

“A worthy competitor,” you stuck your hand out to Finn, who shook it. Poe stuck out his hand and you shook your head. “Not happening.”

He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. “That’s not very friendly.”

“You and me: rematch.”

“It’s a date.”

He pecked your lips and grabbed the bottles of alcohol to put away. “It’s late, do you guys just want to crash here? I’ve got the guest room and the couch.”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” Rey said, looking at Finn who nodded. “Go take Beebs out, we know where your extra blankets and pillows are.”

While Poe took Beebs out, you helped Finn and Rey get the couch set up, turned off lights, and shut things down for the night. You met them in the middle of the living room, not quite ready to say good night.

“You know, I really admire how strong you’ve kept your friendship after all these years while being thousands of miles apart,” you commented. “I’m terrified of what’s going to happen with my friends here and my friends from high school.”

“Sometimes you just find people in your life who are worth the effort. Rey and Poe are that for me. And you seem to be that way for Poe.”

“So, does that mean I’ve got your approval?”

Finn and Rey glanced at each other before looking back at you. You gave them a knowing look in return.

“Damn, she’s observant,” Finn whispered loudly.

“Not that we should have any say over who Poe chooses to date,” Rey stated. “But yes.”

You gave them a small smile, whispering your thanks that was interrupted with a loud yawn from Finn.

“Sorry, it’s exhausting kicking ass,” Finn said. Both you and Rey rolled your eyes.

“I’ll get better by beating Poe and the next time you come up, we’ll play.”

“Deal.”

It was your turn to yawn, the sleepy ambiance of the apartment practically pushing you towards bed.

“Go to bed, we’ll talk in the morning.” Rey said, hugging you. You were surprised by the action, but hugged her back nonetheless. Finn tapped you on the shoulder as you pulled away from Rey.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do with friends in the next room over.” Finn warned, pulling you into a hug. You chuckled.

“Poe’s gonna gloat all night, so don’t worry. It’s not happening.”

You caught Poe’s eye as he came in the door and seeing you hugging his friend. You expected him to give you a look for talking about him while he was gone, but instead you saw him carefully watching you with a smile on his face as he took off his coat. After just a couple of hours, you were getting along with two of the most important people in his life.

He couldn’t help but be happy.

tag list [open] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @fanfiction-trashpile @afootnoteinyourhappiness @easterncryptid @my-child-gaara @myrandom-fandomlife @onebatch--twobatch @the-cry-of-youth @p3nny4urth0ught5 @porgiez @umchrisevans @galaxy-of-stories @seeking-a-great--perhaps

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x reader insert #modern au #modern poe dameron #poe dameron fanfiction #back to you series

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shy-magpie · 5 years

Text

RQG 94

Players are ribbing Alex over how emotional the episodes are Alex: Elves all look the same to Bryn Bryn: poorly described characters look the same to Bryn Did it occur to either of you that there is a reason you weren't allowed in? That maybe it wasn't safe Ooh the guard was attacking them and was killed by a tomb trap Hamid is done with Howard Khufu is Pre-meritocracy this sounds worth a relisten when I'm not caught up on urgent matters Nuance Grizzop, he needs to confess to breaking in, not killing the guard, which you were game to string him up for Howard we didn't like you to begin with, quit digging Sasha have an ounce of understanding for Hamid Are you serious Howard? Oh God Alex is, the team is going to do the same thing just on the up and up Howard has gone from taking responsibility for everything to nothing; while still thinking he is the most important person in the world I get the temptation Sasha, but the paladins really should object to assaulting a prisoner in their charge Ben "oh no the roof of the orphanage"? The guards don't want to deal with the hassle and won't listen to the confession Oh really Grizzop, is it maybe like people should listen to context before closing the case? Drop the Tahan name and now they scramble ...to the wrong conclusion Hamid is still convinced of the power of talking it out. I wish that getting people to actually listen was the same as just saying the words in their hearing Azu has a problem power structure of the LOLOMG. Hamid is willing to reform it but not when they are trading on his name and perceived power to them in Paperwork is important Alex I don't like that call for a linguistic check, is there something wrong with the paperwork? Yeah the guards being on the level isn't the same as whether justice will be served Go Lydia! I love her comments on the justice system Finally taking a break to plan for the future "Grizzop and Hamid are a rounding error" on whether the celestial camel can carry all of them Azzop's main priority is Sasha, my heart They suggest looping Saira in before it occurs to Hamid. I know you don't want to launch straight into it, but less small talk; more curses and not actually murder Poor Saira Um she did ask so maybe also mention the "Apophis is your grandfather" Oscar, of course There you go And that's the break No we don't know how bad this is Did Alex take Bryn's wanting a character that could to turn into a dragon, to set up the breaking of this world's government? Grizzop jumps to Saira having them all killed to keep the knowledge down to family No Saira, you needed to know as head of the family I don't think anyone else needs to know including Apophis. Keep quiet and maybe check if the twins have claws. Do not do a press release announcing that The Meritocrats have kids and patronize their banks London is what? Other London riots? Random chaos? We just talked to Barrett How much does Apophis need to know they know? Dangerous game to pretend ignorance but so is letting him know they know Hamid hug of the episode? Poor Sasha wants to go back, Hamid is willing to go but wants them to have a plan and cure Sasha first. Grizzop, on the bow of Artemis, if you don't let him comfort her and back his play for five minutes... "we don't have Bertie to shout them down now"- Sasha is at least willing to let them try to cure her before they run off to London half cocked Alex did you think for a minute Hamid was just going to say "all's well that ends well" and take up the planing in the morning? Part of me wants him to open the conversation with "if you were willing to talk for five minutes before jumping straight to turning in my brother you might have found out there wasn't actually a murder". Most of me knows it's time for Hamid to be all leader-y and focus on the future. And maybe clear up their understanding of his own crimes before they jump to anymore conclusions Good let's talk Lydia is having fun Oh come on he didn't ask them cover up for his brother he asked for their help figuring out what to do in light of his father's false confession, specifically how to make Jr bear responsibility outside of the judicial system. He wasn't all in the right but he asked for five minutes and a conversation before they acted and Azzop wanted to hand over Jr immediately. If they hadn't had this conversation in front of Howard they never would have known Jr was a) cursed and b) not a cold blooded murderer Hamid is actually asking for honest clarification so he can understand what he did wrong Ow Hamid stepped right in it And Azzop don't see anything wrong on their end Actually Grizzop he explicitly didn't want to just exile Jr he wanted you advice on what he should do and you didn't even want to explain why other options wouldn't work before all but calling him evil He is honestly asking to learn why what he did was wrong so he doesn't do it again No he didn't make the decision on his own, he wanted to talk to his friends before making one Azu is at least willing to accept his apology There is the real hug of the episode. Azu thinks he was making a mistake but understands wasn't out of evil Oh Hamid, 1)prank gone wrong (because of GIDEON) is different than a co-conspirator died trying to kill you and 2)for the love of Aphrodite tell the paladins the full story on that before Grizzop gets ideas 3)have a possibly separate conversation with Sasha about how your family is messed up but not actually Mafia Was the sandstorm specifically so the party couldn't split on Alex again? Alex I swear she better make those saves Poor Hamid would have nightmares Good Hamid hit a nerve with Grizzop Oh Azu has faith that it would be OK if they chat it out? You know like Hamid wanted to?* The grammar is what breaks Ben, not the nearly party breaking fight? Azu has to roll to pick up that Sasha wasn't actually just complimenting the staff Oh Sasha, you do have people to care about and who care about you Hamid want to tell them about your past now? Oh so Grizzop sees no conflict with his assumption that the only justice is within the law and letting Hamid atone in his own way Thank you Sasha, he needs to explain rather than just keep calling himself a murderer without context *yeah I am going to keep on this hill, he wanted to talk before making a decision; you would have handed over a man for murder and call it a day without even hearing the context of Hamid asking for your input. That's before you get into him being nineteen asking advice from his paladin friends. Or that near as I can tell the only way Sr shows that he cares about them is providing money and shielding them from consequences. Or that I still think a major factor in Sr's decision is that if the guy responsible for protecting the vault breaks in and kills someone that's just on him; but if he fails to prevent his son from doing the same that looks like a multi-generation conspiracy that could destroy trust in the entire family and the bank they run.

#live blog thingy #Rusty Quill Gaming #rqg spoilers #RQG season 3 #RQG 94 #long post

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wyrmmaster · 6 years

Text

It did seem probable that plenty of spooks still haunted the Ghost Country. We had not been making war on them. But did they matter anymore?

Mischievous Rain said, “My husband is thinking that there are always survivors. I want to find a few that will bear witness to Ghost Country history back to the time of the coming of the first refugees from the fall of the Domination.”

All of the Taken and several score senior sorcerers were on hand for this strategy session. They all heard her statement about our relationship. The Taken were all aghast, with Whisper either dreadfully distraught or deeply apoplectic. Limper had him some kind of shaking, sputtering fit. My dearly beloved pretended not to notice any of that.

The un-Taken sorcerers were indifferent, however—excepting those from the Black Company: Buzzard Neck Tesch, Two Dead Chodroze, and Silent. They were croggled. Two Dead was prostrate with amazement.

Oh, I was going to take me some shit somewhen down the road.

Like one person that follows me has the context to understand what I’m gonna ramble about here - (however I will Continue to shill for Glen Cook’s The Black Company until every single one of you does) - but ramble I shall.

So! Our viewpoint character here, Croaker, has him a notorious reciprocated interest in the ancient almighty sorceress that governs the empire his mercenary company is serving, The Lady.

On her end, it’s a strange fixation on him she can’t quite explain, while for his part he used to write fanfiction (deadass) about her until he met her and then suddenly he’s struck with a few hundred reminders that she is, in fact, an ancient almighty sorceress with a blank look of confusion anytime someone brings up the word “morality”. A few instances of her flaying his soul just so can look at whatever’s in his head leave his crush dead in the water, but his buddies in the Company tease him about endlessly it a few years on, like earlier in this book:

One-Eye opined, “What it is is, the Lady’s still got a boner for Croaker so she stashed him someplace safe. The rest of us just live in his shadow. Watch the sky. Some night there’ll be a carpet up there, Herself coming out to knock boots with her special guy.”

“What’s her hairstyle like, Croaker?” [They were talking about pubic hair before this.]

...

“You’ll be the first to know when I get a look, Otto.” I did not plow on into the kind of crudities the others found entertaining. They took that to confirm my unabated interest in the wickedest woman in the world.

The real story was, I was afraid that she might be listening.

Now, The Lady has a group of Immensely Powerful wizards enslaved to her called the Taken. They vary from twice her age to maybe 21 - all of them are bugfuck terrified of her but a few, like Limper and Whisper mentioned above, try their damnedest to get away with disobeying her. They do that to try and off the mercenary company Croaker works for. They have their reasons to hate them, and especially him, because he outed one of Limper’s betrayals of the Lady and was the reason Whisper was enslaved in the first place.

Mischievous Rain would be the newest of the Taken and the most heavily favored by Mama, ostensibly.

However! Myself and a good chunk of the people that have read this entry into the series have the running theory that Mischievous Rain is actually The Lady in disguise, using several overlaid excuses to play house with her weird crush.

So, a room full of imperial wizards, and every Taken (the Taken, at least, are implied to be aware that Rain is actually The Lady) just heard their terrifying ageless horror of a boss declare Random Aging Medic her husband.

Limper and Whisper just heard her declare the man they’ve been trying to kill for the a good long while not only her consort, but her husband.

And Croaker and the Company aren’t aware of that layer to it; to them Mischievous Rain is Mischievous Rain. Croaker’s just worried about the kind of ribbing he’s going to get for being the object of not one but two world-endingly powerful, mind-numbingly evil sorceresses’ affections.

#long post

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moonlitcryptid · 6 years

Text

Sam Winchester : High School Reunion Series

Pair: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 3.1 K (got carried away WHOOPS)

Warnings: CURSING AS ALWAYS. Implied smut ;)

A/N: Why am I such trash I swear to Chuck...

“No. No! Absolutely not!” (Y/N) yelled, running out of the library to their bedroom.

“Oh, come on (N/N)! You can ask him! I swear he’ll take it so much better than any guy from high school!” Dean belted in his usual gruff voice, following close behind. “I mean, it’s not like you’re confessing your undying love for him!”

(Y/N) whipped around, “Oh sure! ‘Hey Sam how are you? Is that a new flannel? By the way, can you pretend to be my husband at my upcoming high school reunion that way I don’t feel as bad about not becoming a doctor or lawyer or scientist like all my other friends?’ You mean like that, Dean?!”

Dean just nodded, “Yep, sounds good.”

(Y/N) rolled their eyes and groaned in frustration. Their high school reunion is in less than a week and they were hoping to find a date. However, being a hunter basically killed one’s social life as if it was a repeating Tuesday. No one they talked to was willing to be their date. Not even Gabriel! Their final option was Team Free Will. Unfortunately, Castiel was busy with other matters and (Y/N) didn’t want to risk bringing Dean. Open bar and lots of women… So, much to their dismay, they had to ask the only person they were avoiding; Sam Winchester. The man that they’ve had feelings toward ever since the Brothers saved them 5 years ago.

They were so close to their room, the doorknob at the end of their fingertips, until a large hand spun them around and gripped them by the shoulders.

“Ask. Him.” Dean threateningly whispered, close enough to (Y/N)’s face for them to smell the beer he just had on his breath. Both of their heads whipped when they heard the door to the bunker slam shut.

“I’m back with food!” The Moose called out, walking to the table and slamming the food down. He almost went down with it as someone was shoved into his back.

(Y/N) almost growled at the older Winchester, murder in their eyes. Dean held his hands up in defense, as if he totally didn’t just push (Y/N) into his brother, and picked up his food before making himself scarce.

“You ok?” Sam asked, snapping (Y/N) out of their murderous trance. They looked up at him, wide-eyed and embarrassed.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Just Dean being an ass, but what’s new?” (Y/N) chuckled, and Sam joined. That laugh melted them a bit and helped them to relax around Sam.

“I know that feeling too well. But hey, Dean’s gonna be Dean. Anyways, I got your favorite. You wanna sit and eat with me?”

“I would love to!” (Y/N) beamed, taking a seat and digging in as the younger Winchester plopped down across from them. They started talking while eating, discussing a range of things from past cases to books they’ve read. However, Sam was doing most of the talking. (Y/N) was mainly thinking about how to ask Sam to be their date. It could either go really well and their feelings wouldn’t be so one-sided, or it could go up in flames (I swear to Chuck if there are any jokes) and they will crawl in a hole to shrivel up and die. Then come back because (Y/N) is a part of the team.

After they finished eating, Sam offered to take the trash and (Y/N) sighed. He’s a real gentleman. One of the many reasons that they fell for him. Not to mention he’s incredibly smart, funny, and good god his figure. (Y/N) could watch him work out for DAYS. They could barely contain how much they loved him. Now (Y/N) let out a sigh of sorrow. They’re like a sibling to Sam. All those missions and late nights spent talking. It never really meant anything past friendship.

Sam soon came back to find (Y/N) spaced out, arms tucked under their neck. He snapped his fingers in front of their face and they yelped, almost falling off their chair until a handsome brunette caught them in their arms. (Y/N)’s wide eyes stared at Sam’s as he put them back in the chair and smiled the most perfect smile.

‘Stop it (Y/N)...’ They cleared their throat in embarrassment.

“You alright, (Y/N)? You really zoned out there.” He laughed, obviously amused by what just happened, but (Y/N) wasn’t laughing at all. They’re mind was racing, contemplating whether they should ask Sam now or forever hold their tongue. “Earth to (Y/N)?? You ok?”

“Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine, I just… Well, I just wanted to…” Sam’s now-worried face urged (Y/N) on and somehow gave them the courage they needed. They took a deep breath and quickly asked, “I wanted to know if you would be my date for my upcoming high school reunion.”

There was silence for a few seconds before Sam spoke, “That’s it? I thought you were about to tell me something bad. Like you were dying. Or you saw Dean with a girl.”

Sam gave a face and (Y/N) chuckled now, a little relieved that he didn’t say no.

“Ok, but by date, do you mean…”

“Preferably husband or fiance. I don’t really feel like bringing my ‘boyfriend’ to it. I just want my friends to feel like I did SOMETHING with my life.” (Y/N) explained. Sam nodded along and replied as soon as they finished.

“I’m in. I’ll be your husband.”

“Wait, really?!” (Y/N) almost yelled. He nodded, laughing at how utterly baffled they looked.

“Why are you so surprised? Did you really think I would say no? I would love to help you show off to your old classmates. Besides, you never show us ANYTHING from when you were in high school. I need more material to tease you with.” (Y/N) scoffed and elbowed him in the ribs. He yelped and made a face (you know the one) while rubbing the area. “Jerk.”

“Dick.”

“Nope. No. Nuh-uh. Uggh!!” (Y/N) frustratedly yelled, throwing different clothes from the closet onto the bed. Soon Dean came in, wondering what was going on.

