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joontier · 4 years

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The King’s Guard | Chapter 3

–> Pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

–> Rating: R

–> Genre/warnings: implications of insomnia; implied infidelity; slight depictions of death of mc; slight angst; fluffy FLUff; humor smut (y/n is such a horndog tbh or maybe the author is too wink wonk; pool sex; masturbation; dom jk undertones; slight switch!jk too sHIt; fingering; voyeurism; unprotected sex; exhibitionism; fingering; boob play kookie jus like dem boobies mkay; thigh riding)

–> Word count: 10.4k

–> A/N: This has less drama and more dialogues than the previous chapters bc we all needed a break from all the angsty angst AMIRITE? Anywho, as usual Korean vocab used will be placed at the end of the chapter. TELL ME WHATCHA YALL THINK PEOPLE shsfskdjf

The King’s Guard - Masterlist || navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 3

With the Chuseok Festival just around the corner, the palace is practically buzzing, palace workers out and about the hanoks. You had also busied yourself with your own responsibilities and those of Seokjin’s. It’s been a fortnight since he’s left, and you’re partly thankful that the preparations for the festivities are constantly occupying your mind enough during the day so you don’t worry much about your husband.

Your days now consists of council meetings, classes with the children of the capitol, kitchen checks, palace inspections, village hearings. The list was endless. Admittedly, you had become less amiable as the days pass by, most likely from the doubled amount of responsibility you now have on your hands. It doesn’t help either that the people supposedly helping you with your duties are mostly useless. Just like the so-called ‘royal council’.

You had called for a council meeting today to raise your apprehension towards the new taxes imposed on your people. Needless to say, the meeting went terribly. Now you truly understood Seokjin’s distress after council meetings. And to think that was just the first agenda you had for the day. Just when you thought things couldn’t possibly get worse than speaking with selfish men, a guard suddenly reports to you that a corner of the kitchen had caught fire and that some citizens had caused another riot at a neighboring village.

You were already nursing a nasty headache by the time you had finished lunch. After a particularly stressful day like such, you had decided to retire to bed earlier than usual, skipping supper and your afternoon agenda for your much-needed rest.

You wake up in a cold sweat, panting heavily as you abruptly sit up in your bed. Your eyes look around, taking in your surroundings. It was just a nightmare. You begin to sob, emotions rolling off you in waves.

“Guards!” you call weakly, hoping they will hear you through your sobs. A few more cries and a royal guard, Yunho bursts through the door. “Jungjeon-mama!” he calls as he takes in your distressed state, running towards your bed.

“Lee…Astron…Lee…” the words fade on your lips.

Jungkook is the last thing you see before blacking out.

When you wake, eyes adjusting to the lack of light in the room, you see Astonomer Lee reading a book on your left and Jungkook sleeping soundly on a bench to your right. “Jungjeon-mama,” Astronomer Lee’s voice is soft as he notices you’ve awakened. You attempt to sit up, but a raging headache is royally preventing you from doing so.

“Careful, Mama. The royal physician does not recommend you getting up from bed anytime soon. You need to rest.”

It’s just a mere headache, you contest inwardly, but for the sake of it, you stop yourself from voicing out your argument. Instead, you rest your weight on your elbows and ask for Minho’s assistance in placing the rest of your pillows behind your back to elevate your torso for more convenience.

Another snore escapes from the man on your right catching both your attention. Jungkook’s neck is precariously bent forward, his chin already touching his collarbones. “Minho, could you please…” the astronomer thankfully doesn’t require any further instruction, scuttling to the other side of your bed to help Jungkook lie down on the bench he’d fallen asleep on.

“The Captain had been fighting sleep ever since you fainted earlier tonight, scolding everyone that tried to tell him to get back to his quarters but the poor lad fell asleep the moment I got here.” Minho chuckles, adjusting Jungkook’s position on the bench. The latter reaches his hands out, arms swatting Minho away who’s currently struggling with his task.

“Must…queen…awake,” the younger one mumbles in broken sentences, still blindly pushing the struggling astronomer away. By the time Minho finally manages to lay the captain down, you’re already in tears, your hand clamped over your mouth to stifle your laughter despite the tiny whirlwind in your head.

The fatigued astronomer returns to his seat after completing the arduous task while you reach for the steaming cup of tea sat on your bedside table. You take a whiff, letting the steam reach and fill your nose with the aroma. Ah, Taehyung’s signature brew. The royal physician has relatives from the east that own a tea farm, so Taehyung gets his leaves delivered fresh from the city of agriculture and brews the tea himself – one which the palace keeps in abundance, due to its taste and medicinal benefits.

“You’ve called for me earlier, my queen?”

Minho’s question drowns out the thoughts in your head. “Ah, yes.” A cold shiver runs through your spine as you recall the reason why you woke earlier during the night. “I had quite the nightmare earlier…” you start, “…I was hoping seeking your counsel would ease me of my troubles.”

“I will try my best, Jungjeon-mama.”

“You have my gratitude, Astronomer Lee. But first, I must rise, for my stomach is complaining.”

“Jungjeon-mama. I can’t let you do that. Taehyung strongly insists that you rest, I-“ You look at him, unamused. He stops mid-sentence, knowing there was no point in trying to convince you to do otherwise. “Don’t play innocent now, Minho. As if you weren’t sneaking hangwa off our table when you said you were feeling unwell during the new lunar year celebration.” The scholar chokes on his tea at your comment. “Don’t worry, I’m glad you like my recipe,” you add as you pat him lightly on the shoulders, causing the young astronomer’s cheeks to redden.

“Wangbi, what about the captain?” Minho questions, pointing to the younger man who’s still snoring away happily, face squished against the wooden seat.

“He’ll be fine. Come on, a hungry queen is a grumpy queen.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be here, Mama.” Minho mumbles behind you, trying not to tug at the sleeves of your jeogori too hard. You both know he’s breaking royal protocol by touching you like this, albeit indirectly, but you don’t mind, not when his cowardice is starting to affect you as well, mumbling about tales of never-before-recorded creatures that lurk in the night.

You had forgotten to take a lamp with you at your haste to succumb to your hunger, and now you’re both suffering the consequences of your lack of preparedness. With darkness blanketed over the palace and the strong winds blowing, most of the candles inside the lampposts had burned out, only adding to your unnecessary fear. The thin fog surrounding the roofs of the hanoks were of no help either.

“Aren’t you supposed to be fond of the dark, ‘cause it’s when the stars are most visible?” You can feel Minho pursing his lips from behind you. “I only enjoy it when I’m actually outside in the field, or inside my office, with a lamp by my side,” the astronomer answers, pulling at your sleeve a little too hard when he hears a small noise nearby.

When you finally reach the kitchen, Minho breaths a sigh of relief, lighting up the nearby lamp by the entrance. As you raise the lamp to rack the shelves for a few snacks, you accidentally knock over cup from a low shelf, the contents pouring over an open teapot. “Oh!”

The astronomer jumps at the sound, quickly moving closer to you. “Mama! What was that? Do we have an intruder?” You calm him down, assuring him that there was nobody else in the kitchen. Having to lift the teapot as you wipe the spill, your nose catches on this certain aroma coming from the tiny vessel – a mixture that vaguely smells of Taehyung’s tea and…milk.

You bring the vessel closer to your nose this time, realizing that the pleasant smell was coming from the teapot. Brimming with curiosity, you grab the cup that toppled over and poured in a small amount of the concoction. Hoping that it tastes as good as it smells, you bring the cup to your mouth and try your accidentally discovery. You’re genuinely surprised at how it turned out to be, pouring more and sharing the same with Minho who’s already busy filling his mouth with biscuits.

As you both head out of the dark kitchen, snacks on one hand and drinks on the other, you both decide to rest by the steps of a neighboring hanok. The full moon seems brighter and bigger than usual – believed to be determinative of good luck, but you can’t ignore the unsettling feeling in your gut.

“What’s troubling you, Jungjeon-mama?”