“Hey, what’s all the whining about? You’re going on a date with Sam, be happy.”

“First of all, it’s not a date Dean. Second, I can’t find an outfit to wear for tonight. I mean, Sam is built like a fucking god, and I’m just the servant.”

“Well, doesn’t that sound like a fun sex game.” Dean saw the face (Y/N) was giving him and felt like a scolded child. “Sorry… Look, how about the outfit from that werewolf case a year ago?”

“Tried it.”

“Vampire?”

“Nope.”

“Vampire case 2?”

“No.”

“Vampire case 3?” (Y/N) grew tired.

“Dean, I swear to Chuck…”

“Alright, fine.” He put his hand over his face, thinking before he spouted out, “What about from the Leviathan case? The only one you ever dressed up for.”

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up. “Dean you’re a genius!! I forgot I had that, it’s been in the back of the closet all these years!!”

“Hey, glad I could help. Now you should hurry up because Prince Charming is waiting and I’m only giving you Baby for the night. If I see a scratch on her…”

“Yeah yeah, dad, I’ll have her back by curfew clean as a whistle.” (Y/N) joked as Dean waved it off and walked out.

An hour later, (Y/N) stood in front of the mirror and took a deep breath. They weren’t really worried about how they looked, because, in all honesty, they looked stunning. (Y/N) was more worried about how Sam thought they looked. A knock came at their door, and they turned around to find the younger Winchester in a suit. Not his usual FBI suit either. This one was newer. Nicer. Damn.

He was leaning against the door frame and looking at his watch.

“Hey listen if you wanna get there on time we have to g-” The rest of the sentence failed to leave his lips as he looked up at (Y/N), his breath taken away. (Y/N) sheepishly shifted under his gaze, too nervous to look him in the eyes. “You - I mean, you, um… You look beautiful.”

Now (Y/N) felt the blood rush to their cheeks, but all the nerves about how they looked washed away. “Thank’s Sammy. You clean up pretty well, too. Now, we should go.”

An hour filled with driving, singing, and laughing later, they arrive at (Y/N)’s high school. They came from a small town on the outskirts of a major city, so (Y/N)’s graduating class was a few hundred people, but by the looks of it, everyone and their mother came. Their old gym was almost packed like a can of sardines.

(Y/N) felt as if they were stuck to the floor. They couldn’t do this. What were they thinking? High school was the time of fake friends, depression, and anxiety. Being here, seeing all of these people… This is the sad truth that (Y/N) never told the Winchesters. They weren’t always the badass hunter that the brothers know now. Deep inside, there’s an insecure child that rarely wanted to get out of bed. (Y/N) could fight demons and hellish creatures all day long, but this was one demon (Y/N) could barely get a grip on. Right now, it was winning.

They were about to bolt right back to the car until a warm hand placed itself on the dip of their back.

“You ready?” Sam smiled, and in that smile (Y/N) felt all their worries melt away. They realized the person they needed most is here, and he wasn’t forced to be here. He actually wanted to come along. Sam really was (Y/N)’s rock, and they were glad that he was here. With him, they thought they stood a chance.

(Y/N) nodded, feeling a bit stronger than they were a minute ago. They linked arms with the giant and walked over to a secluded table in the corner of the gym. The music wasn’t too loud, it was close enough to the bar and restrooms, and not many people sat here. Perfect. Of course, their little paradise was disrupted by some old friends.

“(Y/N)! Oh my god, how have you been? You dropped off the face of the Earth a few years ago!” Bella questioned, gripping (Y/N) in a bear-like hug with an unsettlingly large smile on her face. Behind her was Chris and Alex, other former friends of (Y/N). All of them were beaming at them like they depended on it. Oh, what (Y/N) wouldn’t give for a shapeshifter right now…

“Uh, I’ve been really good, Bella. Yeah, I left the area a few years ago after, umm…” (Y/N) couldn’t tell them the real reason why they left. Supernatural creatures and civilians do not mix. Luckily, Sam stepped in.

“After they met me. I kinda stole (Y/N), but it was worth it. Oh, sorry, let me introduce myself. The name’s Sam Winchester. I’m (Y/N)’s husband.” Sam winked at (Y/N)’s and wrapped his arm around their waist. They turned into a tomato. Why was he so good at acting?

“Husband!? No way! (Y/N), why didn’t you invite us to the wedding?” Alex chimed in, looking as if (Y/N) just kicked a puppy in front of them. Why was everyone so dramatic today?

“Well, we didn’t have an actual wedding, just married in a courthouse since we move around a lot. Besides, you guys are probably busy all the time with your own lives.” (Y/N) explained, hoping they would move on. Sadly, they would not.

“Yeah, you’re right. We are busy a lot. With me going for my doctorate in microbiology, Alex’s law firm, and Bella’s hospital rounds, we’ve barely found time for even this.” Ah yes, there was the punch that made (Y/N) feel inadequate. “So, what do you guys do?”

“Oh, we’re with the FBI,” Sam stated, pulling out both of their fake IDs. (Y/N) was impressed and relieved. They didn’t even think about that. “That’s actually how we’ve stayed together, too. Our work takes us all over, but I’m happy we’re always together. I don’t know what I would do without them by my side.”

With that, Sam’s hand swooped down to tightly grip (Y/N)’s as he pressed a feather-like kiss to their temple. (Y/N) friends swooned, obviously impressed by what (Y/N) has ‘accomplished’. Meanwhile, they were blushing so hard they thought their head would explode. Sam was so good at acting like a loving husband. Almost too good. It was filling (Y/N) with false hope, but dear Chuck they never wanted this fantasy to end.

Sadly, the facade had to come to an end. Soon enough, the reunion ended and everyone went their separate ways, leaving (Y/N) and Sam to drive back to the bunker. The Impala wasn’t filled with laughter like before. Now it was awkward one-sided conversation from Sam and silence from (Y/N).

“That was a lot of fun.”

“...”

“So, were you as successful as you wanted to be?”

“...”

A few minutes later, Sam’s voice died out as he stopped trying to talk and just focused on driving. Not even music filled the car. It was pure, unnerving silence. And both of them knew that this was the loudest silence they’ve ever heard. Halfway into the drive, the silence still bearing heavily down on them, Sam had had enough. He pulled over into the grass and turned off the car, leaving (Y/N) confused. If they didn’t know any better, they would’ve thought they were about to be murdered.

“What have I done wrong?” Sam questioned harshly. (Y/N) was more confused.

“What do you mean? You haven’t done anything wrong.” They replied calmly, earning a huff from Sam.

“Yeah right. You’ve been ignoring me ever since the reunion ended. Is it me? I mean, you asked me to be your husband and I tried to be the best damn husband I could. I thought you were having a good time, so I have to ask.” I grew visibly upset, and (Y/N) felt guilty.

“NO! No, god Sam I’m sorry. It’s not your fault I just…” They faltered, not wanting to let him know the real reason why they were so tight-lipped the ride back. He grew even more upset, almost angry.

“Just what, (Y/N)?! We were doing so well up until now. We’re so close, usually I can tell what you’re thinking, but right now it’s like you’re putting up every fence you can!!” Now (Y/N) was getting stirred up.

“Well, I’m sorry, ok?! I just have a lot on my mind right now!”

“So let me in! I’m always here for you, you know that!” (Y/N) softened a tiny bit.

“Sammy…”

“Don’t ‘Sammy’ me!! TELL ME!” (Y/N) was done being yelled at.

“I LOVE YOU!” (Y/N) yelled out, exasperated and embarrassed that the truth is out. Sam just sat there, any traces of rage replaced with shock and another emotion that (Y/N) couldn’t quite read. Now (Y/N) had tears welling in their eyes. “I just… Tonight, for once, we were normal. We were together. That’s all I ever wanted, Sam. I love you so much, but I never wanted to risk our friendship. We have a great dynamic that we spent years building. Tonight was fun, but I knew you didn’t feel that way about me, so I tried to distance myself away from you. I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) stared at their hands in their lap, suddenly fascinated at their cuticle situation in order to avoid the younger Winchester’s intense gaze, but now the silence was getting to them.

“Sam, say something. Anythi-HMPH!” Sam forcefully grabbed (Y/N) face and slammed their lips together, their lips molding and moving in harmony. It didn’t take long for (Y/N) to respond once they figured out what was going on, wrapping their arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around their waist, moving them to straddle his lap in the driver’s seat. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other as the makeout session went on for what felt like an eternity. They would barely pull away for a second to breathe before going back in with such ferocity. Some tongue here, some teeth there, but love was everywhere.

Eventually, they figured they should slow down, so they pulled away for good this time and rested their foreheads together. Sam took in the sight of (Y/N); breathing heavily, almost-bruised lips, hooded eyes. Sam figured he didn’t look much different, but he didn’t care. He had the person he loved most in his arms.

“That was, um… Really… Wow.” That was all (Y/N) could say, too giddy to even think straight. Sam was the same.

“Yeah. I know…” He beamed and they giggled, still seated in his arms on his lap. Sam cleared his throat, gaining (Y/N)’s attention. “Listen, I know that tonight was supposed to be fake, but I really can’t help it. I can’t just fake my feelings for you. Everything I did tonight, everything I want to do. It’s all real. I love you so much (Y/N). More than I should in our line of work, but I’m willing to put it all on the line for you. You’re worth everything.”

(Y/N) teared up again, this time from happiness. They felt truly happy in his arms and they didn’t want to move. They didn’t have to. They had all the time in the world.

Well, at least that’s what they thought. Sam’s ringtone blasted throughout the car and he almost rushed to pick it up. Almost.

“Sammy, where the hell are you guys? You were supposed to be back an hour ago.” Dean’s voice ripped through.

“Sorry Dean, something came up. We’ll be back on the road soon.” Sam replied. Dean sounded annoyed.

“Well hurry up.”

“Don’t rush us, Dean. We’ll get there when we get there.” (Y/N) snapped back. Dean hesitated.

“Wait, so… You two are alone together in my baby.” He put two and two together and got aggravated. “I SWEAR IF YOU DO ANYTHING IN MY CA-”

Sam hung up and threw his phone in the back seat before turning his unwavering attention back to (Y/N).

He gave a wolfish grin as his hands that were on (Y/N)’s back moved south. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not quite ready to go home yet…”

I AM SUCH TRASH

I’m not opposed to writing smut, I just don’t wanna write it yet.

Lemme build up to it lol.

#Sam Winchester #Supernatural #Supernatural oneshot #Supernatural Imagine #Supernatural x Reader #Sam Winchester x Reader #Sam Winchester Oneshot #Sam Winchester Imagine #Castiel #dean winchester #high school reunion imagine #high school reunion #high school

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diveronarpg · 6 years

Photo

Congratulations, HONEY! You’ve been accepted for the role of PARIS with a faceclaim change to Luke Pasqualino. Admin Jen: I had high expectations for Priam as he’s such a nuanced, multi-faceted character but you exceeded them by leaps and bounds, Honey! You captured all the concepts that I was hoping to see someone explore and unravel such as his identity, search for purpose and moral ambiguity and you added all these little details that built off of that but also made the characterization wholly yours. My favorite one was the detail regarding his knack for fixing up cars and the backstory you built off of that in terms of his family’s corporation. I can honestly keep going for hours because there was just too much to love about your app. It’s left me absolutely thrilled to see how you’ll develop him on the dash! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Honey

Age | 22

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | I’m a final year college student who’s doing a short film as my final project, which might take up some time. But I’m taking less classes this semester so that kind of evens out the workload a little. I’d place my activity level at about a 6 (maybe even 7 if I’m feeling particularly inspired) out of 10.

Timezone | GMT +8

Current/Past RP Accounts | apcstasies.tumblr.com

In Character

Character | PARIS ; Priam Taravella (FC: Luke Pasqualino)

What drew you to this character?

The fact that everything about Priam is manufactured, a carefully curated collection of personality traits and mannerisms that he can turn on and off at will whenever it suits his purpose. By all intents and purposes – be it business or personal – Priam is a self-made man. But even though his perfectly-crafted veneer is his greatest strength, paradoxically, it is also his biggest weakness. There is a void inside him, a hollow point that eats away at him. It is a slow decay, but it consumes nonetheless. Personally, I feel that this emptiness he feels is a lack of human connection, and for all his ambition and apparent desire to rise to power, what he truly seeks is a sense of belonging. Priam wants so badly to be seen, but ironically the way he makes himself visible is by putting on a mask.

I feel like he probably struggles a lot with his upbringing and his resentment towards his parents. On the one hand, he’s very aware that as far as childhoods go, his isn’t terrible. He grew up extremely privileged and never wanted for anything (besides his parents’ affection, but that’s besides the point). Sure, it sucked that his parents were distant and that he’s had all these expectations placed on his shoulders from such a young age, but Priam is very aware of the fact that there are many people who would give anything to trade lives with him. He was deeply unhappy with his life growing up, and when he was younger he had been more inclined to complain about how much he hated his life, as children are wont to do, but then everyone around him constantly reminded him how lucky he was and so he learned to bury his discontentment. He carried his unhappiness inside him like a cancer, letting it fester until he was sick with it.

I also find his potential struggles with self-identity to be a compelling part of his character. At what point does the mask become the man? When does the line between the part he plays and his true self start to blur? Does he ever catch himself in the middle of a moment and think–– am I still pretending, or is this truly the man that I have become?

+ Bonus: I just find it amusing that he’s named Priam.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

TENDER LIKE A BRUISE

Love is an abstract concept that Priam can’t quite grasp and it shows. Still, there is a part of Priam that believes in love. Perhaps it is because he’s never had it that he wants it this badly, or perhaps it is the way he’s heard Julianna speak of love. Romantics talk about all-encompassing love, the kind of love that consumes you until you can think of nothing else except your dearly beloved and being with them. Priam is no stranger to being consumed, except it is poison that fills his veins and a monster within that eats at him inside out. As a teen, he’d thought that he could fill the void inside of him with love, only he never quite understood what love meant. He’d confused love with lust and, sleeping with girls, and boys, and girls and boys, but even if it kept the hunger at bay for a little while, the emptiness alwayscrept back in. Whether Priam realises it or not, he wants Juliana to be the one who might finally be able to carve a home in his ribs. Maybe they’re not in love, but when he’s with her, something in his chest settles, and maybe, maybe, maybe, that will be enough.

WE MUST BE KILLERS

Priam’s never had much of an appetite for violence, but if there’s anything he’s learned from his parents, it’s that the means are always justified by the ends. And if that’s the case, then what’s a little bit of spilt blood in the grand scheme of things? But just because he can understand the necessity for violence doesn’t mean he’s any more willing to be an active participant. He’s a hypocrite and a coward; he may not ever be the one pulling the trigger, but he is the one who looks away and lets it happen. It makes the ugly parts of the job easier to stomach, soothes his conscience some. But things are changing, tensions are rising, to remain passive is to bare your neck your enemy and pray they won’t tear your throat out. Priam is a survivor, and if it comes down to killing someone or being killed, he knows which side of the line he wants to fall on. He’s a liar, he’s manipulative, he’s ruthless –– he’s never been a killer, but perhaps it’s time to change that.

SHIFTING IN THE LIGHT

Despite being neck-deep in the corruption of Verona, he likes to think that he has some morals, or at least a sort of ethical code that he follows. People like him are the worst, criminals who refuse to acknowledge themselves as such. For Priam, part of the reason is pride, but fear is a factor as well, even if he won’t admit it. He had been the one to go to Cosimo, and the man has always treated him as something of a son, but sometimes he does wonder if he’s sold his soul to the devil and it’s days like those that he can’t bear to look himself in the eyes. But Priam can’t run from the person he’s become forever. One day he’s going to look in the mirror and not recognise himself, and he’ll wonder if maybe the mask is stuck, or if he’s just become the mask. He’s grown into a man, hardly recognisable as the little boy he used to be, and only time will tell whether that’s a good or bad change.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character?

Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve killed off one of my characters : )))

(That means yes, please feel free to kill Priam.)

In Depth

In-Character Interview:

• What is your favourite place in Verona?

“My favourite place?” Priam echoes. The slight twist of his lips hints at amusement, but it is the sort of indulgent humour one might direct at a particularly precocious two-year-old. It’s an expression that borders on condescension, but the reporter is either oblivious to it or doesn’t much care, continuing to watch him with expectant eyes. Over the years Priam has found that people are usually too enamoured by his pretty face to really notice the ugly parts of him that lurk underneath the surface, and it feels like a challenge, almost –– sometimes he toes the line just to see how much he can get away with by virtue of being young and beautiful.

“You’re standing in it,” he finally answers, the words accompanied by a vague sweeping gesture of his hand, inviting the reporter to take a proper look at the garage they’re currently in. This is the first time anyone other than him has been in there, and a part of Priam tingles with the wrongness of a stranger in a space that had before this been only for him. Still, it’s a small sacrifice he has to make. People love to be reminded that the rich are regular people with regular hobbies behind the glamour of wealth, and if Priam throws them a bone now, it’ll keep them from digger further into other truths he’d rather not divulge. “I apologise for the mess, by the way,” he adds, allowing a sheepishness he doesn’t actually feel to seep into his voice, “I probably should have cleaned up a little, but it slipped my mind. Don’t usually let people in here, y’know?” Hook, line, and sinker, Priam thinks, watching the man flush slightly at the implication that he’s the exception.

• What does your typical day look like?

“A lot of paperwork,” he answers with a laugh, and then, “No, really. I left Taravella Corporation because I got tired of sitting around in an office all day. Albeit it was a very nice office, but I’ve always been more of a hands-on kind of guy.” He pauses to pick up a wrench from his worktable, pretending not to notice the double entendre, or the way the reporter’s gaze catches on his fingers as they wrap around the shaft of the wrench.

“I traded aerospace for automotive, thinking with a smaller company I’d get to be more involved with the actual manufacturing process, but I still spend most of my day signing papers.” He looks up from the car then, sharing a wry smile with the reporter before adding, almost cheekily, “Except now I get to do it in a smaller office.” Despite the reporter being the only other person in the room, Priam lowers his voice anyway, letting the reduced volume provide the illusion of candour. “Some might say it’s a downgrade, but it’s nice to have a space that finally feels like it’s mine. It sounds silly, but back at T-Corp, I always felt like I was just messing around in my old man’s chair.”

“Anyway,” he says, talking normally once more, “After work I like to grab some drinks with my friends, maybe dinner with my fiancée if I end early enough. I’m really not all that different from other guys in their twenties.” If other guys his age routinely met up with members of one of Verona’s most well-known mobs, of course, but he decides to leave that last bit off the record.

• What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

“I accidentally wore mismatched socks to work once,” he deadpans, and then more seriously, “I suppose it depends on how one defines ‘mistake’, but to me, a mistake is something you wish you could undo.” He ducks under the open hood even as he continues to talk despite previously having made it a point to make eye contact whenever he answered a question, knowing that the reporter will interpret it as him feeling more comfortable being honest when he’s not actually looking at the person he’s talking to.

“For a while, I had wondered if leaving the family business had been a mistake,” he admits, sounding genuine even as he lies through his teeth. Priam had never been more sure of anything, determined to forge his own path to the top without the burden of his family’s legacy weighing him down. “But that worked out pretty well for me, I’d say, so no regrets there.”

• What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

“Picture this––” he starts, “You’re five years old and your father brings you to work.” It’s perhaps his earliest memory of his father. Before that, the man had been a mere spectre in Priam’s life, the bogeyman that his nannies had used to keep him in line. Your father wouldn’t want you to use that word, or keep your voice down, your father’s resting in his office. That day at Taravella Corporation’s main office had been the first time they’d spent more than half an hour in the same room. Back then, Priam had thought it had been some sort of a father-son bonding experience, but he knows better now.

“He showed me around, brought me to all the different departments before he took me to his personal office. There, he said to me: this will all be yours someday.” On some nights, he can still hear his father’s voice, still remembers grappling with the realisation that he’s not so much a son as he is the heir to an empire he never asked for. It’s not a happy memory, but he recounts the tale with a carefully calculated smile that’s just this side of sheepish and a half-shrug, proud and self-deprecating all at once, “That’s quite a lot to ask of a young boy, don’t you think?”

• What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

War. It’s such an ugly word, but there’s hardly any point debating the reporter’s choice of words when it’s the truth. Priam is under no illusions –– while the interview might have been disguised as a spread on one of Verona’s most successful young entrepreneurs, this one question is the true crux of it all. But he wouldn’t be such an invaluable piece on the Capulets’ chessboard if he hadn’t been well-versed in the art of lies and half-truths, and that ability is sure to serve him well now.

“If you think that I have anything profound to say just because I’m engaged to Juliana, then I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” He places his wrench back down, walking away from the open hood of the car to lean against the passenger side door instead, allowing the reporter an unobstructed view of him. His stance is carefully neutral, arms at his side, nothing in his posture to suggest that he has anything to hide. “I’m a businessman, I make and sell cars,” he starts, but knows that there’s no way he can get away with not commenting on the issue at all. “That being said, my family has always been close to the Capulets, so. Whatever Cosimo and Juliana are doing, I trust that they’re doing the right thing.”

“Speaking of my fiancée––” Priam straightens up suddenly, his tone returning to it’s earlier light-heartedness as his lips pull into a grin. “I’m supposed to meet her for lunch today, and I should probably wash off all this grease before I do that. I assume we’re done here?” It’s phrased as a question, but combined with the slight raise of a single eyebrow, it’s clear that it’s a dismissal more than anything else. The reporter’s smart enough to catch on, nodding in agreement as he thanks Priam for his time.

Extras:

Taravella Corporation is an aerospace engineering company, mostly dealing with the manufacturing of commercial planes, but they have the occasional military contract as well as an R&D department that’s looking into space travel

After leaving T-Corp, Priam went and set up Argentum, an automotive engineering company that produces some of the most innovative luxury cars in the world

In his youth, Priam had a brief stint with street racing. It had been an attempt to distract himself from the gnawing emptiness inside of him, and for a while it worked. Now, occasionally he’ll drive over the speed limit, but he’s not nearly as reckless anymore

Really good at poker but we’ll probably never actually get to see this in a thread (besides maybe a passing mention) because I have no idea how to play poker despite having been taught multiple times

Sexy and he knows it !

I wish I could end this app on a more coherent and/or profound note but it’s 4 in the morning and I just want to write a fake ass hoe whose entire existence can be boiled down to: was unloved as a child and now has no idea how basic human emotions work

He tries though, really

#accepted: paris #accepted

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maedarakat · 6 years

Text

Discarded

("A Gruff Separation" AU - Hiccup adopts the Twins after they fail Agnut’s administration of the Induction Trials and get disowned by the Thorston clan.)

----

Green eyes surveyed the scene - which was pitiable by any comparison. Hiccup looked away from the slumped, exhausted forms of his younger friends and to Agnut, scowling.

“Okay that’s it, I’m calling it - the Trials are over for right now.”

“Well, yes, unfortunately,” Agnut nodded. “Because it’s clear they lack the stamina and strength to be Thorstons. With a heavy heart, I must declare -"

“A re-trial!” Hiccup said firmly. “It’s not fair to say they failed when you know their cousin ran them completely ragged with his lies!”

She sighed. “While that may be true, the High Council will only say that cleverness is also an important factor in becoming a Thorston. They were both fooled by their cousin, Gruffnut, and his forged scroll. That certainly does not work in their favor.”

He made a noise of frustration. “I can’t say Chief Stoick is going to agree to your assessment of failure -“

Agnut blinked and reached over to primly seal Hiccup’s lips shut between thumb and forefinger.

“Young man,” she drawled, “Pulling rank on me is not effective, nor appreciated.”

Her eyes softened at the sight of her younger cousins, both groaning and trying to help each other sit up. She pulled Hiccup a bit further away from the group by his arm.

“Especially ineffective,” Agnut whispered, “because it doesn’t matter what I report back to the Elders. The Thorstons have long doubted whether these two are a good fit for the family. It would honestly be far kinder to announce their failure and let them muddle along.”

Incensed, Hiccup folded his arms. “I have to say we’re in agreement on that one particular thing. The Twins certainly do not need a family that holds trials to accept their own flesh and blood!”

“It’s the way it has always been done with our clan, a tradition that has been stubbornly passed down through equally stubborn generations. Not even the Chief can interfere in private clan matters.”

Scowling, Hiccup didn’t answer. His arms were still crossed, signifying his refusal to budge.

His father might not be able to change the Thorstons but that wasn’t going to stop Stoick from raising absolute Niflheim on the Thorston Elders. The man had already done it more than once on the Twins’ behalf.

The most striking in Hiccup’s memory was the time Hardsell had forced Tuff to chop wood in a blizzard, barefoot and wearing only his underthings.

Stoick had come in like a lion the moment he discovered the cruelty - delivering a vicious uppercut to Hardsell’s jaw and laying him out cold. He had then carried Tuff, wrapped in a bear fur cloak, through the knee-high snow to his own warm hut, with Ruffnut in tow.

Just thirteen, Hiccup well remembered his father’s angry ranting to Gobber about the draconian punishment, while he sat next to the blond twin - pale and blue-lipped on a pallet by the Haddock’s hearth. In comparison to his father, Hiccup hadn’t known what to do then, other than help Ruff rub warmth back into her brother’s thin, shivering body.

As Hiccup watched Agnut make ready to leave, he was disheartened to think there wasn’t much he could do this time either.

He walked back to the Twins, swallowing past a lump in his throat at their pained, tired expressions.

“So, I guess we failed after all,” Tuff muttered, leaning against the wall of the Clubhouse. His face was smeared with soot and covered in scratches, and he was holding what looked like a broken wrist close to his chest.

Ruffnut was now laying with her head in her brother’s lap, arms wrapped around her stomach. A surprise blow with the wild Nadder’s tail had sent her somersaulting backwards into a tree, with a force that had made Hiccup worry for her ribs.

He knelt next to them, gently running his fingers over Ruff’s side. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to just stand aside and let your own family kick you guys out.” His gentle ministrations brought an uneven giggle from Ruffnut.

“You tryin’ to tickle me happy, Hiccup? Not that I mind at all, please do go on.” She cheekily lifted her tunic a bit higher. Hiccup sighed but continued to examine her ribs.

“I’m just checking for broken bones, Ruff. That dragon really got you.” There was bruising, but nothing felt out of place and she didn’t cry out when Hiccup added a bit of pressure. That was good at least.

Tuff wasn’t so lucky, he hissed in pain as Hiccup felt along his forearm. Something gave slightly, making him tense and yelp, snatching back his arm.

Toothless burbled his concern and loped over to the Twins, nuzzling Tuff’s cheek. The dragon sat closer, curling his tail and a wing around both of them.

“Thanks T, I’m good. Just a little fracture from that fall,” Tuff shrugged.

And burns from the brush fire they had to rescue an infuriated boar from, and cuts from the Nadder spines - all without mentioning Tuff’s heart-stopping fall down the cliffside as he ran along the edge, dodging flaming ballista spears. Thank the Gods their Zippleback had flown swiftly to save him, even if the interference had disqualified him from winning.

Hiccup now understood why early grays had crept into his father’s hair and beard, and he’d be surprised if they weren’t in his own hair by this time tomorrow. “You guys need some rest and recovery. I’ve half a mind to take you to see Mala’s healers tomorrow.”

“No offense, H, but we kind of just want to go to our huts, close all the windows and pretend we aren’t alive for a few days,” Tuff sighed. “Possibly even weeks.”

“That sounds like a terrible plan,” Hiccup said, unable to keep the worry from shaking his voice.

“Hiccup, I know you care. It’s sweet and it honestly makes me want to cry,” Ruffnut said, and her voice was warbling just a bit on that note. “But this has been the worst birthday we’ve ever had, and - and I - “

She hitched and buried her face against Tuff’s thigh. He leaned over her protectively, looking both ill and defiantly brave as he sheltered her from sight. “Could you help me carry her?” Tuff asked, sounding frail. “We need - we need to just be somewhere dark.”

“You guys want to sleep in my hut?” Hiccup offered, without hesitation. He paused, uncertain if that was too awkward. He needn’t have worried, Tuff actually brightened at that.

“We can sleep with you and Toothless? Word on the street is that he purrs.”

Toothless certainly didn’t seem bothered by the idea, trilling softly in response. He gently nosed Ruff and got his head beneath her arm, encouraging her to stand up. Between Tuff and Hiccup, they got her into the Night Fury’s saddle and walked together toward the hut.

Hiccup was additionally distressed to see Tuffnut moving with a limp, and a long gleaming gash showed through his ripped leggings. Wordlessly, Hiccup put Tuff’s good arm over his shoulders and steadied him with an arm around his waist.

The Twins had already been injured and exhausted after Gruff’s fake trials, which had led to their many missteps and injuries during Agnut’s trials. Had the twins not been in such bad shape, Hiccup had no doubt they could have passed with flying colors.

Tuff had dodged all the spears but he’d twisted his ankle in the Titan Zippleback cave which caused him to fall off the cliff before reaching the finish point. Both he and Ruff had already gotten burns from the explosion that rocked the cave earlier (the same one that had made Hiccup’s heart nearly stop with terror because he had no idea if they’d been killed by the blast.)

It had made trying to save the boar particularly hellish for them, and the boar had escaped their hold, rendering the second leg of the Trial a failure.

The last task - getting a spine from a sleeping Nadder - had also gone horribly wrong, all because they were too exhausted to sneak up as silently as they usually could have.

This was all Gruffnut’s fault. Hiccup swore if he ever saw that jerk again, he was going to punch the guy straight in his lying mouth. Part of him even considered writing to Dagur and Heather in the interest of tracking Gruff down for a friendly little ‘chat’. Dagur had a deep dislike for traitors, after all.

Hiccup’s thoughts were darkly protective as he helped Tuff up the stairs. Toothless had gone ahead of them with Ruff and waited patiently as she got out of the saddle, wiping her eyes. She stumbled towards Hiccup’s bed and fell down across it, burying her face in a pillow to muffle her crying.

“Sis,” Tuff croaked, and Hiccup noted with guilty surprise that there were tears streaking his friend’s face. He’d been so concerned about their physical injuries, he hadn’t even begun to worry for the emotional impact of this awful day. Hiccup helped Tuff lay down next to his sobbing twin, watching as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a close hug.

Toothless warbled sadly, looking every bit as helpless as Hiccup felt. He scratched his dragon’s head and walked over to sit beside them, pulling a warm fur up to their shoulders. “Can I get you guys anything to eat or drink?” Hiccup asked. Usually the Twins were delighted by free food.

“We’re not hungry,” came the unified answer. Ruff reached up to pull the hide further over both their heads.

Okay, well that was definitely worrying. Hiccup bit his lip. “I’m going to go talk to Gobber before Agnut leaves. I-I’ll give you some time to be alone.”

And maybe he’d bring some food anyway. Yak chops and figs, if he remembered their favorites correctly.

“You’ll come back soon, right?” Tuff’s voice asked plaintively.

“I won’t be long at all. Just a few minutes and I’ll be right back,” he assured them, getting up. “Until then, Toothless will stay with you.”

They didn’t answer, but Ruff sighed shakily and reached a hand from under the fur to pat Toothless’ head. The Night Fury nuzzled her palm then laid his top half over them, beginning to purr as loudly as he could manage.

Hiccup took that as his cue to sneak out. He had to ask Gobber some questions, and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like any of the answers.

----

“Of course I’ll be letting the Chief know everything,” Gobber had assured him, his tone somber. The blacksmith’s eyes had tracked the Twins’ departure to Hiccup’s hut with concern. He had seen all of them grow up, and Hiccup knew he cared for Berk’s own pair of rascals just as much as Stoick did.

It was just as Hiccup feared; having failed the Trials, the Twins were truly alone. They would have to give back everything the family had ever given them, possibly even their clothing, and they could no longer visit their own home. It was coldly and brutally unfair.

“Aside from that, should the Thorston family Elders should happen to need anything from my forge, I’ll be sure to inform them the waiting list is at least a few months out.”

Hiccup smiled faintly. Of course Gobber would.

He could also have said he’d do their jobs and repairwork shoddily, but both of them knew Gobber would never lessen the quality of his work for any reason. No, he would just make them wait an absurdly long time for it - which was just as disruptive a punishment.

“In the meantime, you take care of those two. Let your father hammer some sense into those stubborn Elders, and I’ll keep you updated.” He climbed onto Grump, and gave Agnut a hand up. She nodded to Hiccup as she seated herself behind Gobber.

“Haddock,” she said, before they took off. “I want you to tell them that I’m sorry. Please let them know I still consider myself their cousin.”

“Really? So if they need anything, you can lend them food or money or a place to stay?” Hiccup asked flatly.

“Heavens no! The family strictly punishes anyone who takes in a disowned ex-Thorston. I’d be disowned myself, along with my little ones. I don’t like it either, but that’s the way it is. I truly wish they had passed the Trials.”

“I’m sure you do,” Hiccup sighed, knowing it was pointless to lash out at Agnut. She was part of the problem, but not the root of it.

He waited for her and Gobber tp leave before walking to the Clubhouse kitchen to round up some food. Fishlegs had beaten him to the task, unsurprisingly.

“Here,” he said, holding up a big basket. “Heather told me her yak chop recipe a while ago and Snotlout still had some extra figs from the last time he went to the Northern Markets. I wrote to Heather and Dagur already and told them everything.”

He looked worried, but Hiccup smiled and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Hey, well that’s good. It saves me from writing a very incoherently angry letter.”

Fishlegs huffed. “Oh, trust me, my letter was pretty blistering. I can’t believe that Gruffnut! And seriously - the Thorstons are really disowning their kids just because of some stupid Trials?! If you have a baby, then that baby is yours no matter what! My mom would never make me prove I was an Ingerman.”