“I had a nightmare earlier. It had the same full moon like tonight. Darkness has enveloped the whole palace, Seokjin and I were walking in our garden, just like the usual and as we were talking underneath the cherry tree, a snake slithers around a branch and suddenly attacks me. I don’t remember what happens after that but the next thing I knew Seokjin was in battle and for some reason I couldn’t come near him or help him at least, and somebody plunges a sword-“ You choke on a sob, inhaling deeply as you continue your narrative.

“And…and he looked so helpless, Minho.” Weeping, the astronomer gently rests your head against his shoulder, rubbing your back gently to calm you down. “My poor Seokjin…my husband,” it’s physically painful trying to breathe, like your heart is being tugged in all directions, crushed, and squeezed all at the same time. Your head betrays you one more time with a vivid image of your husband on the ground, lifeless.

You had taken your rest after your talk with Minho and decided to continue your even if it was already late in the afternoon, trying to push away the images of your dead husband before your eyes. You hear the doors slide open, the sound of wood scraping against wood ringing in your ears, the noise momentarily breaking you from concentration. Didn’t you just order the guards to keep the surroundings quiet? Or more specifically, to not let anyone in?

Paying your unexpected visitor no mind, you continue reading your husband’s past proclamations. “Wangbi.” You recognize the voice instantly. “Yes Captain? What sort of national emergency brings you here?” As much as you genuinely enjoy the company of your mysterious, newly-found acquaintance at the palace, you had plenty to catch up to due to Seokjin’s, hopefully, temporary absence.

You keep your eyes trained on the letters in front of you, still nescient of the captain’s proximity. “I must apologize for disappointing you, Jungjeon-mama, but my unlikely visit at this time of the night is not warranted by an emergency on a national level, but of a personal one.” His final words catch your attention, but you continue your reading. “And must I be the one to resolve your personal whims?” You look up from your work, eyes widening a little at the sight of the captain dressed in commoners’ clothes.

“I assure you, my queen. They are not my own.” What does he mean by that? Surely, he can’t mean you. You don’t have personal emergencies, do you?

“Should I presume your choice of clothing is related to this ‘personal emergency’?”

Jungkook says nothing, instead he grins widely in reply. He bends forward to pick something up and you crane your neck a little to see what he’s brought. In his hands is a silk pouch, golden dragons embroidered on the purple cloth. He places the same next to your desk. “What are you up to Jung?” You ask him, totally confused by his actions.

“Mama, it would do me a great honor if you could open the bag.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then the emergency won’t be going away anytime soon, and for all you know, it could turn into a national one.”

“Need I remind you that you’re speaking to your queen?”

“Exactly why I’m giving you the choice if you want to open the bag or not, Jungjeon-mama.”

Doesn’t seem like it. With the way he speaks of the pouch, it seems as if you don’t have that much of a choice. You narrow your eyes at him and revert them back to the pouch. “It’s getting late, Wangbi. I think it’s best for you to continue your reading tomorrow,” the captain adds a suggestion to his proposal, sliding the windows open to reveal the night sky dotted with stars.

“How am I supposed to know there is no animal inside?” He doesn’t answer one more time, just sending a toothy smile your way. You too are suppressing a grin, knowing you’re both reminiscing how just a few days ago, he’d successfully coaxed you into opening a box with a frog inside, shouting hysterically as the slimy animal jumps in your face as the whole class erupts in laughter at your reaction.

“Perhaps,” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, “But see for yourself, Mama – the sun has already set and the darkness of the night is upon us.” For once today, you finally agree with someone. Heaving a deep sigh, you set the scrolls aside for tomorrow and reach for the bag to place it on your desk.

Under Jungkook’s watchful eyes, you gingerly check the pouch – sniffing, poking, prodding, and attempting to hear what sort of object, or creature, might be inside. The captain resists the urge to laugh at how you warily pry the bag. His chest constricts at the sight, your childlike innocence this very moment too adorable for his heart. He hopes that this moment will last forever, that you find wonder in the simplest of things and rid yourself of the sadness clouding your heart.

You untie the knot with no hurry, fingers still holding the two ends of the cloth together just in case something from the inside tries to jump on you again. Once you deem it certain that no animal is inside, you gently open the package. Neatly folded commoners’ clothes similar to Jungkook’s choice of clothes are sitting inside the bag.

“What am I to do with this?” you ask, taking out the garments that are of the same colors as the captain’s.

“Uh, wear it perhaps?” The man retorts, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Now is not the time to fool me, Captain. I know what you’re supposed to do with clothes. Now, tell me why do I have to wear this?”

“Because we’re going to visit the city – your city!”

“Excuse me? Not at this time of the night! I still have-”

“Please, Jungjeon-mama? If I’m not mistaken, this was included in one of your plans anyway! And you really look like you need a break from taking over the king’s duties, on top of your own. I assure you; we will only be the two people who shall know of this!” He whispers the last words conspiratorially, like he’s telling you something that is tantamount to committing treason.

You can’t deny that he’s made a valid point. Now that you’re in charge of the whole palace, your responsibilities had doubled in number and you rarely had time to just take a breather, your days and nights spent working and attending to your duties. Without further encouragement from the captain, you push him out of the room, telling him that you have to change first.

Jungkook does a victory dance at your affirmation, swaying his hips from side to side as he scurries towards the door, reassuring you that he’ll be waiting outside and that you will not regret this choice. You sure hope you won’t.

With the amount of time you’ve spent with him recently, you had discovered plenty of things about the captain: that he has the eye for the arts, that he completely adores children, and that he is definitely one to think on impulse. Jungkook would do anything that suddenly pops up in his mind, regardless of what the outcome of his actions might be. You realize that was the defining trait that definitely makes Jungkook and Haesoo look great together.

Once you slide the doors open, the captain places a finger on his mouth, silently ordering you to stay quiet. You nod, following Jungkook as he walks on the tip of his toes, wincing when his next step makes the wood below him creak. He looks back at you with a funny face that almost made you laugh out loud, reprimanding him with a light slap on his arm, shushing him.

After having traversed almost halfway across the entire palace, you had one last hanok to cross before reaching Jungkook’s supposed ‘secret passage’ by the west gates. The captain peeks his head from a corner, checking any surrounding guards by the small open space while you rest your back against a lamppost.

“It’s clear, Mama.”

You join him where he’s stood, watching the same guards he’d been observing just now. With your shoulders almost touching, the captain is now fully conscious of your current proximity, his breathing getting shallower by the second. The captain hadn’t really expected you to say yes, and now that you’re here with him, he’s practically jumping in excitement, completely giddy at the fact that you’re spending time with him out of your official duties.

He’d initially meant to go with Haesoo tonight, but had lied to her that he’s been feeling unwell all day and wanted to get some good night’s rest. Now you’re here by his side, sneaking through the guards, as guilt eats at him for lying to such a sweet girl like Haesoo. What Jungkook won’t openly admit though is that spending time alone with you seems to alleviate the guilt he feels for his misdeed to another.

The captain glances sideways to glimpse at you. How is it that you always manage to be effortlessly beautiful? Even when you’re in your royal garments, in commoners’ clothes like tonight, or even without clothes, you always seem to have this aura that simply magnetizes people towards you, no matter what the time, place, or occasion may be.

He wasn’t – isn’t – supposed to develop feelings for you – not for a married woman, and especially not for the queen of Korea. This wasn’t part of the mission. He hadn’t gone through so much in the past just for his plans to ricochet at him like this. Was he really willing to throw away all those years of training just because his heart was always beating faster than usual around you?

Jungkook shakes his head as if to rid himself of his thoughts of self-doubt. He turns his head to look at you at look and puts a smile on his face. “Ready, Mama?” he reaches his hand out for you to take which you accept gladly as he informs you that you both had to run across the open square to reach the secret passage.

The captain gulps when you slip your soft, small hand into his. There’s a small part of him that suddenly regrets his offer, the small action seemingly seeping him further into the fatal void of his emotions. But, undeniably, there’s that larger part of his conscience that celebrates during moments like these with you – his heart triumphs once again.