Hiccup sighed. “I know, Fishlegs. Hopefully my Dad can make them see that. But like Agnut said, he can’t force them to change their traditions. We all just have to be there for the Twins right now. Make sure they eat, heal, and rest. Maybe even distract them a bit.”

The larger boy nodded, looking thoughtful. “You’re right, Hiccup. I’ll go see if I can work on some salves for their bruises and cuts.” He hurried off and Hiccup watched him, turning to go back to his hut.

He drew water from the well, determined to make them at least drink before going to sleep, and carried both bucket and basket through the door. Abruptly he stopped in his tracks when he saw the gold hair laying in a pile on his main floor. What on earth? Hiccup went up the stairs, setting his burdens down as he saw the Twins sitting upright.

Ruff had unbraided her hair, and it was still long, though not as long as it had been. She’d cut it to the middle of her back, and its natural curl was starting to return prettily. She was sitting behind Tuff now removing the beads and unbraiding what she could.

“Guys?” Hiccup asked, moving toward them.

“Hey,” Tuff responded morosely. “She’s helping me because . . .” He held up his injured wrist, grinning lamely.

“Why are you - you know you can wear your hair however you want to, right?”

“We actually can’t wear anything that ties us to the family - hairstyles included. Tomorrow we have to go to the Northern Markets and do a complete wardrobe change. Trade in our old stuff, you know. It won’t be so bad, there’s some new things I’ve had my eye on. I always wanted to try out that black leather vest with suede fringes.”

“You’d look awful in suede,” Ruff sighed. “You just like saying that word.”

“True. It is one of my favorites,” Tuff agreed. “Right up there with ‘fringes’.”

Hiccup shrugged, not quite sure how to take their change in mood. He picked up the basket. “I know you guys said you weren’t hungry, but -”

Tuff’s grey eyes widened and he lifted his head, sniffing. “Do I smell . . .?”

“Figs?!” Ruff dove over his shoulder for the basket, snatching it and nearly toppling her brother onto the floor. Tuff recovered and whirled around, and both of them descended upon the food.

“Ahh, not in the bed, come on - use the table,” Hiccup scolded. He sighed as they completely ignored him, but relented with a shrug. It didn’t look like there’d be any crumbs, and he was right; soon enough the basket had been emptied and Ruff was rapturously licking sticky fig seeds off her fingers while Tuff gnawed ferociously on a yak bone, stripping off the cartilage with his teeth.

Hiccup sat down next to them, and was surprised when they cleared the bed without needing asked - putting down the basket and flicking off stray blond hairs from Ruff’s impromptu haircut.

He was quite suddenly made part of a sandwich, Ruff on his left and Tuff nestled on his right, resting his swollen forearm over Hiccup’s stomach.

“Ahh,” Hiccup murmured in sympathy, reaching down to gently examine his younger friend’s wrist. “Definitely broken.”

His fingers lingered uncertainly, unsure if he should warn him first or just do it. Tuff sighed, and hid his face in Hiccup’s shoulder. “Go ahead,” he muttered. “Just be quick please.”

Hiccup did his best and with a sharp crack, set Tuff’s wrist. A pained yelp was quickly followed by a low sob. Tuff slid down to hide his face against Hiccup’s ribs, clinging tightly to him like some lanky frightened octopus. He remained so for a few moments, even as Hiccup rubbed his back and murmured reassurances. Tuff relented finally and let Hiccup get up to retrieve some pieces of kindling and linen to make him a splint

Toothless crooned a soft good night, hopping up on his own bed to make his usual circle of fire. After he finished wrapping Tuff’s wrist, Hiccup laid back down between them to make himself comfortable, oddly well used to sleeping with people in his bed. This was hardly the first time the Twins had crashed with him, but it was the first time they’d been invited to.

He watched Ruff fall asleep first, then Tuff, before finally succumbing to his own exhaustion.

It had been a long, hard day and they all needed some sleep.

-----

Unsurprisingly, Hiccup woke just before dawn to sobbing.

He’d blinked awake muzzily to realize his arms were empty and that it somehow wasn’t correct for them to be. Sitting up, he saw that it was Tuff’s turn to break down. Ruff was leaning against him with an arm around his shoulders and murmuring as soothingly as she could. Hiccup was at their side before he was fully articulate.

“Tuff? What - what’s up?”

“I thought he’d changed, I really thought this time he’d - I thought he cared for us! But he just -” the boy managed in between hitching breaths.

Oh. Okay, well, there was reason number four-hundred and eighty-three to punch Gruff in the face the next time Hiccup saw him.

“Don’t worry about Gruffnut. He’s a scam-artist and a jerk. Didn’t he also fail the Trials?”

Wait, that didn’t come out right.

Tuff started wailing even harder and Hiccup groaned an apology, sitting up to rub his back.

“No, no, it’s not what you said - I just never realized how alone he must have felt all those years. I mean, no wonder he was a drifter . He - He didn’t even have a home to come back to -”

Ruff groaned and slapped her forehead. “Tuff, for crying out loud! The guy completely screwed us over, you can stop worrying about him. He’s fine! And we will be too. If he can do it, so can we, right? Remember saying all that, about the hut with a divider?”

“Yeah, I was just saying all that because I didn’t want Gruffnut to see us freak out! N-Not that I don’t have a few ideas for what we can do - I mean, I’m good at reading runes, finding clams and diving for abalone and oysters. And you can weave baskets out of anything and read palms and tell fortunes! W-We can make a living off that at the Northern Markets, right? Selling our wares and various talents?”

Hiccup wrapped his arms around the Twins. “Don’t worry about that, guys. Absolutely no-one is going to make you leave Berk.”

“But we can’t live in our house,” Ruff said. “And since our parents were only staying together for us, I bet they’ll finally going to -“

Tuff gave a questioning whimper, looking at her in horrified suspense.

“. . . Buy that new baby yak calf they were talking about last winter,” she covered, grinning weakly. “Can’t have too many yaks, right?”

Tuffnut sighed, sounding relieved, and missed Ruff shaking her head at Hiccup over his shoulder as she gave a thumbs down on the chances of their parents marriage lasting out the month.

“Oh Thor,” Hiccup muttered, rubbing his temples. “What I’m trying to say is you guys won’t be alone through this.”

“We know Hiccup, and thank you,” Tuff said. “It’s nice to know we’ll always have friends in these trying times. Whether it’s a couch to crash on, a basement to hang in, even a designated window to peer in sadly while you enjoy Snoggletog dinner with your family.”

“What . . . of all the ridiculous - you are my family!” Hiccup nearly shouted, with a ferocity that startled even himself.

The Twins stared at him, too stunned to make any sort of comment, and Toothless raised his head to chirp in surprise.

Hiccup stammered, face reddening. “I - I mean, you’re all more than just my friends - and that includes both of you. You guys are like the annoying little brother and sister I never had, and I’m not letting you go cold or hungry, or homeless. We’ll figure this whole thing out in the morning, but until we do, you will always have a home with me and Toothless.”

Neither Twin spoke a word, but they did tackle him into a warm hug, nearly sending all three sprawling off the bed.

———

“You can’t be serious,” Astrid said, eyes wide.

“Oh, I am.” Hiccup barely looked up from the grinding wheel, honing the edge of his sword. Astrid avoided the sparks but came around to stand in front of him.

“I know you want to help, but this is a huge decision. You’re likely going to be Chief someday!”

“That’s not decided yet,” Hiccup shrugged. “What’s decided is that the Twins are not going to be living on the street.”

“Of course not, but it doesn’t have to be you! I’m sure plenty of other Berkians will agree to house them until they find their own way,” she argued.

“Really? Name a couple.”

Astrid crossed her arms, fuming for a moment, then sighed. “Okay, you’re right. No-one else is coming to mind. Mostly because the Twins only seem to listen to you, even if barely.”

“They listen to you too,” Hiccup said, though he was smirking faintly. “When you aren’t being a - how did Ruff put it? A major buzzkill.”

She huffed, but couldn’t keep back a smile. “A buzzkill, huh? And what does Tuffnut say about me?”

“That you need to take a very long nap. Possibly smoke some dragon nip.”

Astrid huffed. “Fine. Just so you know, if either of them ever call me ‘Momstrid’, I’m going to punch them in the ear.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised by that in the least. Feel free to practice on Gruffnut or any other member of the Thorston family.”

She paused, folding her arms. “You’re really upset by this. I mean, it is upsetting, and I’m worried for them too, but . . . . this feels personal.”

Hiccup stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. “Astrid, I love my dad, okay? And everything that happened between us is in the past and we have a good relationship now. But I will never - ever - forget what it felt like when he said I was no longer his son.”

Wincing, Astrid moved toward him, gently touching his arm. She said nothing, letting him continue.

“The Twins just lost their entire family. They may joke and act like it doesn’t bother them, but I know better. It’ll be hard and insane and I’ll probably tear all my hair out by the end of the week, and yes, I’m aware I probably should have talked this through with you first, but -”

A kiss to his cheek quieted him. “Hiccup, you’re always going to do what’s right before you consider whether other people will be happy with it. That’s one of the things I like about you. What can I do to help you guys?”

Hiccup smiled gratefully, relieved she understood now.

***

The Twins’ family was like a pack of vultures. There was no kinder word for it.

Hiccup should have known something was up when Tuff and Ruff started taking things from their hut and hiding it in various corners of his room.

That morning he’d come upstairs to find Tuff nailing a floorboard back down. He’d grinned sheepishly, but finally confessed what was going on.

“Upon disownment, the entire family gets to go through the belongings of the failures,” he explained. “So in a few days, this island is going to be swarming with Thorstons fighting over all our stuff. We’re just hiding things that you guys gifted us with, and also stuff we can’t bear to part with, like Fluffers and my new favorite axe. Also, would you please claim Chicken and her little babies are yours? So nobody tries to eat them?” He clasped his hands together pleadingly, though he hardly needed to.

“Tuff, none of that’s going to happen. They are not coming to this island. I’ll write to the Chief and-”

“Way too late for that, H. Look out the window.”

Hiccup did and scowled as he saw a flock of dragons heading for the Edge, with all sorts of riders - most of them tall with similar hairstyles to the Twins.

“Okay, scratch that. They’re not landing on this island.” Hiccup walked out of the hut and whistled sharply. A few moments later Tuffnut curiously followed him outside.

A white shape flew over to Hiccup, who gave Smidvarg non verbal instructions with his hand, pointing at the approaching Thorstons.

Smidvarg gave a screech and flew off to gather his flock.

“What did you tell him to do?” Tuff asked, having missed most of the signals Hiccup relayed.

He had his answer as mere minutes later, a flock of Night Terrors began to relentlessly divebomb the approaching dragons and their riders.

There was a great deal of shouting and Ruff ran up to them, also watching wide-eyed as the beleaguered Thorstons tried to bat away their attackers and keep a hold on their dragons. Their progress on the island was halted; none of the Night Terrors would let them get a single wingbeat closer.

Finally, the flock turned back, heading South to Berk. The Night Terrors followed for a bit and then returned. Smidvarg landed on Hiccup’s arm, crowing proudly. He churred contentedly as he received a fond scratch on the crown of his head.

“Wow. You really mean business. Nobody’s ever done that before.” Ruff asked Hiccup, quietly.

“Yeah. I mean, I thought the offer was a nice, well-meaning but empty gesture we were supposed to politely turn down,” Tuff chimed in, “But now . . . you really want us to live with you?”

Hiccup gave them both a smile. “I want you to join my family. It’s not quite adopting you - I mean, that would be awkward.”

“Indeed it would. What would we call you then? Dadcup? Daddock?”

“Ha, ha, please never call me that. I wouldn’t hear the end of it from Snotlout. But from now on, you guys can both call me brother.”

The Twins exchanged glances, and looked back at him, both looking nearly overwhelmed.

“Your Dad won’t - “

“He will let you move in. Just let me handle it. All you two need to worry about now is taking care of yourselves and your dragon. You still need to heal and rest. If you’re up for it, we’ll head for Mala’s island tomorrow morning.”

Again, Ruff and Tuff exchanged glances. “Well, I don’t see the harm in it. I’m simply dying for another coconut.”

“And we can see if Mala’s killed Dagur for real yet,” Ruff grinned. Tuff elbowed her, scowling. It resulted in the usual scuffle, which Hiccup knew better than to intervene in.

-----

Mala and her healers did what they could, applying a pain-relieving salve from dandelion heads and arnica flowers for both Twins, making sure fractures were properly set and gashes stitched. They’d had to give Tuff a few bites of sage fruit so he could remain calm, as he absolutely hated needles.

He wound up needing to eat the whole thing just to remain still, and as a result was more than a bit dazed when he and Ruff got let out.

Ruff smirked at her grinning brother, smoothing her tunic over bandaged ribs. “How you feeling there, bro?”

“This planet is so beautiful. I’m so glad we’re on it.”

“Ooookay, Boynut, yeah. We’re on a pretty great planet.” Dagur commented, largely amused. He whispered behind his hand to Hiccup. “What’s a planet, little brother?”

“Hey, wait a second! If Hiccup’s our brother and your his big brother, does that make you our big brother too?” Ruff interjected.

“Uh . . .” The Berserker suddenly looked hunted. Heather put a hand over her mouth to hide her grin.

“We’ve never had a big brother! Just a few older cousins.” Tuff walked toward him with open arms. Dagur stopped him with a hand on his face.

“Nope, no - you’re Hiccup’s little brother, but I’m not your big brother. And if you ever prank me - ever - I’ll hang you from a coconut tree by your ankles.”

“Just what a big brother would say!” Tuff cried rapturously. He ducked under Dagur’s hand and hugged him tightly around the waist. The look on Dagur’s face made Hiccup, Heather, and Mala burst out laughing.

“What’s wrong, Dagur? Don’t like being called brother incessantly?” Hiccup teased, failing to keep a smirk off his face.

Dagur snorted, shook his head and relented. “Fine. Come here, Girlnut.” Ruff gleefully ran over and he picked both of them up, hugging them until their joints cracked.

“Berserker Spine-crusher Hug! I love it!” Tuff gritted out.

The others were still laughing as Dagur set the Twins down. The Berserker gave Heather a crafty look. “And you know this also means Heather’s your big sister.”

Heather stopped laughing and yelped as she was suddenly tackled in a hug between both twins, lifting her off her feet. It was Dagur’s turn to burst out laughing as she glared at him flatly, but she couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from turning up. Heather wrestled her pinned arms free and hugged the twins around the shoulders as they set her down.

Mala beckoned to Hiccup, wishing to talk to him aside.

“Am I to understand the family of Tuffnut and Ruffnut no longer want to claim them?” she asked, looking puzzled. “How is this allowed on your island?”

“Well, it’s not normal. But from what I’ve seen, the Twins are better off without them. Doesn’t really stop the sting on their end, but . . . I think they’ll be okay. We have our own family, all of us riders.”

“I understand. Even here, not every family is happily in tune with each other. The families you find can often be formed with stronger ties than bonds of blood. I believe the Twins will be happy to live with you, though it may take some adjusting.”

Hiccup watched as the Twins ran past, Ruff triumphantly holding up Heather’s axe as she shouted indignantly and chased after them. Dagur was laughing too hard to help her much.

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be plenty of adjusting. But we’re all going to be there for the Twins, and I know they’ll always be there for us. They’re the heart of the group. At the end of the day, no matter how rough it’s been, they’re always there to cheer us up. And they’re often brilliant - some people can’t see it. I can’t imagine what our group would be without them.”

“You care for them, but not just as a leader,” Mala smiled. “And what do you think your father, Chief Stoick, will think about these ravens of mischief moving into your home when you return to Berk?”

Hiccup laughed wryly. “Ohh, there’s going to have to be a few arguments here and there, I’m sure. But Dad would never turn them away either . . . especially not now, when they need us the most.”

He watched them fondly, glad the Twins were smiling again, despite everything. Hiccup couldn’t think of a single thing worth more than that.

End.

#rtte #tuffnut #ruffnut #hiccup #family of friends #httyd

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ariannnawinchester · 7 years

Text

Viswaas.

Series Masterpost

Characters: Dean, Reader, Sam, Jo and Garth (For now.)

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence and harassment.

Summary: The Reader is an Omega, working for her Aunt Ellen. She’s no stranger to things that go bump in the night, maybe because she is a something too. Suddenly, a group of very strange and rough around the edges people make their way to the town and she finds herself drawn to one in particular. She has reservations so can he tear her walls down??

A/N: I'm back at it. However, this is my first a/b/o fic so be kind. Constructive criticism and feedback will be highly appreciated.

You let out a huge sigh, swiping the back of your hand across your clammy forehead. Beads of perspiration sprouting up onto your skin like you were sitting on your ass in a sauna.

“We got to get some damn fans in here.” you mumble underneath your breath. Fans, of course, won’t make much of a difference. Not with the air being that densely hot and the crowds of people packed into the roadhouse. Tonight was supposed to be your night off, and you planned to spend it barely clothed in your room, lazily eating pizza. But, Aunt Ellen needed you and you just couldn’t say no, not with Jo giving you shit for having her work all by herself.

It felt like you were covered in some nasty sticky glue, the way your tank top and shorts were clinging to your flesh. Almost like a second goddamn skin. To say the least, you were miserable. Pouty and irritable, like a brat but you didn’t care. It was only nine p.m and you were done. But, that could also be because of the fact that the moon looked like a big, fat piece of round dough in the sky. Almost like it was begging you to let yourself run free. You could feel it rippling beneath your skin, like an itch that needed to be scratched or you’d go insane. But, you aren’t stupid. On night’s with full moons that’s when the crazies come out to play and you promised Aunt Ellen you won’t get caught in the crossfire. Not like your Mom.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” you answer Jo’s call, twisting through the maze of tables towards the back of the bar.

Ellen’s roadhouse on any given Saturday night was never dull, it actually started early. A few of the locals stopping by to grab a few beers to catch up with some friends or to even watch the game. The atmosphere inside was some what hypnotizing, the low rock tunes spilling through the air accompanied by years of familiarity and booze was a heady mix. It brought people from everywhere.

It’s only by eleven that you have a chance to actually standing still, your feet are aching and your stomach is growling but it’s somewhat of a bitter sweet relief. Teddy, the darling local, who keeps asking you out has passed out on the counter besides you and you can’t help but smile. You grab another wet glass, wiping the droplets of water as your eyes scan the floor.

The chime of the bell on the door attracts your attention, that’s when the first few of them arrive. Unconsciously, your body tenses up and your breath gets stuck in your lungs. You’re waiting, just waiting to see how things unfold.

“Hey Garth.” you call out towards the tall reedy looking dude that walked through the door first. Garth was one of the nicer ones, with a gentle smile and good tips. Your greeting only earns you a quick nod. That’s when it begins to settle that tonight is different.

You swallow, a shiver going down your spin. With a smile, you open some beers before he makes his way towards the bar. If you play your part, maybe you can keep the peace. You have to.

Shortly after Garth, the rest make their way inside. Your gaze follows them, there’s more tonight, a larger group than their usual five. The four men and the gorgeous blonde woman. They had been coming to the roadhouse for a while now, roughly six or so months. But that didn’t mean you knew anything about them. Hell, you didn’t even know their names apart from Garth’s. Sure, they looked a little rough around the edges, but that’s usually how gangs were. At least that’s what you thought initially.

But no, Aunt Ellen cleared that right up. She said they were bitten. Not like you, not like her. They were a different breed, vicious and ferocious, always hungry for blood. Human blood.

Just thinking of Aunt Ellen’s words made you shudder, goosebumps erupting all over your flesh. You didn’t even realize that Jo was standing right besides you until she spoke.

“God, he’s gorgeous.” a dreamy look in her eyes, her gaze focuses on ‘him’

You clear you throat, pretending that your heart didn’t skip two beats when his green eyes settled on you. Almost like he heard Jo speak. You nudge her in the ribs with your elbow, “Him? Please.” You roll your eyes to disguise the heat flooding your body when you notice him walking towards the bar.

“He’s coming to you. He’s coming to you!” Jo whispers too excitedly

You shoot her a glare and then turn to face him with a wide smile, “Another beer or are you ready for the hard stuff?”

Gorgeous green eyes almost smiles, “Y/N.”

He says your name and you feel it. You feel it everywhere. Particularly, at your center accompanied by the sudden dull twisting ache in your lower stomach. A tiny silent whimper escapes your parted lips, your mind void of all thoughts whilst you just stare at his handsome face.

“I’m at a disadvantage,” you say when your brain finally reboots, “you know my name but I don’t know yours.”

His pouty lips curl into a mischievous smirk, a predatory look crawling into his eyes as he watched you. You were slightly afraid now, you knew that he could smell you, you knew that by now he could tell what you are. At that moment, you could only smell him, the alpha radiating off his broad body. The scent assaulted you, making your mouth dry.

“Dean.” He says it with such finality that you feel light headed.

You can tell just from looking at him that he’s a brawler, the scar across his forehead was further proof. But, what distracts you is his how green his eyes are. Sure, they are gorgeous like precious fucking gems but it’ s what’s behind them that makes you back track a little. Secrets, that’s what their filled with along with memories of a troubled past. Yes, you’ve had rough tumbles with so called bad boys but he was different. He gave the term a whole other meaning and whether that excited you or frightened you, you are still trying to figure out.

“Well, then Dean. What’s it gonna be? Whiskey or Tequila?”

“Your pick.” he says, his face unreadable.

A smile crawls onto your face, “sure thing!” you busy yourself with the drinks as he watches you. His eyes burning into the back of your head. It’s slightly unsettling. The silence and his staring. “You want something sweet? you say over your shoulder, trying to fill the quiet, “I could send Jo to bring out some pie Ellen made earlier.”

“I’m sure you’re sweeter than pie.” you can hear the teasing in his gruff voice, the smirk dancing on his lips.

His words take you by surprise, unable to respond you hand him the tray with the glasses of whiskey. He’s still watching you, staring at you. Not at your tits or trying to get a view of your ass. As a person, who usually can read people you can’t understand him and it’s driving you up the wall to say the least. However, it feels like he’s assessing you, getting to know what you’re like. Almost like stalking his prey. You didn’t want to be prey because they usually end up dead. You didn’t want to get tangled up with them, your whole body was screaming at you to run, from them and especially him.

He was dangerous. And you had come to the conclusion that this was the first and the last time you will ever speak to him.

“Come on Buddy.” you call out to the burly man seated at the corner of the bar, “Last call was about 15 minutes ago. You gotta get going.”

You insisted on closing up, swatting Jo’s ass out of the roadhouse and towards the house before she collapsed in exhaustion. It was just you and ‘scary looking’ guy. You could barely see his face in the dim light but you heard him.

“Sugar.” he drawls, getting up from his chair and stumbling towards you, “I can smell you. Your tasty omega bitch scent.”

The meer sound of his voice makes your skin crawl, the contents of your stomach threatening to decorate the wooden floors. You gulp, trying to gather your wits, “Get out now! Before I call the cops. Or before I chop of your balls myself.” you spit.

He sneers, his face contorted with malice, “Feisty Omega!” he cackles, “I love the ones that put up fights. You’re begging for it. And, I’ll give it to you. Nice and good.”

He traps you between the counter and his body, the wood digging into your back. He’s too close, his yellowing teeth threateningly close to your neck whist he snifs you. You gulp, cursing at yourself for not being quick enough to get to the door. He had you right where he wanted you, unable to bite, scratch or get away.

“I’ll show you what it feels to be with an alpha, pretty bitch.”

so you do what you can, you yell.

“Help! Someone help me please.”

Your screams startle him, his beefy hand curls around your throat, cutting the air from your lungs. You squirm and claw at his fingers trying to get free. He fists a hand into your hair, dragging you onto the gravel outside before his knee connects with your chin.

It’s blurry, your ears ringing as you hit the ground. The pain too much too bear, it’s too much for you to scream.

“Maybe I’ll just kill you? Dig your heart out and take it with me.” he snarls, “Bitch.” spitting as he predatory eyes burn into yours.

You try to scramble away but he drags you towards him by your ankles. The dust from the ground filling your lungs. His flat palm connects with your cheek, it stings, bringing tears to your eyes. He pins you down, one of his hands holding your fists above your head whilst his body holds your thrashing legs still.

“Please.” you whimper, “Let me go, please.” Your tears rolling down your dusty face.

You feel his claws extend against your flesh, your thudding heart not that far away. Your suppressants won’t even allow you to turn. This is how you were going to die. At the hands of a disgusting perverted alpha outside the roadhouse. Just like your Momma.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your chin tightly to your shoulder, you think maybe that will soften the blow. You can feel his breath, hot and stinky against your exposed flesh of your neck. The snarls and low growls rumbling in his chest makes you want death more than anything.

“Just kill me.” The words barely leave your bruised lips. The exhaustion creeping over your body like dark, thick mist.

“I plan to.” He cackles.

Just before your heavy lids close shut, you hear it. A howl, so ferocious that it shakes you to your senses. Like a call, pulling you from deep within. Before, you can even blink your hazy eyes into focus, the alpha is sent hurtling into the air. A towering burly body standing in front of you, with his teeth bared at the alpha that hurt you.

“You want her? You will have to go through me. Alpha to alpha.” he growls, squaring his shoulders to make himself appear larger. “You fight me for her or you die.”

It takes you some time to scramble up to your feet. Every omega cell in your body wants to bath in the comfort and the safety that this Alpha was offering. You reach out for him, your fingers curling around his arm. You want to know who he is.

When he turns, it startles you. His glowing gold eyes immediately return to the green, softening when he focuses on your swollen, bloodied lip.

You swallow, just blinking at him, “Dean.” his name leaves your mouth like an unsaid prayer.

“You’re mine.” he states, simple as that, “Mine.”

And you feel it, the curl in your belly when he lays claim. You knew it, from the moment he walked into your life.

So wrapped up in each other, you don’t even realize that the other alpha has gathered his bloody body and raced off into the night, with his tail between his legs.

Dean places a heated hand, against your dusty cheek. His calloused thumb smudging away your trail of tears.

“I could smell you. Your fear. Your pain.” He shakes his head, almost like he is trying to shake away bad images, “I felt it. I promise you no one will hurt you again ‘mega.”

On your tippy toes, you reach for him. Your hand settling on the back of his neck before you pull him close to press his lips to yours. There’s no words to describe how it felt but a feeling. It was like finally coming home.

“I trust you Alpha.”

To be continued…

Tags: @thedevilinthedetails @my-supernatural-dreams @damn-sassalecki @akshi8278 @tia58 @laurwinchester @the-amaranthine @merci-is-screaming @pizzarollpatrol @torn-and-frayed @tom-is-in-my-tardis @anokhi07 @nightmaredean @captainemwinchester @sleep-silent-angel @kittenofdoomage @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid

#dean x reader #reader x dean #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean #dean winchester x reader #reader x dean winchester #dean fanfic #dean fan fic #dean fanfiction #dean fan fiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fan fiction

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thechocobros · 7 years

Text

“SEE LUNA SAFE TO ALTISSIA” - part 16

Pair: Nyx Ulric / Lunafreya Nox Fleuret

Words: 6722

Plot: Luna and Nyx didn’t fell in the Empire’s trap, Nyx didn’t had to use the ring and he survived. What would have happened if Nyx really had the chance to ‘see Luna safe to Altissia’, like he promised to Regis? Here the part 5: The quick showdown in Altissia separated the newly wed Lunafreya Nox Fleuret and Nyx Ulric. She must fullfill her duty as Oracle. He must survive and go back to protect her. New allies and new enemies will come in their way, so in the chaos that follows, what will the future bring to them all?

Personal Comment: This took me long because I’m making so many things for the lunyx week! I also started to write two new lunyx fics etc, so please, please FORGIVE ME! >.< I hope this chapter will make amends. I’m publishing it before the week, so you will have time to read it.

Speaking of the chaper … Action and angst. My jam. I had to rewrite some scenes after seeing Ignis’ episode trailer, where Ravus appears too xD I also wanted to show more Luna and Nyx in their roles (especially Luna. Damn, that last update really ruined her more and I needed to go back to a more KG version of her, where she actually does stuff without whining), so yeah, I hope I did it good? More action!Luna is yet to come anyway. Let me know.

The next chapter should be the final one. OMG.

Luna must have fainted at some point for she woke up on the couch, exhausted and covered in sweat. She had experienced terrible nightmares as always, but this time waking up and realizing that Nyx wasn’t back yet felt even worse.

Out of the window, the sun was setting alread, or maybe it was the dawn of the day after, she couldn’t tell and this made her panic. If she wasn’t able to understand what time was it, how could she know if it was the case to be worried or not?

She asked the soldiers guarding her room but they didn’t see the Glaive return. He was away for more or less 15 hours. Luna thanked them and shut the door behind her. Once she was alone with her fears, she started to cry.

——–

The worst part was not knowing what happened to him.

Luna waited until midnight on a chair on the balcony, biting her nails to the quick. Her fingers bled when she bit too deep, and all she could do was weigh the possibilities of what could’ve happened. Maybe he was caught by the Imperials. Maybe Noctis thought he was a traitor under Kingsglaive fatigues. Maybe he was killed. Her mind screened and examined dozen of awful scenarios, where her husband got trapped, betrayed, tortured and even assassinated, and in each of them she felt like it was her fault.

The torment born by these nihilistic thoughts brought anything but peace and nobody was there to offer her comfort. In fact, after their last discussion, Ravus decided that it was too risky to stay in touch with her sister and was now probably too disposed with the Empire to actually care about his new brother-in-law. Luna wished to ask Aranea, but had no way to contact her.

And so, Luna realized that she was alone.

“You just have to go on with the plan and do what you gotta,” Nyx had whispered in her ear during their last night together after loving her thoroughly and passionately. “You have your duty. Coming back to you is mine.”

Awakening Leviathan. Kill her and also the other Gods. Defeat the Darkness together with Noctis. Nyx strongly believed that she was able to accomplish such an absurd and extremely dangerous mission, even without his help.

The amount of faith he placed in her was unbelievably huge, but he had always been right about her. Even in so little time, he was able to know her better than she ever knew herself. She believed that she had the power in winning this battle because of him, heard it until it resounded throughout her entire being. Luna wouldn’t let him down no matter what came to pass.

—–

When the dawn came, Luna knew her husband was lost, perhaps forever.

Her heart was shattered in thousand pieces, but none of that matter now. She had a duty to see through and couldn’t let her own irremediably compromised feelings tear her down before it. She was the Princess Oracle, no, she was the Queen Oracle like her mother before her and she carried the voice that only the Gods would adhere to.

She had to look at things in the right perspective, focus on her priorities. She tasted a piece of heaven thanks to Nyx, but now he was gone and she had to do what Eos expected her to, Nyx included. Wiping away her tears with closed fists and nerves taunt as tight ropes, Luna would not falter – not now, not ever.

——–

Nyx was engulfed in nothing but pain and darkness.

It was like someone was tearing his skin off, piece after piece slowly, starting with his arm. He wished to have his arm torn off once for all so he wouldn’t have to bear that constant agony, but the relief didn’t come until an immeasurable amount of time later.

Nyx couldn’t understand when or how, but he started to breathe again and was able to open his eyes.

Even before realizing where he was, his first thought went to Lunafreya. Where was she now? What did she thought when she didn’t see him coming back and what did she do afterwards? If he was still alive, he had to go back to her at any cost.

But wherever she was, it had to be better than his situation.

The place he was caged in was nothing but a dark dungeon with cold walls and only a small window on the ceiling. Hewas chained by the wrists behind the back. His shoulder still hurt like hell, but as he tried to stand on his feet from the supine position he was, he noticed that also his entirebody was sore. Nothing alike the miserable condition he was some time ago anyway.

“You shouldn’t exert yourself,” said someone in a matter-of-fact tone. “I so kindly pulled you from death’s cold embrace so you don’t meet such a tragic end. Need time to gather your bearings? By all means, you shall have it.”

Nyx boggled at the sound of that mellifluous and cruel voice, it was like a creepy music which sent shivers upon his spine. Even at cost of terrible pain, the Glaive turned to watch his interlocutor.

“You…!” He said, recognizing Chancellor Ardyn Izunia himself leaning on the wall and waiting for his awakening.

“Me? Judging by your tone, I assume you recognize me.” He whispered melodiously. “Excellent. I dislike frivolous formalities immensely. We can speak simply, you and I.”

Nyx gnashed his teeth, trying to stand up. He just didn’t have the strength to, barely managing to move a few inches that his restraints allowed. “You healed me?”

“You may be surprised of how many people I used to heal back in my time though I might be a tad rusty at it now. Feel the drawbacks, yes?”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t fancy conversing with corpses. To put it plainly, dead men tell no tales.”

Nyx was finally able to sit, his ribs protesting like they were broken in two and a wave of nausea struck him even if there was nothing inside his stomach to dispel the sensation. “I guess this is the Imperial way of getting someone’s attention?” He brought his chained wrists to his sides, gingerly brushing where the bullet went through. “Dunno if I even wanna know what happens when you guys get friendlier than this.”

Ardyn Izunia moved too, his unhurried gait held an air of pompous clairvoyance and the aloofness of a grand chessmaster.

“Magitek troops are neccessary pawns, but simply incompetent. They know no other way to stop a Glaive but to shoot first. They lack the foresight to consider much else.“

"So using Lunafreya’s notebook and pretending to be Prince Noctis to corner her was probably your idea, huh?”