He can’t fail this mission, not when he’s so close to finishing it. But the more he tries to concentrate, the more he falls and it’s so difficult to accomplish something when his heart and his brain are constantly at war with each other, even if they’re fighting over the same thing.

Jungkook counts to three and you two bolt from the corner of the hanok and run towards the trees. Halfway through the square, one of the guards catches you and orders you two to halt at once. “Quickly!” Jungkook whispers, giving you a hand with carrying your skirt so you could run faster. As the guard sprints after you, you run as fast as your feet could carry you until the both of you reach the bushes and hide beneath the thick shrubs.

The both of you hide beneath the shrubs, breathless. When the guard arrives at the spot he’d thought you two were supposed to be, he finds no traces of you or any other intruder lurking around, the guard goes back to his post. You let out a huge breath you don’t realize you’ve been holding back for so long.

When you realize you still had your hands intertwined with Jungkook, you release yourself from his grip gently, dismissing the awkwardness in the air with a small cough. You let yourself fall onto a nearby heap of leaves, letting out a breathy laugh. Jungkook soon joins you on the heap, laughing along.

“I haven’t run like that in such a long time!” you squeal, clapping your hands in excitement. Jungkook revels in your enthusiasm as he pushes himself from the heap. “Where to now?” As you finish dusting yourself off, Jungkook looks at you expectantly. “Please don’t tell me you’re planning for us to go over the wall.”

“I promise you, it’s safe, Jungjeon-mama.”

“How would you know that?! I don’t even see a ladder here for us to use!” Your shoulders slump and you slowly back away. “No, no, no, no! We’ll be fine!” reassures Jungkook, attempting to calm your agitation due to the literal obstacle in front of you.

“Wangbi, look, it’s not even that high, see?” The captain pushes his back against the wall and uses his hand to compare his height to the brick partition. There may be a relatively small difference, the wall being approximately a head higher than Jungkook, but the captain easily towers over you, so how exactly does he suppose you to reach all the way to the top?

You look at him like he’s eaten your expensive collection ceramic bowls for breakfast. Maybe he’s had too much milk tea to drink? You’d learned that he’s enjoyed your newly-discovered concoction way more than others in the palace. Perhaps the mixture didn’t yield as much benefits as you initially thought it was? You make a mental note to lessen the frequency of the production of your specialty drink.

You think this through one last time. All this trouble would have been for nothing if you’ll decide retire to your room now. Plus, you badly wanted to see the Chuseok preparations going on outside the palace. You let your fingers rub heavily against your forehead, weighing the possible outcome of sneaking out of the palace in the middle of the night.

You take one look at Jungkook, who’s silently pleading you to continue your journey with his titillating doe-like eyes, then you let your eyes linger over to the wall and what sort of sight it might hide beneath it. You let out an exasperated sigh, knowing that the captain has once again triumphed in dragging you to his acts of impulsiveness.

“Captain Jung Jungkook, you will be the death of me.”

The captain claps his hands with an intense amount of vigor at your statement. He doesn’t falter even with the look of aggravation on your face. You gasp inwardly, maybe he found out where you hid your secret vessel of makgeolli in the kitchen and drank it all for himself! That little bast-

“Come on now, I’ll lift you up.” Jungkook laces his fingers together, hands forming a makeshift pedestal for you to step on. He lowers his knees for your convenience and bows curtly, gesturing you to come closer.

Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you ease a foot onto his woven hands. He lifts you up with no trouble and you latch onto the top of the wall, swinging your legs over one at a time, eventually perching yourself on top of the brick panel. “See that wasn’t so hard after all, right Mama?” Jungkook should be grateful he doesn’t see you roll your eyes.

Jungkook, on the other hand, agile body and all, practically springs from the ground and hooks his hands easily on the wall, jumps over the partition and lands gracefully on the other side with ease. “How did you manage to do that?!” Your still at awe at his dexterity, eyes wide at the realization that he’d done such a strenuous feat without exerting much effort. “Tell me, Jung Jungkook, were you a thief at some point in your life? A bandit perhaps?”

The captain chortles at your sudden judgment. “No, I wasn’t, Mama. But you’d have a lot of training when you live in a pala-“Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, “w-when you live in a place where there are plenty of walls to climb over.” He’s grateful when you don’t notice the slip in his words. “Now what do I do?” You tap your fingers at your thighs, anxious about what might happen next. You look around. There doesn’t seem to be some spot soft enough for you to land on.

“Jump. I’ll catch you, Jungjeon-mama.”

Once again, you find yourself questioning your life decisions. Perhaps you were the one who had too much milk tea to drink? You’ve never even tried, not even once, tried sneaking out of the palace like this before and now here you were, a grown, married woman, climbing over a wall at nighttime like it’s some daily chore.

As you push yourself off the brick wall, a villager shouts something in your direction, making Jungkook look away from you the same time you jump. You instantly close your eyes in fear, yelling out the captain’s name as you fall.

When Jungkook manages to catch you in his arms, you recite prayers of gratitude to your ancestors for having blessed Jungkook with vigilance, that is, until he falls backward, losing his stepping on a small stone with your startling leap, the sound of his back hitting the ground muffled by the soil beneath him.

As you pry your eyes open, you find out your face is almost touching his. The captain’s usually inquisitive face is contorted into one of grimace because of the pain. You shamelessly take advantage of this opportunity to gawk at the faded scar that sparked your curiosity more than you can admit.

You shuffle on your feet as the proximity of your faces finally dawns on you, your faces so near to each other that you feel his warm breathing fanning your cheeks. “Sorry, Jungkook,” you blurted out, sitting on your knees as you gently shake him by the shoulders.

Panic arises from you when he doesn’t budge at your prodding, especially now that you’re shaking his body with a reasonable amount of fervor, your eyes already brimming with tears. You don’t see his chest moving, nor do you feel any breathing under his nose or mouth. He couldn’t possibly have died from that could he?! Checking your surroundings, you look for something that might have caused damage during his landing. “Jungkook! Wake up, please!” you let your head fall to his chest as you feel a single droplet of tear roll down your cheek.

“Aww, are those tears for me, Mama?” the captain coos, eyes twinkling with mirth under the moonlight.

Your head shoots up in surprise. “Y-yes!” you stammer out, trying not to show any other expression other than annoyance on your face. “And for the record, those were tears of joy because I thought the only person in this world who makes me do the most ridiculous things has finally breathed his last!”

Instead of being threatened by your indignation, he doubles in laughter, body quaking as he does. You quietly stand there watching him, and soon enough when the captain notices your silence, he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth to stop his amusement. He shuffles to his feet and bows from his waist. “My deepest apologies, Jungjeon-mama. I did not mean to worry you.”

When he looks up, he sees your face just as stoic as your stance, guilt eats at him and he starts to fidget with his fingers. “If- if you’d like to go back-“

“Ha!” Jungkook jumps at your exclamation, your hands clasped together in delight. “How does it like being fooled now, hmm?” he pouts at the sight of your face, your perfectly shaped brow taunting him as he bows again.

“You’re scary, Jungjeon-mama,” the captain grumbles, kicking at a few fallen leaves.

“And so I’ve been told. Come on now! You’ve still got plenty to show me, and the night is still young!” As you tug on his sleeves, the smile that etches on Jungkook’s face is as warm as his heart, your eagerness way to infectious for him to ignore your pleas.

The two of you wander through the streets of the village just outside the capitol’s palace, in awe of the hustle and bustle of the villagers’ Chuseok preparations. Well, you for the most part. The captain had just discovered that this was you first time to witness festival preparations outside the palace. He isn’t surprised though, as he knew each city’s palace is equally as busy as yours during the festival, so he hadn’t wondered how you had never gotten out during the festivities.