“You recognized my style! I’m glad to hear that and well, you can’t say that wasn’t genius.” When Nyx raised an eyebrow at the word ‘genius’, the Chancellor added quickly, “Lower your suspicions now. I hold nothing but the deepest regard for men like you, Nyx Ulric. Men who are brave enough to stab the Frostbearer in the name of love. You remind me of myself when I was your age and maybe this is the reason why the Gods are not fond of you. But I do. In fact, the last person who dared to challenge the Astrals was myself so impatience drove me to meet you in person. To see that spark in someone’s eyes.”

“What do you really want?” asked Nyx, not liking his insinuations and starting to loose his coolness. The wound on his shoulder was gone, but the pain left him exhausted and wasn’t in the mood for his mind tricks.

“I want to help you.”

Nyx grimanced. “I don’t buy that one bit.”

“But what if I told you that as soon as I heard about the Glacian’s tragic end, I brought the Crystal to Altissia so your lovely princess could awaken the Infernian and the Draconian?”

Nyx narrowed his eyes and held his breath, studying the chanchellor’s expression to determine if anything expressed had a ring of truth to them. There must have been a catch somewhere, he knew it. Ardyn’s eyes were glowing with the cruelest light, it was like a purple and malicious spark, able to creep the hell out of Nyx. He couldn’t trust his words. “Isn’t what you wanted?” The chancellor continued, appealing to Nyx’s true desire, “To kill all the Six and free the innocent princess from their devices?”

“It is. But I also want to save my King and Eos from the grip of Darkness.”

“Ah, and that’s where, hero. However, I’m not apathetic to your distress, I’ll give you an inestimable opportunity. Consider it a sign of gratitude for killing the Glacian once and for all in my place. Without her divine intromission and the other Astrals’ help, the Chosen King will be in the palm of my hand.”

“What… are you talking about?”

“I can protect the Princess Oracle when she wakes the rest of the Six. I can lend her my power so she will quickly end them. Speaking of ‘her’, I mean your 'wife’.” Izunia stopped to admire with a corrupted smile Nyx’s surprised expression. “Yes, I know that too. What an admirable act of courage, to get marry in order to escape from the destiny the Gods chose for her. But now, don’t throw your bliss away. If you allow me to protect her, I can offer you an everlasting future by her side.”

Nyx instinctively shook his head. “What are you asking me in exchange?”

The chancellor gesticulated with his hand, trying to look casual. “Nothing. After your princess kills the Six, you can take her and flee. You can take her wherever you wish, no one shall ever oppose you ever again.”

Nyx smiled, but he was not amused at all. His mind caught the evil beyond the apparent endeavor of looking lenient. “You only want Lunafreya out of the way.”

Ardyn Izunia pretended to look offended, a mock gasp before chuckling, “Oh! You presumemy beautiful gift as something terrible!”

“Afraid of her, too, aren’t you? You’re right to. Just wait to see what she and Prince Noctis are gonna bring to your sorry ass.”

Ardyn Izunia wasn’t one to know Nyx’s insolence and to tolerate those of his ilk. His playful smile turned into the pure personification of evil as his face lit of a mischievous glow Nyx would be better to fear. “You may live to regret your words.”

“The only thing I would regret is to free my princess from the demons of her past only to force her again under a far more heavy remorse. She would never accept your offer and neither will I.”

Speaking such a reckless statement with a defiant grin painted on his lips earned Nyx a backhand slap to the face. The strength beyond it was so supernatural that the Glaive couldn’t help but fell back on the floor, blood spilling from his nose and lip. He didn’t emit a single whine though. He was not so easy to break.

“So be it. You chose to be the one to experiment regret: because of you, I will kill your beloved wife before Gods do.” That was the only sentence which was able to sweep away the smirk from Nyx’s sore face. No physical pain nor personal menace couldn’t be compared with the fear of seeing Luna being hurt because of him.

“You can’t win this battle, Ardyn Izunia. They won’t let you.”

But Ardyn didn’t bother to reply. He just took his hat off and bowed a little, leaving him there, chained and worried. It was his turn to smirk smugly, like he already won it all.

—————

Luna decided to step out from her safe hiding place to perform the rite of awakening the Hydraean. She sent a short message to First Secretary Claustra to inform her of that, and received a visit from her correspondent.

“Your groom?” she asked, taking a sit on the empty chair in the luxurious room of the Princess.

“Not here,” Lunafreya answered, glacial expression and posture elegantly composed. She was dressed in the beautiful white dress Nyx bought her in Lestallum, her make-up was on and her trident was ready to be used. She wear her mask perfectly, exactly like it has been all those years. If she didn’t hold on to such an appearance she wouldn’t be able to hide her heartbreak. Nobody was allowed to see the pain beyond.

“I met with Prince Noctis this morning,” Camelia stated, trying to look professional. Her eyes hid a evil glow though, but Luna knew she wouldn’t be cause of trouble, not until she and Altissian people would have been safe. “He told me he received a message from you and that you would have asked me to perform the ritual to awake the Hydraean.”

Luna boggled, her words slicing through her like a knife. If Noctis received her message, it meant that Nyx succeed in his mission. So whatever happened to him, happened after that. She stood in silence to mask her anxiety from Camelia.

“We’ve sealed a deal. You can have your ritual. But I want my people to be protected.”

Luna was relieved to hear that was her condition.

“It’s reasonable.”

“We decided to evacuate the city but we’re going to need time. Now you will have a speech where you reassure people of having the situation under control. By the voice of the Oracle, Altissia will listen and evacuate promptly. My only plea wouldn’t help.”

“I can do so.”

“And tomorrow you will call for the Goddess of the Sea, not before noon. This time should be enough for a correct evacuation. The Prince’s friends are gonna help.” There was a small pause where Luna took a deep breath and forced herself to keep a straight face up. She had to focus on the real goal.

“What is the Empire going to say about your intromission in this situation?”

“The Empire knows the Accordo government will do anything to protect its people, so if we organize the evacuation they won’t be in the position to say anything. Regarding me protecting you, this is a personal business they will never know of. Furthermore, it was only a temporary solution. In fact, from now on, you will be on your own. Accordo is not going to protect you when the speech will start, nor it will during the ritual on the altar. You, Prince Noctis and the Empire will be allowed to do whatever you want on our territory once people are safe, but we won’t mingle in your affairs.” A neutral position. An hazardous choice for an all-business politician like Camelia Claustra. Luna was sure that if it wasn’t for the old friendship between her and her mother she wouldn’t have gone that far either.

“I see.”

“You know what really allures the Empire. The power of your trident, along with the rest of the Lucian Ancestors Arminger. When they’ll see Prince Noctis wielding them, they will lose their mind and chaos will burst. If worse comes to worst, you can threaten to throw the trident into the sea. Then they’ll listen. In the meantime, it will be well guarded. Better than the Oracle herself.”

“Understood. I shall reclaim it at the altar.”

“Remember, you’ll be under imperial watch.”

“Right.”

“Think of it as a necessary evil in order to forge the covenant.”

Luna felt weird hearing her mention a covenant. Camelia wouldn’t have known that the princess had evoked the rage of the Gods upon herself because she refused to forge any more kind of covenant. The First Secretary couldn’t even imagine what Luna was actually trying to accomplish with Leviathan’s awakening.

“I am in your debt.” Luna said anyway, bowing a little. The more complacement with the situation, the better.

“Once it’s over, you may go as you please. But you do so without our protection.”

“So be it.”

Camelia let a sigh escape from her lips. For the first time since they met, she looked compassionate when she said: “You better get going. Your public is waiting for you.”

Luna shouldn’t have been surprised of the escalating pace of her life, yet as she watched Camelia leaving the room, a squeeze on her heart reminded her she was getting closer and closer to the end.

She wished Nyx was there beside her.

When a dozen of imperial soldiers rushed in the room, almost crushing the door open for the excessive zealousness and pointing with their guns at her like she was a criminal, Luna didn’t stop to stare into the distance. If she was able to bear her husband’s absence, not even an entire army would have hurt her anymore. She took an unnoticed deep breath and stood up proudly, fervor in her eyes. The soldier who tried to put her on the opposite side of the gun was pulled away with one only firm and cold wave of the hand. Too bad Luna couldn’t see the face he made under the helmet.

She walked ahead, having nothing but one goal: destroy the Gods and the Darkness and possibly find a way to get her husband back.

———–

The gunshot was healed, but now Nyx had to deal with the headache caused by Izunia’s punch. He had to turn around a bit, breathing heavily and hoping that the hemorrhage would have ceased. In the meantime, his brain couldn’t stop thinking and thinking. He had to do something but he was chained down and not even his magic would have been useful in that condition.

He cursed under-breath for falling right in the Chancellor’s trap, but then again he knew it wasn’t his fault. He only had to find a way to get out of there. Who knew if the chaos already started somehow up there.

“Hey!” He screamed, headed to nobody in particular. “Is someone there? Heyyy!” The echo of his own voice was the only thing answering back. He let his head falling back on a stack of hay. That dungeon was so dark and silent it was hard to catch the smallest noise. The frustration grew bigger, until his whole body started to scream like a desperate. “Heyyy, someone take me out of here!” he screamed again, angrier. Then he heard something. A delicate swish, nothing more, but it sounded like it responded to the Glaive’s screaming. Nyx lift his head and looked around. “Who’s there?” he asked, this time almost whispering.

A shadow came out from the darkness and he boggled.

“Sir Ulric?” The mysterious figure was hazel at the beginning but as it got closer, Nyx could only sigh in relief and most likely, in disbelief.

“You…? What are you doing here?”

Ignis Scientia, the Prince’s advisor himself, came under the only candle light they had and adjusted his glasses, surprised as much as the Glaive.

“I’m evacuating the area under Secretary Camelia’s orders and it happened I had to check if someone was left behind in this dungeon.”

“Great! Find a way to get me out of here.”

“I’ll reserve the questions about your imprisonment later.”

“Yeah, later is good.” Nyx grinned, licking the blood away from his lip. He tried to stand up because he wanted to be useful for Ignis in case, but the young advisor seemed to have already clear in mind a solution. After less than one minute, he came back with Nyx’s kukris and without saying a word he shoved it in the floor, looking expectedly to the Glaive, which quickly understood his plan. As a matter of fact, Nyx started to feel immediately the magic running through his veins, screaming to him to be used. Smirking with satisfaction, Nyx let it go. He warped out of the cage’s bars, grabbing the hilt of his weapon and holding on to it. He had left the chains back in the prison and now was free to move again.

“If they really wished to cage you, they should have hidden your kukris in a better place, not near the dungeon’s entrance, where i spotted them before.”

“Right. Our weapons are more important than arms to us, our whole magic is connected to them. And to the King, of course.” Nyx confirmed, knowing that a member of the Crownsguard like Ignis knew all this for sure. “Thanks for bringing my kukris back, someone must have taken them away from me when they knocked me out” Nyx said, expertly rotating the knifes and insert them back in his belt.

“What happened?”

“After my talk with the prince, Ardyn Izunia decided to chat and somehow I ended up here. Crazy, ain’t it? Anyway, what’s the situation up there?”

“Lady Lunafreya is about to wake the Hydraean. The rite will start in a matter of minutes.”

Nyx felt his heart ache, knowing that Izunia was headed towards the altar too, with the clear intention to hurt her. Lunafreya needed his guardian, now more than ever, and he was still too far from her. He had to be quicker than a bolt.

“Ignis Scientia, what about Kingsglaive and Crownsguard joining forces? Please, take me to Lunafreya.”

—–

As Luna stepped ahead towards the podium, she heard people’s voices slowly shut up, in great expectations. It surprised her how many people promptly came as soon as they heard she would have had a small speech. Like she needed more evidences, that was one another one showing that she really was an inspiration for all Eos.

As the silence fell, she knew she held them in the palm of her hand. Whatever she would say, they would have listen, so she took a deep breath.

“Dear friends,” Luna started, “I stand before you today with little hope the words I speak shall reach beyond these walls. For slowly but surely, the Light fades from our world. And as it does, the shadows shall loom ever longer until all succumbs to the darkness. Darkness that evokes terror, hatred and sorrow in the heart of men. The ashes of Lucis… A dream of peace, twisted into a nightmare of death and destruction, claiming innumerable lives and leaving myriad souls to suffer.”

The memories hit Luna’s mind with an unexpected ferocity. Sometimes she wanted to afford the luxury of thinking that she wasn’t traumatized by Insomnia’s destruction, but she was. She really was. Even if she had already Nyx next to her at that time, she couldn’t forget the horrible feeling in her guts when Glauca passed his sword through Regis’s spine the same way he did with her mother. Nor she could forget the sensation of having buildings almost falling upon her, the screams of the citizens panicking around, the fire illuminating their skin, the blood on her dress, the smell of the ashes and powder, the uncertainty of not being able to do what it was her duty to do.

After stopping for a second, Luna regained enough energy to continue: “Yet, I beg you, do not surrender to despair. Have faith, for even if our gods would abandon us, the real power to resist darkness is inside every one of us. Working together, we can build a new world, a new future where the sun always shines. Where the night will mean only dreams instead of nightmares, where the rays of the moon will illuminate the peace fell upon us all. Our world will be delivered from the perils of the dark. I stand before you here, in Altissia, to call upon Leviathan, Goddess of the Seas, spirit of the deep. But first I offer you my solemn vow: on my honor as Oracle, I will not rest until the darkness is banished from our world and the light is restored.”

And in that very moment, an emotional applause covered her words. She looked into the crowd and she spotted a single familiar face. She couldn’t be certain of his identity because so many years passed since last time they talked. Only when he nodded, Luna could sigh in relief.

Noctis.

Her childhood friend.

She smiled, nodding back to him, and turned away.

————-

Ignis was incredibly fast for a man moving in such an elegant suit. Nyx expected to have to slow down the pace, but thanks to the stars it wasn’t necessary. They both ran so fast it was even hard to catch them with the eyes. Their goal was the altar but arriving there was more difficult than they expected.

The city was completely empty so they didn’t have to worry too much about people left behind and if this was a good thing, it also meant Altissia wasn’t a safe place for them neither.

A dark grey sky was illuminating a ghost town, touched only by a cold wind and spurts of water coming from the sea. It wasn’t raining yet, but there was so much humidity that the effect on the clothes and skin was very similar. It was so creepy that Nyx hardly recognized the warm and romantic city who welcomed him and the Princess only a week before.

In the meantime, Ignis continued to run, unstoppable. It looked like he knew perfectly every narrow lane and every hidden path, which was probably true since he seemed like the kind of guy who studies maps at night to be prepared the day after. If it wasn’t for him, Nyx wouldn’t have reached the cathedral square so fast.

“This is where Lady Lunafreya had her speech,” the young Advisor explained quickly, not bothering to stop to catch his breath. The place where they arrived was huge and now empty. The ferocious and supernatural wind pulled papers and trash on the beautiful tiles of the square, turning the original beauty into a desolated open space. “She headed in that direction. The altar must be there.”

Nyx grabbed Ignis’ arm, forcing him to stop.“You shouldn’t come with me. It’s too dangerous. A mess bigger than you think is about to start and you must not die.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Nyx shook his head, that was not what he meant. “I don’t doubt it. It’s not you I am worried about. Go to the Prince, keep him safe. If you die before, you won’t be able to do it.”

“What about Lady Lunafreya?”

Nyx closed fists, his eyes grew darker as he whispered, determined. “You have the Prince, I have the Princess. It’s my job to keep her safe. I won’t allow anyone to do any harm to her, as much as you won’t allow anyone to hurt the Prince.”

“You’ll need help.”

At that words, Nyx smirked, but the smiled didn’t reach his blue eyes. “Yes, I know. But I’ll manage it somehow.”

Behind the glasses, Ignis’ pupils reveled his evident desire to go back to Noctis and stand by his side during the battle. He clearly wanted to be helpful and he knew the best way to do it was to go back to his friend.

“Don’t die,” he said, finally nodding. They were in the center of the square and the dark clouds announcing a supernatural event we’re surrounding them. It felt somehow like a goodbye.

Nyx was about to answer when a sudden earthquake shook the floor underneath their feet. They barely had the strength to stand straight before a frightening noise broke the sky in two. They quickly turned to watch the sea in the distance and they saw the huge profile of Leviathan breaking out of the ocean, screaming with a terrible voice, capable of making the bravest man to shiver.

“The Hydraean!” Ignis screamed, his voice bearable audible in the chaos.

“Lunafreya has begun the rite!”

Ignis and Nyx shared one more look and nodded. They would have proceed with the plan if another intimidating noise - this time much closer - wouldn’t have interrupted. It wasn’t good news.

An entire fleet of imperial airships was on their way towards the altar, and as they passed by, Nyx noticed one in particular staying behind. Nyx instinctively wielded his kukris, because he kinda knew who was inside it. As a matter of fact, that single airship veered towards them.

“Bet it’s the Chancellor!” Nyx screamed so Ignis would hear him. The advisor wielded his knifes too, ready to fight, but when a small army of MTs jumped down the airship, there was not much they could do if not starting to kill them all one by one.

Nyx and Ignis formed an unexpected compatible duo in battles. Nyx was more impulsive but this defect was balanced by Ignis’ impeccable strategies he kept yelling at him. As expected, Nyx was a better soldier. His magic was way more powerful thanks to the warp and the spells he learned to use in the Kingsglaive so together they needed only a couple of minutes to have the situation under control. As soon as they did, Nyx caught the Chancellor’s profile watching them from the airship.

“I knew it” he had the time to whisper before Ardyn Izunia jumped down on the square next to them.

“You escaped the dungeon. Why am i not surprised, I wonder” he spoke out loud, gesticulating at Nyx like he was an old friend he was glad to meet again. “And you’ve got company I see.” Ignis’ eyes narrowed in the attempt of lining up the pieces of the puzzle, he certainly had no idea of what was really happening. In spite of this, when he spotted the Glaive wielding the kukris against the Chancellor, he did the same, lips arching in a menacing grimace.

“Go to Lady Lunafreya” he ordered, like the strategist he was.

“You have to run away, too. Fighting him now would be out of our league.”

“I fear it is” Ignis admitted, but his elegant accent didn’t lose the composure.

Yet, Ardyn Izunia summoned a weapon in that very moment, a beautiful sword Ignis could swear he saw already somewhere. Was that really an ancestral weapon? Things were getting even more confusing at this point.

A dozen of other imperial soldiers appeared out of the fog in that very moment, charging against them with the ferocity of an entire army.

Nyx had less than two seconds to decide. He didn’t want to abandon an ally like Ignis there, because he knew that would have been the equivalent of a sentence to death. At the same time, he knew that staying there to fight wouldn’t have helped Ignis anyway. They both would have died and the sacrifice would have been heroic yet useless. But in spite of any logic, for Nyx it just wasn’t an option. He never abandoned a companion during all his military career and he certainly wouldn’t had now. Wasn’t he the hero of Kingsglaive after all?

“Hell no.” Nyx said, then, with a smug smile on the face.

The impact was violent. There was shooting, iron against iron, screams, smell of sweat and blood. Ardyn chose Nyx as his direct adversary, so the soldiers threw themselves on Ignis. They took him down after less than a minute, attacking him from the front and from the back. The Strategist was really good in using magic even if he was just a member of the Crownsguard and not a Glaive like Nyx, so he was able to free himself a couple of time, but he would have died pretty fast anyway if it wasn’t for a long sword coming to help him. Looking up to see who was there surprised Ignis a lot:

“Lord Ravus!��

“I will regret this, Scientia. But for now, let’s just join forces.”

In spite of the impression he wanted to give, Ravus proved himself a lot less careless than he would have ever like to admit. Understanding that there would have never been a more crucial battle, he was ready to play the “it’s now or never” game.

Ignis didn’t need to be asked twice. No matter how much he was covered in sweat and blood, he stood up again. He and Ravus joined together against the imperial soldiers, opening a way to reach Nyx and Ardyn.

In the meantime the Glaive - who was hardly warding off Ardyn’s knocks - noticed Ravus’ arrival and with a smooth somersault, he moved back, crouched down and then warped ahead, so he could reach the allies.In a second, Nyx, Ravus and Ignis were standing one next to the others, watching their backs to protect themselves from the Empire’s wrath. In a way, counting on the support of such skilled allies was a relief, but it couldn’t last, because they had to part as soon as possible. In fact, Ravus’ true intentions were reveled when he said: “Ulric, go to Lunafreya. I’ll stay with Scientia, so you can stop playing the war hero.”

Nyx smirked but nodded, silently thanking his brand new brother in law for the help.

Under the Chancellor’s eyes, Nyx avoided a soldier which was attacking him, and was forced to warp on the closest airship to avoid the hit. The platform were he land was empty and safe, a perfect spot to watch the situation from another angle. However, when the airship started to move, Nyx gasped, glad but also worried for not knowing the direction he was headed to.

“Don’t die, ok?” He screamed anyway towards Ignis and Ravus, which still were in the center of the square, surrounded by imperial soldiers. He didn’t leave lighthearted, on the contrary, he knew that both Ignis and Ravus were risking their life and that their possibilities of survival were very few.

He cursed under-breath as he noticed that Leviathan in the distance was throwing huge pieces of buildings up in the air. Some reached the area close to them, starting fires and destroying everything. He focused again on the two allies getting smaller and smaller from the safe place on the airship. He noticed that they started to fight already but in a very short time Ignis was immobilized on the floor by the imperial soldiers. The rain was wetting his glasses, the mud sullied his elegant suit. It was a pitiful view even from afar and Nyx hated it. In fact he felt the urge to warp back to help him but decided to trust Ravus.

The last thing he saw was Ardyn Izunia swaying towards the royal Advisor and saying something, before he turned to watch the Glaive go with the most malicious blink.

Nyx closed fists, knowing it still wasn’t over.

And in the distance, the yell of Leviathan broke the sky in two.

————

Everything was still. In front of the altar where she was standing, there was nothing but the sea, fogged by the upcoming cataclysm.

Lunafreya collected her energy to perform the Awakening for the last time. Even if the disease weakened her enormously, she still had in her what she needed and after all, that was her calling. She did it perfectly. As she felt a quake in her magic, also the earth underneath her trembled in a similar way and the ocean curled up in spirals, making space for the ferocity of the Goddess of the Sea. The huge creature, with the form of a snake or better a dragon, appeared abruptly from the depths of the waters, screaming her anger out and spilling intolerance. Even if Luna got immediately soaking wet, she didn’t flinch. She stood still, the trident in her hand, with a determined glow in her eyes.

“What fool mortal dares break the slumber of the Tide!?” The Hydraen’s voice was like the broken noise of a vibrant radio station, it was terrible, harsh, strident. Luna needed all her strenght to not step back.

“It is I, Lunafreya, blood of the Oracle! Goddess of the Seas, I beseech you: cease your vain attempts of using mankind for revenge. Bless us all with the freedom of choosing about our own destiny.” Her request was simple: she just wanted to be set free.

“This wretched pile of bones and flesh, ignorant of that which governs all, comes to requisition the might of a goddess?“

"I do.”

“Blasphemous ingrates, all men, quick to forget the ages their goddess stood watch!” With a single violent wave, Leviathan threw the princess against a wall. The poor soul almost fainted because of the pain and blinking her trembling hands, she used the trident to regain footing. Her voice was beautiful in the chaos:

“It is in receiving mercy that men offer praise, and in shedding grace that the gods solicit worship.”

But Leviathan wasn’t inclined to accept any praise, and temperment most foul to afford shedding grace. “Yet this profane speck speaks her «freedom» heresies before a goddess! Insufferable sacrilege! Such a thing is far beyond your control!”

Lunafreya stared at the wild creature in front of her, as the saddest sigh touched her lips: “Well, I had to try to ask nicely”. But now, all she could do was to proceed with the plan, even if that would have meant risking more than her own life. If she failed, the entire world would have paid for her act of rebellion. Yet it was for the world’s sake she had to try.

She raised her trident up to the sky, releasing all her white magic in a single burst. It was unexpected, not even the Goddess of the Sea could imagine to be hurt immediately after her awakening. Nor she could expect to be hit by the Oracle itself.

The brilliant ray of power emanated from Luna cut both her fins and slashed the scales near her throat, but didn’t kill her immediately. On the contrary, it provoked her rage even more. As a reaction, Leviathan moved her tale, hitting Luna with an impressive wall of water and she didn’t fall in the depths of the ocean only because she found a rock to hold on to. As the Oracle spat out salt water that assaulted her nose and mouth, she took a second to recover and then tried again to raise her trident in the air. Leviathan was badly injured which made her extremely exasperated. As the Goddess lost from her fins the same silver blood Shiva shed too, she moved again out of control, causing such an hysteria that Luna couldn’t hit her again with the trident’s magic.

The Oracle let the adrenaline take over her own mind, so she could jump from a debris to another debris. Her beautiful white dress tore apart, a irregular slit appeared on the soft material but the girl didn’t bother. She helped herself with her own bare hands, turning the long skirt into a messy mini. After that, she looked out for an ally in all that chaos, knowing someone must be there.

In fact, Noctis appeared in that very moment on a spike in the distance. Luna felt a light squeeze on her heart as she watched the future King of Kings standing there, ready to fight and keep to his duty. In spite of his huge role in the destiny of the world, he still was the childhood friend whose memory filled Luna’s mind for years. Who knew if he used the Ring already and if its power started to corrupt his bones, leading him inevitably to self destruction. The coming developments would have revealed it to her in the hard way.

Lunafreya understood immediately what she was supposed to do now that she noticed the young prince in the chaos: reach out for him and fill him with the Oracle’s magic so he would have the strength to take the battle to Leviathan head on.

Clasping her fingers around the trident’s cold metal, Luna rushed ahead, trying to get close.

The war cries of the Sea Goddess were deafening and because of them, Luna missed an imperial airship’s arrival, coming out of the blue toward her direction. She stopped, staring in surprise at the Chancellor Ardyn Izunia himself descendingto meet with her.

Luna couldn’t believe at her eyes when the man grinned with a wicked smirk that illuminated his entire face, concealing nothing to the Oracle. He had came for her and now she hadn’t nowhereelse to run.

#lunyx #kingsglaive #final fantasy xv #lunafreya nox fleuret #nyx ulric

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asseret-sarim · 7 years

Text

The Past, The Present... The future- Part 10

Summary: In SHIELD you are known for your charisma and your irrational optimism. Specially taking in count the irreversible curse HYDRA condemned you with. Because of that, Director Fury has determinate that you are the best person to take care of Bucky’s mental state.

Chapter 10: Recovery

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Y/N: Your name

Warnings: None! (Surprisingly)

A/N: Guess what? I’m not actually dead! But I’m guessing I will soon be for taking so long on uploading this. Believe me, I’m sorry! I didn’t have wifi! But yeah, you have the right to kill me. But enjoy this first!

Previously: Part 1, Part 9

Previously:

“Amonaliac” she whispers, her breath short from pain. “Hy-dra developed it when I-I was s-still with them. It is.. It.. It is a s-substance t-that stops m-my healing powers.” she grimaces after the effort of putting three sentences together, and closes her eyes as I lay a hand on her forehead.

“The knifes and bullets where soaked in it.” I explain as Tony and Bruce keep working. Stark is currently working on the cuts, cleaning them and bandaging them appropriately, but Banner isn’t working as swiftly as him. The doctor looks at the bullet wounds as if they where a big threat.

“I don’t have time to sedate you.” he finally announces with an apologetical tone, putting on medical gloves.

Y/N mumbles something like ‘Just go ahead, doctor’. He instructs me to hold her hand while he starts treating the wound. Everything’s going fine until Bruce has to take out the bullet. As soon as he starts, Y/N’s grip on my hand tightens as her back arches off the table. I kneel next to her, not letting go of her hand. “C’mon doll. You can do this” I whisper at her ear and she lets out a nearly imperceptible grunt.

Her eyes open suddenly, showing pain, but she looks at me and manages to smile. “I trust you” she babbles out, her breath heavy, and the grip on my hand even tighter.

As the scientist work, I can’t help but notice Tony’s deep-in-thought gaze falling over us.

Steve’s POV:

It’s been nearly three weeks since Bucky found Y/N nearly lifeless in the middle of the forest, but the atmosphere in the compound is still heavy. As I make my way to the common room for a meeting, I think about how much the girl has managed to impact our lives in the little time she has spent here.

When I enter, Tony greets me with a nod, his eyes empty and tired, and his eleventh cup of coffee in hand. I know he felt like a father figure to Y/N, but I don’t know how to explain to him that his self destructive tendencies won’t help her. I hope Rhodey, sitting next to him, is doing a better job then me.

Wanda doesn’t look any better. She had deep bags under her eyes and, as she moves her hand absently, red patterns spiral out of it and vanish, leaving an invisible feeling of sadness in the air.

Natasha is laying next to Clint on the sofa. Clint looks sick worried, guilt filling his eyes, and clutched, white-knuckled fists. He is supposed to be with her family this week, but has decided to stay in to know how everything is going. He really looks terrible.

But Natasha… Nat’s face renders no emotion. She doesn’t look worried, or guilty, or frustrated, like everybody else. She just… Doesn’t feel. Not anymore, at least. I suppose it’s a coping mechanism. One everyone in here wish they had.

Sam, standing behind me, frowns at the room “Man, we are a disaster” he mumbles to no one in particular as he goes to sit next to a less-cheerful-than-usual Thor, and a silent Vision. I follow his lead.

“Any news?” I ask Tony. He sights and leaves the cup on the table.

“Not that I know. Bruce says she’s feeling better, but her body hasn’t had to deal with wounds for itself in a very long time, and the effort is draining her.” Tony squeezes his eyes shut and pulls his head back, the way he always does when he feels frustrated.

“Leastways, Lady Y/N is better. We owe to focus on the good news.” Thor tries to lift our spirits. But his voice has lost the imperious tone it used to have, he doesn’t speak like a shakespearean actor anymore, but rather like a normal person. An that just adds on to my feeling of desperation.

Just then Bucky irrupts on the room. Since Y/N’s accident, he’s turned into a living shadow. He seems to be surrounded by a black swirl of depression, and he’s never been more silent or less “there”. He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t have to either. His eyes, that scream misery like lost souls begging for an escape, say more than he could ever express with words.

I reach over to confort him, but he eludes my look and drops himself on one of the back seats, away from everyone.

Time seems to go by painfully slow. “Does anyone know what this meeting is about?” Sam asks softly.

“No, but I think it was requested by Fury” answers Wanda, her sadness accentuating her eastern-european accent.

“A mission” Tony mumbles angrily, making clear that he couldn’t care less.

“You’re going, right?” Rhodey questions him. Tony shoots him a look that seems to say ‘Of course not.’ “Tony, you’ve been laying around like a soulless body for the past three weeks! You haven’t worn the suit even once! Guys, I know this is sad, but we have to get ahead of ourse-”

Rhodey is interrupted by Dr Banner, that enters the room in his white doctor coat. Immediately, we are all standing and surrounding him, asking more questions than what he can answer.

“Guys, guys, calm down!” he tries to regain control of the room with a serious expression, but on his lips I can distinguish a little smile of excitement. Good news. “Ok, I know you’re all feeling down, and worried, and all that. So I have a surprise for you!”

“How’s Y/N?” Tony ignores his little speech. His tone is hard, oblivious to his excited smile.

Bruce just sights and asks us to sit down. Then he turns towards the door. “You can come in.”

With shy and careful steps, someone enters the room, making it go silent in a second. A few moments pass by and no-one moves. And then, just as suddenly as the silence started, it is broken by Clint.

“Y/N!” the archer screams, hugging the weak figure of our beloved teammate. Everyone follows his lead and soon we are all surrounding Y/N in a group hug.

“Guys… Oxygen.” she laughs as we pull away. Her eyes examine all of us slowly, a heartwarming smile on her lips. “I’ve missed you all. How were this three weeks without me? Bet they were terrible.” she winks playfully.

“They were amazing! Finally some rest.” Tony brings the coffee cup to his lips, pretending to be indifferent to her arrival.

In response, Y/N punches his arm laughing “A cup of coffee at six pm? I think you missed me, Tony.”

He raises his arms, defeated, and we all laugh. The first laugh in three weeks. As if we needed any more prof of how important she is to us. She smiles at our happy faces, but her expression suddenly freezes with pain.

Bucky’s POV:

I don’t notice doctor Banner has entered the common room until everyone starts asking him questions. Gosh, they seem anxious to know how Y/N is. I shoot him a look, wondering if I should go hear what he has to say, but I don’t. I don’t think I can bear any more bad news, specially when everything that has happened is my fault. I ball my fists at the thought of it, remembering how selfish and stupid I was that night, leaving Y/N alone.

“… and worried, and all that. So I have a surprise for you!” I can sense Banner’s excitement, but can’t help but to roll my eyes. Really, Bruce? A surprise? What they want is to have Y/N back.

“How’s Y/N?” Tony doesn’t seem happy about it either, and for once, I agree with him.

“Sit down guys” Bruce sights and turns to the door. “You can come in”

I tense up, unable to believe it. Could the surprise possibly be…? No, no I can’t build up stupid expectations. I look angrily at the ground, lecturing myself about reality.

But then silence falls, and my curiosity gives in. I look up to see the pale and weak figure of Y/N standing on the doorframe, and all of a sudden I have no oxygen. Everyone stands up to hug her, but I don’t move. I can’t move. I can’t stand the thought of her being angry with me or being sacred of me again after what she remembered. Tears fill my eyes as I look away.

“Guys… Oxygen” her voice is warm and happy, but still weak. Guilt is eating me alive, but I can’t exit the room without being noticed.

As in a dream, Y/N jokes with Tony and the rest of the team, and their laughs fill the room again, after all this time. It seems incredible, all of it a soundless blur. What is happening to me? It doesn’t matter, I deserve it.