Your facial expressions are nothing short of wonder, Jungkook notices, as you practically marvel at everything, like a little girl seeing a doll for the first time. The captain trails behind you silently as you move from one side of the dirt road to the other. You occasionally bump into some villagers on the way who complain about your walking, which unnecessarily alerts the captain side of Jungkook, ready to fight anyone who dare messes with the queen, with his queen.

Jungkook watches as a halmeoni merchant’s stall catches your eyes, orbs widening in marvel when you take a closer look at the accessories she’s put on display on a table. The old lady watches Jungkook’s eyes trained on you fill in with adoration as you check nearly every single piece of hairpin on the rickety piece of wood. She wants to coo at the sight, but she doesn’t want to ruin the moment, so she quietly beckons Jungkook to come closer.

She reaches a slightly shaky hand out, gesturing for the captain to give her his palm. She hands him an earth-colored hairpin with a pink flower situated on top. “Give this to her,” she whispers, voice trembling as much as her hand. “To whom?” the young man replies, looking around for the girl the old lady is pertaining to.

“Silly boy,” she extends a hand and pinches his ear, “to her, of course, the girl you love over there,” the old lady motions to you, who’s still busy being enamored by the jade hairpins. “O-oh, we…we’re not…” the halmeoni dismisses him with a wave. “Go on now.”

As the captain takes a step towards you, you turn around, showing him the green hairpin you’ve clipped beside your ear. “Kookie! How does it look?”

He’s momentarily stunned at your nickname you’d called him – a nickname he’s been called exclusively by one person only during his childhood – the same person who’s calling him Kookie tonight, even with the number of years that had passed.

“Kook-“ your words falter as you see the hairpin the captain holds in his hands, captivated by its beauty. “It’s a carnation,” the old lady points out nodding her head towards the accessory you’ve now taken from Jungkook’s grasp. She continues speaking, “they say it’s the queen’s favorite flowers and…” her voice comes down to a whisper, “…rumor has it that the king has tended a garden full of carnations just for her, what a truly lovely man the king is… but don’t tell anyone that!”

Your chest constricts at the mention of your husband, whose presence you yearn for the most. You wish he was here to witness the festivities outside the palace not as royalty but as commoners, just like you and Jungkook tonight.

“It’s beautiful, halmeoni,” you say, touching the pink carnation settled on top of the pin. “Take it, please.” The old lady offers but you decline, telling her that you didn’t bring any coins with you as payment. Jungkook reaches for a few from the pouch tied to his pants but the old lady won’t have it, insisting that she give it to you for free.

“You’ve got the face and the heart of queen, young lady. Take it as a gift from one grandmother to her beautiful grandchild.”

Giving her a bow of gratitude in return for her kind words and the lovely gift, the captain helps you attach the hairpin on your head. The both of you greet the halmeoni with a happy Chuseok and she responds with her own best wishes for the both of you.

As you walk away from her stall, Jungkook notices the loneliness lingering in your eyes. He won’t allow you to be sad now, not when he’s brought you here to be the opposite, so he speaks up, avoiding touching the subject of your husband to mollify your emotions.

“So…Kookie?”

“Oh sorry about that. I just thought it would have been strange if I called you Captain, or Jung…” That he understood, Jungkook doesn’t know what could have possibly turned out of a situation where you blew both your covers.

“But Kookie?”

“I…It’s just that you remind of a friend I had during my childhood who was called that, or at least, that’s what I called him. You know, it’s strange that I actually never knew his real name, or who his family was, or where he truly lived. We had met in the woods once when I got lost trying to follow a butterfly and he helped me back to the palace that afternoon. All I knew was that he told me to call him Kookie, so there’s that,” you shrug as you glimpse at Jungkook, whose facial expression looks like he warrants more explanation.

“Since then, Kookie and I would meet at the same spot he’d found me during the afternoon and we would talk, or rather, I would talk and Kookie would just listen to me talk. On other days we would just play until the court ladies would call me back and we’d have to part ways again.”

“Ah, he was a good listener and a good friend too…Kookie. One day, he just didn’t show up, and I waited there in our old spot the whole day. But he never came, nor did he arrive on the next day, or the day after that. I miss him sometimes, you know? I miss having friends. Occasionally, I wonder how he’s doing, what he’s grown up to be, if he has a family, or children even! It’s a shame really that I never really got to know his real name… for all we know, he could’ve been a Jungkook too, or a Jikook, or a Taekook, or a Namkook, or a Yoonkook!” Jungkook laughs at your endless combinations. “Ah, if I only knew his name, I would have already invited him over for supper at the palace…”

The captain nods absentmindedly, your sentiments reeling in his mind. You were there that day, you waited for him. The captain wanted to sing in joy. In fact, he even more elated that you remember. You remember him. He thinks to himself, ‘Oh Jungjeon-mama, Kookie is closer to you than you will have ever imagined.’

Exhaling as you rest your head against the edge of the pool, you move your focus from the task at hand to the wooden ceiling. You miss Seokjin terribly. It’s been far too long without his touch.

Whether it be a quick relief from the stresses that root from ruling a nation, or sensual moments of intimacies like the night before he’d left, you had a particularly sexually active lifestyle with Seokjin and now with your husband away, the reality of his absence has finally taken its toll on you. You used to wonder how your husband had his libido up and running no matter what the occasion, but he’d always counter with you being far too desirable to resist his primal urges. Now that he’s away, your struggling with the thoughts of missing Seokjin, and dealing with an even greater struggle of trying to pleasure yourself.

With another exhale, you close your eyes as you sink your torso farther down where you’re seated on the pool steps. Your fingers find the sensitive nether bud between your legs, imagining it was Seokjin’s fingers ghosting over your body and not yours. When his face comes into view beneath your closed eyelids, you slide your hands across your chest, your palms knead the supple flesh of your breast. You let the hardened nub of your nipple get tweaked and twisted between your two fingers.

Once again, the royal captain finds himself in another compromising situation. He doesn’t know how long he’s been hiding behind the post with your back facing him, his eyes watching your third failed attempt today at pleasuring yourself.

Earlier this afternoon, as you had retired to your bedroom to take some rest, he heard a moan slip from within. He thought he was mistaken by another questionable noise and tried to shake it off, thinking that his hearing might’ve inevitably worsened after watching over the royal band that rehearsed in the palace’s square the day before. However, as another whimper reached his ears, he knew he wasn’t mistaken this time around, so he ordered the guards situated inside the hanok to do their rounds outside.

Unfortunately, he knew his orders were called a little bit too late as Chaeyoung slides your doors open just as he was about to stop her, and they had both found you on your bed, the covers lazily draped across your body as your hands worked between your spread legs. The pair poorly averted their gazes as Jungkook scurries to close the doors at your orders.

The captain remains still as he watches you from behind. Even with your back facing him, he can vividly picture out what you look like right now, as if he’d just been taken back to the night he watched with sick fascination you and Seokjin in middle of lovemaking. He badly wants to help you with your predicament – the king’s parting words ringing in his head.

“Captain Jung?” Seokjin calls out to the younger man, who’s busy with the final checks on the straps of the saddle atop the king’s white steed.

“Jeonha?”

“Come walk with me.”

The captain is confused by the king’s sudden call for his presence but he complies nonetheless. Seokjin takes a few steps forward, waiting for Jungkook. When the latter catches up, Seokjin begins talking, glancing sideways at the captain.

“I am leaving the security of the capitol in your hands, Captain Jung. I expect that you will protect the city with your life, just like I have. During these trying times, the country needs a protector – someone who will give them security even when nothing is seemingly going right.”

“Yes, Jeonha. You have my word.”

“Also, I knew you were there, you know.”

“Jeonha?” The captain repeats, baffled by the king’s words, absolutely clueless as to what the king was pertaining to. “I knew you were there last night, Jungkook. Outside our room.” The captain visibly pales at Seokjin’s statement, but the former keeps his silence as he racks his brain for an appropriate response. Seokjin hears Jungkook’s profuse apologies next, penitence evident in the captain’s every mention of ‘sorry’.

“I admire the genuineness behind your confession. And that’s why I need you to do one more thing.”

“Anything you ask of, my King.”

“I need you to take care of my wife.”

“Of course, Jeonha.”

“No, no… What I mean is I need you to be there for her. This journey I have to take…it’s too risky, too much peril is involved in this mission that I honestly don’t think I’ll make it out alive.” Seokjin feels lighter at his confession, like some heavy weight has been taken off his shoulders.

“I need you to be there when she needs someone to talk to, when she needs someone to eat with, when she needs an honest opinion on something, when she needs me. My wife… she is very headstrong and independent – traits that I admire most about our queen. But at the end of the day, behind the façade of her unwillingness to yield to anything that is possibly beyond her control, she is but my wife – a woman who needs her husband, just as much as I need her.”

“I know you and I both share the same degree of affection towards _______.” Jungkook opens his mouth to speak, but Seokjin beats him to it. “Understand that I am one with your emotions. It’s alright. I am but a man too, you know, after you strip off the crown and the royal garments,” the king remarks, “Surely, you witnessed that too last night. Must’ve been a spectacle,” Seokjin adds, letting out a small whistle, without forgetting to attach a roguish wink at the end of his sentence towards Jungkook, who shies under the older man’s gaze.

“Sorry for my lack of formalities, Jungkook. It must be my wife’s secret stash of makgeolli speaking, but don’t tell her that! I was asking a personal favor from you anyways, from one friend to another. So… will you comply with my request?”

“O-Of course, my King. I’ll do my best, but please understand that I have no intentions of interfering with your relationship. The queen is a married woman after all…I mean…she’s married to you, Jeonha! I couldn’t possibly compare myself to what you have provided for her.” Jungkook is still unable to grasp the absurdity of it all. Yes, nearly every word the King said is without a doubt laced with nothing but the truth. But he still doesn’t understand what the King trust him with such great task.

Does Seokjin even know who he truly is?

Sure, the king is well aware of his feelings towards you, but was that enough? Does Seokjin trust him that much? If Seokjin only knew who he truly was, would the king even let him stand in the same room as his wife? Let alone attend to her…private needs?

“The moment I had planned of this journey, I had already accepted the consequences of what I am to do. I understand, and she will eventually understand. She always does.”

The captain continues contemplating behind the post. This is wrong, on so many levels. He isn’t even supposed to be in the royal baths now, but the rumored news he had just heard from an informant absolutely warrants your attention. At the same time, he feels a strong calling to help you with your present helplessness. Rumors be damned.

Jungkook takes a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“Can I help you with anything, Mama?” Jungkook is relieved as his voice comes out less shaky than he anticipated.

You’re shocked beyond belief at the voice that comes from behind you, nearly losing your footing on the pool steps. “Jungkook! What are you doing here?!” You pant, covering your chest even if they’re barely visible under your milk bath. Regret fills you as you stare at your forlorn robe, too far away to sheath yourself with at least an ounce of modesty.

Jungkook stills, unsure what to retort. He’s meant to bring you rumors of an informant from outside the palace, but now, it seems as if his initial task was long forgotten. ‘It can wait,’ he thinks to himself, your welfare is always his priority. “I-uh. I was doing my rounds…and I heard the water splashing inside… so I had to check.”

Shame floods through you. Fortunately for you, the captain doesn’t see you liken to the shade of a tomato. You’re unsure what pushes you to pour out your emotions to the captain – whether it be the fact that the captain has earned your trust that you’re comfortable enough to be completely honest with him, or that you are left with no other choice but to tell the truth as to why you’ve decided to spend your night in the royal baths. You could care less at this point, whatever the reason might have been, because the words are already spilling out of your mouth.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Jungkook. I am beyond agitated – in fact, I think I have been since my husband’s leave. And on top of that I miss Seokjin. I really do, and it’s not just the kind of feeling that you can temporarily disregard by preoccupying yourself with other things, its…I…I miss him so much because I need him, Jungkook. Now it’s all the more frustrating because the only way I know how to instantaneously relieve myself isn’t working either because like I said… I, I need my husband.”

“Use me then Mama, for your own pleasure. Imagine I am the king, imagine me as your husband,” he pleads.

“What?! I-I can’t ask that of you Captain, that is beyond your royal duties.”

“I’m not asking, I’m offering you my assistance… as a friend, as someone who genuinely wants you to help you relieve yourself of your stresses even just for a short while.”

You sit there silent, contemplating. You hate how he always catches you off guard, easily pointing out the truth that you thought you wonderfully hide. Sitting up straighter, skeptical at the thought of this proposal, you turn around to face Jungkook. “Doesn’t this seem strange to you?”

“Jungjeon-mama, it’s only strange if you think about it that way. I really just want to help you. If you desire so, I can just leave now and forget this ever happened,” Jungkook offers and you already hear him standing from where he’s seated.

“No!” you yell abruptly, taking Jungkook by surprise. Well you didn’t explicitly say ‘yes’ but your answer wasn’t exactly a disapproval of his offer, was it?

“How are we supposed to do this then?” Your voice is small, if he’s not mistaken, he could tell you’re slightly embarrassed because of the whole situation. Jungkook’s mind goes blank. Then again, he really wasn’t expecting you to agree.

“Uh… I guess I could guide you through it? I… I don’t have to go there, I won’t even look at you, I’ll just stay here…while I uh, talk you through it?” The captain inwardly cringes at himself, grimacing at how much he’d stammered at such a short period of time.

“Are you sure about that…”

“Yes, I’m okay-”

“I meant, are you sure you’re going to stay there the whole time?”

The captain’s eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. What? Are you implying that he move somewhere he can see you? Were you even aware of what you’re saying? Jungkook tries to reassure you and himself that he’ll gladly stay back, watching you from behind. Besides, he doesn’t even know how you’ll react if you make him move nearer and you’ll eventually realize that he’s already half-hard just imagining you naked. Jungkook hums in approval.

“Okay, show me how you touch yourself, Mama.”

“But you can’t see me?”

“I’ll be fine, I can see your arms moving from here. I’ll just try to imagine what you’re doing…” ‘That sounded awful,’ Jungkook thinks, biting his fist at the realization of him not being articulate enough.

“O-okay,” comes your answer as you sink yourself lower on the pool. He sees your arms create tiny ripples on the water with your movements. Perhaps, this wasn’t so bad, after all.

“Imagine it’s the King massaging your breasts slowly as he cups your cunt with his other hand.” Jungkook sees you comply instantly, good girl. He sees you sink even further as you enjoy yourself, soft whimpers escaping your lips. “Now, play with your clit, Mama, slowly rub it in circles with your fingers.” The captain’s chest swells with pride as your head slightly lolls backwards until you suddenly sit up straight again, this time looking at him straight in the eye.

“I can’t Jungkook…this is too difficult. You have to be here.”

Jungkook nearly falls off his seat.

“Mama- I…”

“Take off your clothes, Captain and get your butt here in the pool with me.” Jungkook gets rid of his clothes with the same sense of urgency laced with your words. “Quickly, before I’ll have you dismissed from the royal guards.” You let him undress for a moment, fidgeting with your fingers as you wait for him on the pool steps.

“I’m here, Mama.” Turning to face him, Jungkook takes notice of your bloodshot eyes. He delicately wipes a tear that rolls down your cheek. The gentle action spurs you to hug the captain, the frustration coming off as tears pouring out of your eyes.

He attempts to ignore the fact that your chest is blatantly pressing against his, your pert nipples cold against his torso. Jungkook likewise wonders if you’re aware of his fully erect dick now, which is painfully and uncomfortably wedged between your bodies. You both stay like that for a moment, relaxing in each other’s arms, or just you – at least, from Jungkook’s perspective. There are already beads of sweat glistening on his forehead despite the cold breeze that entered through an open window.

Ever so gently, he presses a light kiss on your forehead, then on your cheeks and on your nose. “Are you okay, Mama?” the concerned captain asks as you silently rest your head against his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” You nod, pushing him forward and making him sit on the steps of the pool.