I feel a burning stare piercing through me. I suddenly realize the room is completely quiet, all the laughs have died down, and lift my head.

Y/N is looking at me, sadness filling her eyes and expression “Bucky…”

I can’t stand it. This is all my fault, and she probably hates me. Or pities me. Either one, I don’t want it. I stand up angrily and storm out of the room, but before I reach the door, a steady hand grabs my arm.

I turn around to find Steve face to face with me and Y/N supporting herself on Natasha and Wanda’s shoulder. “What are you doing?” I shove him away as I scream, anger filling me “What do you want? I have no place in this room, except to annoy everyone. Let me be and I will disappear, as you all want!”

I exit the room in a cloud of frustration and anger, not towards Steve, but towards myself. I hear talking, but pay no attention to it until a very particular voice makes me stop dead on my tracks.

“Bucky. Please, don’t run away. I can’t really run behind you right now.” Y/N leans against a wall, breathing heavily. “Oh, man, my ribs. Why do you avoid me?”

“You hate me.” I mumble, not really knowing what to say.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t.” she laughs. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have possibly know there were HYDRA agents in the forest. And I should have known better than to run through it at night.”

No, she can’t blame herself. This is in no way her fault. It just isn’t. “It’s not your fault, Y/N. It can’t possibly be. I was stupid and selfish…”

“And I was reckless and childish.” she similes sadly. I notice she has moved towards me, and now we are face to face. “The feeling you have that it can’t possibly be my fault… I have the same towards you, Barnes.” she whispers. “I don’t know how you can think it was your fault.”

“But you got hurt” I whisper back, my hand unconsciously stroking the bandage on her forehead.

“Yes, and I would have died if it wasn’t for you” she covers my hand with her hand.

“Yes but…” her eyes are mesmerizing, and it feels like they are piercing through me. I have to look away, and my gaze slowly find itself over her lips. She is not smiling anymore, but her lips look soft and sweet, slightly parted. Her breath falls into mines as I unconsciously lean in. Her eyes show insecurity and desire at the same time, and she draws in a sharp breath, her face feeling hot under my fingers. My hand drifts to her cheek and it seems to give her the confidence to slowly lean in as well…

“As much as I love that you two have reconciled, I would beg you, Sergeant, that you would allow Y/N to have a clear mind for today’s meeting.” The voice startles us, and we quickly step away from each other, blushing. In the other side of the corridor, stands none other than director Nick Fury, an undecipherable expression on his face. He greets us with a nod and then walks past us to the common room, gesturing us to go inside “It you will, today’s meeting is important.”

Part 11 - Coming soon!

A million thanks to @beccaanne814-blog @annadier @lilasiannerd @obsessivegeekynerd @drinkfantasy @graysonmalfoy @scoobertdoobert2 @violentlyfarts @queenllamamama13 @agentraven007 @brutalwerewolf @isaxhorror @katundeadd @chrixa @i-am-mina @musichowler @panic-at-the-camisado @chipilerendi @thesalsafic @jennymagicalheart @amrita31199 @crazyliraz @psm2303 @s-eabasstian @5secondsofonedirection222 @38leticia @accidentally-in-hell @namastay-in-bed-2002 @paulaamarieee @ipaintmelodies @brokennoon @laughandwrite @the-strandedgypsy @nessy-bearxb @the-witching-hours12-3 @ravenclaw-geek24 @cookies186 @mariah-notcarey17 @courtneychicken @17marvelousfreak @erinvanlyssel @fanmrvlgirl @starannoballandocomedeglizingari @pixierox101 @girlwith100names @blushingunicorn101 @captain-bibi-universe @beingsad-is-kindofrad @sebstanwassup @abbybills22 @miss-lumiere @lexisdisastrousstudies @beach--babe and all the amazing people who are with me on this adventure. Woah guys, we’ve grown!

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine

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randomfanfictiontime · 8 years

Text

Meant to Be

Summary: A meeting with Cupid leaves some tension between you and Dean

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2807

Warning: Fluff

(A/N): Originally on Wattpad, but since I had no ideas for any other stories, might as well give you guys something am I right?

"Hello, I'm Special Agent Cliff and this is my partner Agent Carter. We are here to ask you a few questions if you don't mind." Sam stated, showing the lady his badge while I did the same.

"Of course. Come in. I was just packing some things." She said, moving over to the mantle to grab a few pictures off of it. While Sam moved over to the fridge, I started asking a few questions.

"So, were you the one that found the bodies?" She nodded.

"It was horrific. There was blood everywhere, along with... other stuff. I'm pretty sure Alice was already dead. Russell was mostly dead. Except he was still, uh, chewing a little." Sam walked back over to stand beside of me.

"Did you notice Alice acting weird in the last few days? Like more hostile? Aggressive?" She shook her head.

"Alice was a nice girl. Never drank. Never cussed. She still had her promise ring on, if you know what I mean." She picked up a worn stuffed bunny and smiled sadly.

"It was her first date in months. She was so excited. I don't understand how two people can just do that. Eat each other to death."

"Me neither." I mumbled.

~~~~~~~~~

When we made it back to the motel, Dean was sitting at the table reading something.

"Anything?"

I sighed as I ran a finger through my (H/C) hair. "No. Nothing. No EMF. No sulfur."

"Well then what is it? I was betting on it to be a ghost or demon possession. You should have seen those bodies. They started eating and just didn't stop. Their stomach was full. Thanksgiving dinner full."

I visibly grimaced and got up to get a beer from the fridge.

"Not much else we can do tonight. I'll finish looking through the files. You two can go ahead and get going." I stayed bent down in front of the fridge door, letting the door hide my face. I knew exactly what Sam was talking about.

"I'm sorry?"

"Y'know unleash the kraken. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Where am I going?"

"Dean, it's Valentines Day. Your favorite holiday. What did you call it again? Unattached drifters Christmas?"

As soon as I closed the fridge door, I saw Dean get up and go to it, probably getting another beer.

"Yeah well, I don't know. I guess I'm just not feeling it this year." The room was silent for a few seconds except for the small squeak of the bed as I sat down.

"What?" Dean asked.

"It's like when a puppy doesn't eat. You automatically know something's really wrong." I couldn't help but snicker a little at that comment.

"Well are you going out, (Y/N)? I know you also love this holiday."

I shrugged. "I don't know. I don't usually go out in the first place. I like Valentines Day because it gives couples a chance to show that they really love each other. Not just for the sex, Sam."

"Oh well I guess that's the line drawing the difference between you and Dean."

"Ha ha. Very funny. Now that that's established, are we gonna get to work or what." Dean muttered.

~~~~~(The Next Day)~~~~~

As Sam, Dean, and I walked towards the door to the coroners room, I noticed that Sam started to look at a man in a black suit with a briefcase like he had just seen a ghost.

"Sam. You okay?" I muttered lowly so Dean wouldn't hear me.

"Huh? Oh yeah I'm fine." I was still a little skeptical but I let it go.

As I made my way into the office, Dean was introducing Sam and I.

"These are my partners Special Agent Cliff and Agent Carter." The coroner shook our hands before leaving us to examine the bodies.

"Hey, (Y/N)." I hummed in response. He pushed the tub with a heart in it towards me.

"Be my valentine?" He asked in a childish way. Despite me rolling my eyes, I couldn't help the little flutter in my belly. He smiled cheekily.

"Woah whoa wait a second. These hearts have the same markings. Check this out. It looks like some kind of letter."

"Meh. Kinda reminds me of a heart shape without the pointy end." I shrug.

"Oh no. I think it's Enochian."

"What like angel markings? Like the tagging on our ribs?"

"I don't know."

"Ah hell." Dean mumbled while pulling his phone out to call Cas. Cas appeared only a second later.

"Your right, Sam. These are angelic marks. I imagine that you can find similar markings on the other couples' hearts as well. It's a marking of union. This man and woman were intended to mate."

"Alright so who put them there?" I inquired. Cas turned to us.

"Well, you people call them Cupid."

"Them?"

"A what?" Sam and I both said at the same time. I have always loved Greek-mythology so I was quite surprised to hear him say 'them'. I thought there was only one.

"No, (Y/N). There is a lot more than one. What human myth has mistaken for Cupid is actually a lower order of angel. Technically a cherub. Third class. They are all over the world."

"You mean the little flying fat kid with a diaper?"

"So what your saying is-" Cas cut him off annoyingly.

"What I'm saying is that a cupid has gone rogue and we have to stop him before he kills again.

~~~~~~

For some reason, being in this restaurant makes me feel uneasy. The waitress hands all of us our food. All I had gotten was a soda. I asked for a slice of pie but they didn't have any.

"So what, you just happen to know that he like hanging out at places like this?"

"This place is a nexus of human reproduction. This is exactly the place the Cupid would come to... pollinate..." Cas trailed off, eyeing Dean's burger. I raise my eyebrow at him but he's to busy making googly eyes at the burger to notice. Dean drops his burger and pushes his plate away from him. Sam noticed as well.

"Wait a minute. You're not hungry. You?"

Dean looks at me nervously.

"No.... What I'm not hungry."

"Are you sick?" You ask playfully while pretending to check for a fever by placing the back of your hand on his forehead. I was sitting next to him so it was easier access. He gently pushed my hand away while sighing.

"Then your not gonna finish that?" Before Dean could answer, Cas grabbed the plate and started eating. Everyone at the table, including myself, looked at him as if he sprouted a second head. Cas stopped abruptly and looked around.

"He's here."

We all started looking around, not seeing a thing. Cas made a wind blow through the restaurant, making my hair flutter all over my face.

"Geez, Cas. Give me a warning next time." I mumbled. When I finally got the hair out of my face and patted down, I saw Dean staring at me.

"What? Is there something on my face?" He seemed surprised, as if he didn't notice I saw him looking at me. As if he was in a trance.

"Uh, no." He shook his head and looked around the restaurant once more.

"There."

"What, you mean the same-side-of-the-booth couple over there?"

"Meet me in the back." And just like that, Cas was gone.

When we made our way there, we saw Cas standing there with his arm outstretched. He started chanting some spell.

"Well? Where is he?" Dean stood, looking around. Just then I heard Dean grunt.

"Here I am~." I quickly turned around to see a pale man hugging Dean from behind, lifting him off of the ground, being shook around. I started laughing my ass off.

"Hahaha." I bent over laughing. Dean kept trying to get out of the man's embrace.

"Help!" He struggled.

"Oh, don't you worry. Help is on the way. Yes it is. Yes it is." The man cooed in a babyish voice while giggling. That just made me laugh even harder.

"Shut up, (Y/N)!" Dean yelled at me. I clutch my stomach as tears start coming out of my eyes from laughing so hard. All of a sudden, the man let go of Dean and started towards Cas.

"Hello, you!" That's when I noticed he was completely naked. Not even a diaper. That made me let out another giggle as I realized that when he was hugging Dean, he was naked. Dean shot a glare in my direction, knowing what I was laughing about. I tried to stifle my laughs but it didn't really work.

"This is Cupid?"

"Yes." Cupid looked at Sam and started walking towards him.

"And look at you, huh?" Sam was frantically shaking his head, saying no. But Cupid engulfed him in a hug anyway. I couldn't contain my giggle anymore.

"Is this a fight? Are we in a fight? What is this?"

"It's their handshake."

"Well I don't like it."

"No one likes it."

Hope was bubbling up inside of me at the thought of Cupid forgetting to 'greet' me. But Dean wasn't going let that happen.

"Don't forget about little miss (Y/N)." He smirked. Cupid gasped as he let go of Sam.

"I would never. Look at you. You're so pretty." He came bounding over to me as I glared at Dean. I began backing up to get away from but that proved to be a useless effort as he caught up to me a squeezed me to death.

"Ugh. Dean... You asshat." I breathed out. But he was too busy looking triumphantly at Sam, thinking he was successfully getting revenge on me. Oh he is so going to get it later. Cupid finally let go off me, leaving me to gasp for air. Boy, did he have a strong bear hug.

"What can I do for you." He asked, turning towards Cas.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"The targets you've marked. They are slaughtering each other." Cupid's smile faded.

"What? They are?" Dean was just getting angrier by the second it seemed.

"Listen, birthday suit. We know. We know how you've been going around, popping people with your poison arrow, making em' murder each other." At this point, Cupid started to look like he was going to cry. I almost felt bad for him.

"What we don't know is why."

"You think that I..." He trailed off.

"Well, uh... I-I don't know what to say." He went crying toward me and pulled me into another hug, crying on my shoulder. I just stood there, unmoving. The others turned around to look at me and him. Cupid just kept on crying. I awkwardly brought my arms up and patted him on the back. All eyes were on you, urging you to talk to him.

"We, uh, didn't mean to...hurt your feelings." At that moment, he hugged me tighter. I don't know what happened but I suddenly relaxed and started to try and comfort him. I rubbed his back, calming his crying.

"Love is more than a word to me. I love love. I love it and if that's wrong then I don't wanna be right." He finally let go of me.

"I was just on my evening rounds. Whatever my targets do after that has nothing to do with me. I was just following my orders."

Cas stared at him for a second, quickly glanced at me, then spoke up.

"He's telling the truth."

"What orders?" Cupid looked at Dean like he was crazy.

"Heaven's, silly, heaven."

"Why do they care if Harry meets Sally?"

"Oh mostly they don't. But ya know, certain bloodlines. Certain destinies. Like yours." He moved his finger signaling to me and Dean. At this point I was utterly confused.

"What do you mean?" I asked. He turned around to me.

"Oh you know. The union between (Y/N) (L/N) and Dean Winchester," he popped open his hands like a flower blooming when he said that, "Very big deal upstairs." My eyes widen as I looked to Dean who was also staring at me. Suddenly, my mouth felt dry.

"I-I'm sorry you must have the wrong gal." My denial kicked in. There was no way I was supposed to be paired with Dean.

"Hmmm... Nope. Definitely supposed to happen. In fact..." He trailed off and came up to me. He put his hand on my heart.

"Yep. You're already marked. You're already longing for him. You and Dean should've been united already." He smiled at me and then at Dean who looked like he had just seen a ghost. My heart started to beat even faster as the blush on my cheeks deepened.

"It's like the union of your parents. John and Mary Winchester. Destined to happen. Top priority arrangement." He said turning towards Sam and Dean.

"I-I gotta go." I say as I fast walked, which turned into a run, out of the door. I bolted out of the restaurant, past the impala, and to the park that was across the street. I sat down on the bench, put my head in my hands, and sighed. Sniffling, I heard the fluttering of wings.

"(Y/N)-" Cas started but I cut him off.

"Don't bother, Cas. The secrets out. Now he knows that I like him. He's never gonna stop teasing me about it. I'm gonna have to quit h-hunting with them, just s-so I won't have to face him each morning." My eyes brimmed with tears. That was by far the worst situation I have ever been in. Not to mention embarrassing. I felt the bench move a little; indicating that Cas had sat beside me.

"Just tell me one thing, Cas. Was he telling the truth? Was all of that crap about it being important for me and Dean to get together true?"

"Yes. Your offspring has a very important role to play in the future. He won't make fun of you. He's too kind for that. Besides, the union involves him too." I look at Cas, teary eyed.

"(Y/N)?" You heard a familiar voice say. You looked up to see Dean standing before Cas and I.

"I'll, uh, leave you two alone to talk." He got up and started walking back towards the restaurant. Dean sat next to you. He opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off.

"Dean, before you say anything, I don't need you to tease me about it. I get it that you don't actually feel the same, seeing as how many women you screw on a monthly bases, so please... Let's just forget this happened okay?" I wiped your eyes and moved to get up but and arm was pulling me back down.

"I wasn't gonna make fun of you. Truth be told, I was sort of happy when that cupid was talking about us being a priority to unite. It made my feelings for you feel not so heavy." I just stared at him with wide eyes.

"What he said in there... Was it true? About you being in love with me?" He asked hesitantly, not meeting my gaze. I looked down sheepishly.

"Y-yeah."

"For how long?" I looked at him.

"I guess ever since I met you. But I never said anything because I didn't think the feelings were mutual."

"Oh they were mutual. Very mutual. I just didn't realize how hard I had fallen until now." By this point, he was looking at me. Those stunning green eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

"But what about all those women?"

"I don't know. I guess I just wanted to get my mind off of you." I just nodded and looked back at my black flats. I felt a hand under my chin, pulling my gaze back to the man beside of me.

"I really do love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too, Dean." He leaned in towards me and closed the small distance between our lips, pulling me into a sweet, passionate kiss. We stayed this way for a few moments before we both broke away in need of air.

"So? Want to make a cupid's job easier and be with me?" He asked. I laughed a bit before taking my hand in his.

"Yes." His smile grew, showing off his pearly whites.

Forever Tags:

@trustnobodyshootfirst, @16wiishes, @missmalfoy1703

Dean Fics Tags:

@johnmurphys-sass, @i-am-a-fangirl-okay, @artickristina

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester imagine #supernatural x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine

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