You pull his thighs apart, making room for you to sit on the meaty muscle. As you lower yourself on his thigh, Jungkook lets out a breathy exhale, feeling your core hot and wet against his skin. His hands shoot out to grab at your hips as he squeezes you lightly, desperate to confirm to himself that this isn’t just the loveliest dream – that you aren’t seated on his lap, gloriously naked as a newborn baby.

He wants to kiss you like this, to show you how beautiful you are, how strong his feelings are just for you. But he controls himself, as you’d probably reserve those lips for your husband alone, and he’s willing to wait it out, as long as you’re comfortable and you don’t feel pressured to do it.

His large hands are warm against your cool skin, gaze steely as you grind yourself against his thighs desperately. He gropes the supple flesh of your breasts, rolling your already hardened nipples between his fingers. Jungkook gives them a pinch before enclosing one in his mouth, tongue swirling all over your areola. Your hands reach up to tug frantically at his hair. “Ah Jungkook, please…”

Jungkook nips at the skin by the valley of your breasts, lips moving south to more time to take one of your tits inside his mouth while he keeps his hand busy kneading the other. “You’re so wet, Mama. And it’s not because of your bath is it?” He observes, swiping his fingers against your folds, shallowly dipping two and removing them from your cunt. “Please call me ________.”

Jungkook slides two fingers inside of you without warning and you quickly clasp a hand over your mouth, letting out a whimper. He lets out a low groan at the sound, clearly just as aroused as you are. He sped up his fingers, circling your swollen clit with his thumb. As your hips jerk, you feel yourself slowly sliding forward, your core coming in contact with his cock. Your thighs tremble at the sensation.

You’re so close, finally! Letting out a satisfied exhale, you urge Jungkook to go even faster as you arch your back, shamelessly undulating your hips on his fingers. You hear Jungkook whisper praises on your skin as you cum on his fingers, squeezing and pulsing around his digits. As you pant heavily, you let your head fall onto his shoulder. You hiss as he pulls his fingers out and trail them across your back, before situating them on your back and pulling you into a hug.

Jungkook unabashedly ogles your tits, completely mesmerized by how they slightly jiggle as you breath. He takes one of your breast in his mouth again, while the other gets groped and abused by his hand. As you squirm beneath him, he suckles on the skin for a moment, teasing you even further. He pulls away with a pop and tilts his head, grinning at you. “Use your words, my queen. I need to know what you want, what you truly need.”

“I need you.” Jungkook nearly sings in elation, heart soaring as he hears the words escape your lips.

“I’m all yours, _______. Take me.”

With his arms shifting underneath the water, you figure Jungkook has taken his cock in his hand, jerking it off a little before adjusting his seating. He lets the hard flesh press against your core, making you gasp at the contact. His eyes fall close as he slowly rubs himself back and forth the wetness of your folds, catching his bottom lip between his teeth at the feeling.

Getting impatient with his incessant teasing, you take hold of his cock and position it near your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock slowly, mouth falling open at the burning stretch of being breached after quite some time. “You…feel…so…good,” Jungkook says breathily as your pussy squeezes every inch of him until he bottoms out.

You grab him on his shoulders for support, your arms entwining around his neck as you let your fingers get tangled in his hair. You raise yourself until only the tip of his cock is left between your folds and you sink back down onto it with a long, loud moan.

It had proven to be quite the challenge to fuck in the pool because of the water resistance, but with Jungkook’s equally fervent desire to give you your release, his hips start moving in a steady rhythm, matching yours. You were getting close, but not enough to reach your high.

“Kook, gods…floor now.”

“Can I, ______?” Jungkook asks, dark eyes looking at you almost pleadingly. He places the tip of his cock at your entrance, pausing as he gazes at you one more time. You squeeze his arm beside your head that has you caged beneath him. Jungkook lets out an exhale, grabbing onto your hipbones and slamming inside you without further warning. He fucks you relentlessly, thrusting so deep that your body is jolting forward, his cock hitting your cervix with every snap of his hips. Just then you realized, the water in the pool was clearly holding him back.

His pace doesn’t waver even with his breathing getting more ragged by the second. “Fuck, you feel so good, _______.” He lifts himself, stretching his elbows out to take a good look at you. Jungkook had never thought he’d be able to get blessed again with such a sight. You’re mewling beneath him, his name repeatedly falling off your swollen lips like a prayer. His eyes get trained on your breasts one more time, watching them jiggle with every thrust he makes. The sight only makes him pound into you harder than before, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking on the hardened bud.

You’re already far too gone to care about the cold wind hitting your skin or the slight burn of your skin sliding against the wooden floor as Jungkook fucks you against it. With your orgasm building up for the second time tonight, you push your hips upward, angling yourself so he hits that sweet spot inside you with each movement of his hips.

“Come on, Mama,” Jungkook encourages through gritted teeth, all too aware that his own high is coming to him at breakneck speed, but he collects himself, holding on until you cum first. Your relief is his priority. He slides his fingers between your bodies and finds your nether bud. That seems to do the job. As he continues to rub at your clit, your moans get louder and this time Jungkook is glad that you no longer attempt to hold in your cries, carelessly mewling out the sounds of your passion. Your whole body convulses as your orgasm washes over you.

The captain follows suit, cock going rock hard inside you as he spills his release and throws his head back, grabbing onto your hips and groaning louder than you’ve ever heard him before. You let him ride out his high with a few more thrusts, watching his face contort into pleasure. Wincing as he pulls out, Jungkook falls to your side, panting just as heavily as you are.

“Thank you, Jungkook.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Jungjeon-mama.”

You can’t sleep, again. But this time, it’s not because of your own doing. You hear horses neighing and a few yells here and there. There’s something going on outside – a commotion, one which only seems to get worse as you hear the guards attempt to keep the noise at the minimum at this ungodly hour.

Grabbing your robe from the dresser, you tiredly rub at your eyes as you head out of your room. You spot Yunho looking out from the windows of your hanok. “What’s going on? Why is there so much noise?” Dragging your feet across the wooden floor, you walk sluggishly towards the guard who bows curtly to acknowledge your presence but returns his vision to the ruckus below.

“It seems we have a visitor, Jungjeon-mama. Please continue your resting, we will take care of this.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m already awake,” you respond, joining him by the window. As you squint your eyes to see better, an all-too-familiar emblem printed on a handheld flag standing tall and proud, seemingly waving at you as the wind blows.

“Jungjeon-mama!” Yunho calls out as you rush outside. His calls fall into deaf ears, letting your feet carry you down the stairs and towards the palace gates. You’re getting a sick feeling from their unexpected arrival, their presence not settling properly in your gut.

The royal guards get in your way, attempting to stop you from taking another step nearer your visitors. “Mama, please get back to your room.” Jungkook steps forward, shielding you from seeing your unexpected guests. “Move, Captain. It’s only right for the lady of the house to greet her guests herself. So make way, Jungkook. Don’t make me tell you twice.” Jungkook lets out an exhale, hesitating on his actions. He makes a small step sideways, and you look at him. “Do you not trust me?” The captain looks away and takes a larger step to your right, making way, but not before getting closer as he whispers in your ear, “They’re dangerous, Mama. It’s them I don’t trust. Just give me a sign and I’ll behead this man in one strike.”

You nod in agreement, thankful that his bravery seems to add up to the courage you’re lacking at this very moment. You haven’t had a proper look at your guests and now that you do, you’re taken aback by the mop of blonde hair that catches your eyes, the man’s hair unusually matching that of his horse’s.

The man with the pale-yellowish hair alights from his horse, your eyes trained on his every movement. He nods to one of his guards to take care of his steed. Was this man a foreigner? From overseas perhaps? But why does he hold the emblem of the south with him? Had history already repeated itself? You’re starting to get a headache with the number of questions swirling in your head right now, all of which are answered when the man finally looks at you.

“Yoongi?”

You’re rendered speechless. You’re well aware that the present king of the south has a scar on his face, inflicted by none other than Minseok, who had paid for the facial wound with his life, but you never thought it would be this…terrible. The wound is healing, but the scar cutting through his right eyebrow until his cheek was an injury too deep to heal fully. That you knew all too well with the similar mark you have on your side from your childhood.

You gulp, taking another step forward. “What are you and your men doing here?”

“Ah, Jungjeon-mama, surely that’s not how the capitol greets its guests?” You maintain your glare but the present king of the south looks the least bit unfazed. “Don’t worry, my Queen, the pleasure is all mine.” Jungkook was about to wield his sword when Yoongi takes one of your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss at the back of your palm.

You’re startled by the gesture, quickly withdrawing your hand and wiping it discreetly against your robe. “I’m going to ask you again, Yoongi. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi huffs, glancing sideways, “Fine, since you asked so nicely. We’re here to celebrate Chuseok.”

“It’s not until a few more days.”

“Is there anything wrong about arriving a little earlier than expected?”

“Don’t you have your own city to celebrate with, and take care of?”

“The queen is always in charge of the celebrations. But you already knew that. Besides, it’s not unusual to visit your friends during the festival, right? Especially when a southerner is celebrating all by herself in such a big palace.”

Both ticked and apprehended at his words, you clench your jaw as you decide. Yoongi isn’t entirely wrong; the festival isn’t an exclusive commemoration of your ancestors, but it is also considered a time of communal gathering – one celebrated with your families, distant relatives, and friends.

Albeit you and Yoongi don’t share the type of friendship that he implied, it had also been tradition for royalties to visit each other’s cities during Chuseok, but the prideful south was never really one to partake in dealing with simple ethics. On top of that, it was considered bad luck to refuse guests during festivities, especially one as big as Chuseok. And you wouldn’t want to push your luck, not when Yoongi’s arrival is enough bad luck as it is.

“Yunho,” you call, taking your eyes off Yoongi, “ready our guests’ hanok.”

The king gives you a lopsided smirk in return. You turn on your heel after that, unable to take any more of his presence. Yoongi nears Jungkook who maintains his steel gaze at the unexpected visitor and says lowly,

“Pleasant to see you again after so long…brother.”

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author-morgan · 3 years

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Deliverance † Arthur Morgan

Two: Eastbound and Down Chapter Summary: With renewed strength and the weather finally clearing, the gang ride down from the mountains, meaning to set up camp somewhere the weather is warmer. Masterlist

COLTER IS AN old mining town buried in the snow of the West Grizzlies and where the Van der Linde gang has made camp for now. It's freezing and Pearson, among others, isn't happy there's another mouth to worry about feeding. They'd lost Jennie and Davey but already replaced them with three new hungry bellies —Sadie Adler, Kieran Duffy, and now Lilian Cornwall.

"Here" —Arthur holds out a tin cup of watery venison stew as he kneels next to the fireplace— "ain't much but can't have you witherin' away." Unable to hide the rumble of her stomach, Lilian takes the stew, gingerly nursing the bland broth and watching as Arthur stokes the fire 'fore adding another warped piece of lumber.

Dry wood crackling in the hearth permeates the tense silence until the shrill howl of the cold wind starts back up, whipping at the door of the small cabin and under the tin roof. Lilian Cornwall glimpses the stern look on Arthur Morgan's rugged face as he stares into the dancing flames from under the brim of a worn gambler's hat. His lips set into a harsh line half-hidden behind the unkempt beginnings of a beard and blue-green eyes shining with flecks of gold from the fire and lanterns. Sitting aside the empty cup, Lilian brings her knees up to her chest, shrinking into the torn and stained fustian coat.

The warmth is chased away by the cabin door swinging open —snow skitters across the uneven floor with a great gust of wind. "Dutch," Arthur greets, gaze tracking the gang's leader as he moves fireside, peeling off a pair of thick leather gloves and righting an upturned stool. He sits with a flourish, pushing back the hem of his thick, black winter coat and stretches his hands out toward the fire. With an audible sigh, Dutch Van der Linde turns his attention to Lilian Cornwall.

Her pensive stare reminds him of the card in his pocket. Bill had been so kind as to offer it up after getting back to the camp. The portrait is already a few years old, three or four if memory serves her right —they curled her dark hair and placed a crown of white lilies upon her head. Rising Stars, a collection of young entrepreneurs and doe-eyed beauties sure to make it far. Lilian Cornwall made card number twelve. Dutch tosses the cigarette card down between her and Arthur, lips curving into a smile.

"How is our Lily doing?" It's a saccharine question with no sincerity. She spares a glance but does not reply —silence is answer enough. "Don't worry, Miss Cornwall. We're jus' biding our time until the moment's right."

Once the weather cleared, they'd pick up camp again —no one wanted to linger up here longer than needed, and it'd put more distance between them and Blackwater. She watches Arthur pick up the card, turning it over to see the list of names in the collection. "Then you'll let me go?" The question is meek. Lilian doesn't like feeling helpless or sounding so weak —she is a Cornwall. Her name alone commands respect and authority. She's the same woman who'd secured over six thousand dollars in new investors for Cornwall Kerosene and Tar within the past week, successful in her own right. But Dutch Van der Linde makes her feel uneasy, more so than the rest of his rabble of outlaws.

"Of course," he grins with something lurking in that unsettling smile —the first cracks of madness shining through, unseen by those closest to him but clear to Lily. "Of course, my dear." It's meant as reassurance, but a knot forms in her stomach, a growing realization she might never leave. Dutch rises, stretching his back and slipping his black riding gloves back on. He stands by the fire for a moment longer, warming his aging bones before going back to his Irish rose. "See that she don't freeze, Mr. Morgan," he says from the door, flooding the small cabin with the frozen night air again.

Lilian shivers, in part from the cold, but mostly because of Dutch Van der Linde. Arthur hangs his head with a nigh silent sigh. He's not one for words —never has been— and he knows Lilian Cornwall won't believe anything he says any more than she believes an outlaw will keep his word. When he glimpses her again, she's staring into the fire with a blank expression, tears sliding down her rosy cheeks.

Arthur brings a patchwork quilt from one of the side rooms, draping it around her before sitting back near the fire. He knows they've messed up big this time —knows Hosea will agree with him on that— but Dutch has a plan, and he doubts anyone will be able to talk him out of it. The Van der Linde gang's luck seems to be changing, but Arthur can't say now whether it's for better or worse. Lilian shifts, watching as he takes off his worn hat and rakes one of his hands through his hair —only a few shades lighter than her own. "Won't be too much longer 'fore we can get out of here," he says, voice a low rasp and laced with exhaustion —the last weeks were more than enough to make sleep hard to come by.

HE HAS SILVER hair and a kind smile, introducing himself as Hosea Matthews in the early hours of the morning. The sun should be on the rise, but the snow clouds haven't broken yet, and a cold wind still whips down the main road of the abandoned mining town and at the tin roofs and windows. Hosea makes himself comfortable next to the fire, bringing up a chair. "Coffee?" He offers a cup to Lilian, and she takes it with a nod, glad to have the warmth in her hands if nothing else.

She takes a sip, the bitterness catching her off guard —twisting her nose and lips when her face scrunches up. Hosea chuckles, though it turns to a fit of coughing. The cold air only made his lungs ache and cough worse. Arthur appears from one of the side rooms and claps him on the back, the fit subsides, and his smile returns. "Used to cream and sugar?" He asks, remembering how sweet and watered down some rich folk took their tea and coffee.

"Two sugars and a splash of milk," Lilian answers —the same way her father took his coffee, just enough to dull the bitter taste, but not so much you forgot it was a cup of coffee. There's little to speak of, but Hosea is decent company, offering to play a game of cribbage or war if only to take her mind off the circumstances, especially given Arthur's absence.

The next morning, there's a break in the snow and the first glimpse of blue skies anyone has seen in weeks. It's time to make a move and get out of Grizzlies, though instead of pushing west, the only way left to go is east, into New Hanover. Lilian wakes to a ruckus of creaking wagon wheels, shouts, and nickering horses. Arthur and Hosea mentioned heading out soon last night, but neither thought the weather would clear so quickly.

Sitting up, she runs a hand over her face, lingering by the dying embers of the fire for a while longer. Folding the quilt, she drapes it around her shoulders, stepping out into the brisk air, watching as the Van der Linde gang work with practiced haste —breaking camp and packing it away into a line of wagons on the main road. For now, she's invisible, likely for the best.

Arthur Morgan is standing off to the side of the wagon line, brushing the mane of a silver Turkoman. He doesn't notice Lilian until she stretches out a hand, stroking Silver Dollar's neck, up to his withers, admiring the fine beast. Arthur hides his surprise under the brim of his hat —most of the gang's horses didn't take kindly to others in the camp, let alone a stranger. "Where are we going?"

Given her position, she doesn't expect a response, at least not an honest one, but his lips twitch upward, and his gaze darts to her. "Warmer weather, I hope," Arthur remarks —not quite remembering what Hosea called the place in New Hanover. He leads the Turkoman to one of the wagons, securing him to the tongue next to a bay roan Ardennes.

Hosea lays a hand on Lilian's shoulder, gesturing to the last wagon of the caravan. It's time to clear out of Colter and leave the frozen hellscape of the West Grizzlies behind. "Why don't you ride with Arthur and I, Miss Cornwall?" He suggests, leading her to the rear of the wagon where Arthur is loading the last of the crates. "Think you'll find us to be better company than most of this lot."

Arthur shakes his head to keep from laughing, he knows when Hosea is making jokes at his own chagrin. "Didn't know you thought so highly of me, Hosea." The old man laughs, patting Arthur on the shoulder —their smiles and mirth contagious. Lilian hides a fleeting smile behind the quilt's edge, noting something oddly endearing about these two outlaws. Hosea secures the last crate, circling the wagon to clamber up into the seat. Arthur offers his hand, helping Lilian up and over some of the crates and rolls of canvas to a space nestled behind the seat. "Good?" He asks, and she nods, knowing she'll at least be a little better once they're out of the mountains.

The wagon lurches forward when Arthur snaps the reins to the two draft horses, and with a cautious pace, they clear Colter and turn southward, trudging through knee-deep snow down the mountain and past frozen lakes. Then the snow begins to clear down path, and the sun feels warmer than it had before. Hosea shifts in the wagon seat, looking back where a forlorn young lady sits, watching the trees pass with a distant, empty look in her eyes. He knows it's only a rouse —he'd seen the fear in her eyes and the tearstains on her cheeks. If Dutch had only listened, maybe they could be heading west. Instead, the Van der Linde gang is eastbound with only a handful of rail bonds and the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the country. "I'm sorry, my dear" —he reaches for her hand with a sad smile— "I really am."

#Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x OC #Arthur Morgan Fanfiction #Arthur Morgan Fanfic #RDR2 Fanfic #RDR2 Fanfiction #RDR2 #Red Dead Redemption 2 #story: Deliverance #my writing

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newtafterdark · 4 years

Text

Taste of Metal - Chapter 7: Between Pancakes and Digital Islands

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/65487961

Summary: What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him?

But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the “Metalhead Gordon AU”

- - -

Gordon slowly came back to consciousness after several hours of dreamless sleep, searching for his glasses around him with barely opened eyes.

He felt his sore muscles protest, screaming at him to just lay still on the futon beside Tommy, Darnold and Sunkist… and honestly, that sounded very inviting.

His hand finally found his glasses and he put them on with a slightly shaky hand.

Yeah, at this point there was no denying that his body was slowly catching up with the stress, now that he was no longer in imminent danger.

He propped himself slowly up with his intact arm, letting himself wake up at a casual pace as he looked around the room, checking on his new roommates.

Tommy, Darnold and Sunkist were still out cold, cosy among kicked-off blankets and pillows, Tommy snoring away softly as he laid there, limbs spread out like a starfish and Sunkist curled up at his side.

Darold was laying half on top of Tommy, one arm resting gently on the man’s chest, his breathing calm and even.

Gordon tilted his head at them, smiling. The domesticity of the whole situation was a relief to his nerves. That, and Tommy and Darnold just looked absolutely adorable like this. Gordon shook his head, chuckling at himself and slowly got up to his feet.

“Yo, you up!”

Gordon, to his own surprise, didn’t jump at the noise of Benrey’s voice. What did catch him by surprise though, was where the voice was coming from-

“Yeah, Gordon's up… and you… uh… you’re okay up there?”

Benrey was sitting on top of Gordon’s storage closet, looking up from something in his hands.

“Yeah. Cool cosy watch spot. Got a pillow up here and everything--”

Squinting up with his still tired eyes, Gordon finally made out the thing Benrey was now showing to him.

“Is that my Nintendo Switch?”

“Whuh? Nah, that’s mine.”

“Benrey… just don’t delete my save files, okay?”

“...It’s really not yours, bro. Here, looksie-”

With that, he bent down, showing Gordon… an extremely scratched-up Switch with several glittery Lisa-Frank stickers on the back. Huh.

“Oh... Sorry, man. I really thought-”

Benrey just waved him off and leaned back up, his back resting against the wall above the closet.

“All good. Wanna have my friend code?”

Gordon thought it over. While he still felt a smidge of unease around Benrey… well, it couldn’t hurt trying to bond over video games with the guy while they were all living in Gordon’s apartment for the time being.

“Yeah, sure! Just want to check on everyone and get some breakfast ready before I do anything else. You… uh, stay cosy up… there?”

“Will do, Gordo.”, Benrey assured him, giving him a mock salute.

Gordon let out a snort at the sight and slowly made his way to the kitchen to check on the remaining members of the Science Team… and Tommy’s dad.

“Hello, Gordon!”

Gordon yawned and gave the trio at his small kitchen table an apologetic smile.

“Mornin’. Sorry, am still exhausted as fuck… you all good though? Sleep-wise and all that?”

“Better than any night at Black Mesa… but Let me tell you- you sound like a damn foghorn when you snore!”, Bubby teased with a smirk, his feet resting on the table and his arms behind his head.

Gordon turned red at that.

“It’s n-not that bad!”

“Oh, it absolutely was, my good bitch!”, Coomer assured him with a smile- “But in a way we could all appreciate!”

“It was almost… like a small concert, Mr Freeman. Between you, Tommy and... Benrey.”, G-Man added, smirking a bit before he took a sip from the mug in his hand.

Gordon blinked at the sight of the mug, his thought process derailed from thinking about his snore habits back to what he wanted to do the kitchen in the first place-

“Oh shit! Breakfast! Do I even-”

“I took it upon myself to refill your kitchen with… appropriate nutrients. If you… stand by wanting to house everyone for a while, I assumed it would make the first few days easier on you.” said G-Man, setting his mug down.

“Y-Yeah… it- it absolutely does! Thanks, man!”, Gordon let out a flustered chuckle.

“I do want to... let you know though that I will not remain here. While I… appreciate your eager hospitality… I have... business to take care of. Regarding the state of Black Mesa… and what my employers were able to assess since our departure from the facility yesterday. I… do not like being “out of the loop”, so to speak. ”

G-Man reached down the side of his chair and pulled his suitcase up, setting it on the table and opening it, facing it away from everyone but himself. He pulled out a few papers and handed them to Gordon.

“While I am gone… for the time being… do give this to Tommy. He will know what to do with it.”

Gordon looked down and scanned the pages, Bubby and Coomer leaning over curiously to catch a glance as well.-

“...”Approval for ”Pocket-Dimension Expansion of Limited Space”? What-”

But when Gordon looked up, G-Man was gone.

“What a show-off.”, Bubby huffed and crossed his arms.

“Now Bubby, everyone should be allowed to show off their powers now and then!”, Coomer reminded the man, then stood up- “Now, do you need any assistance with preparing a hearty breakfast, Gordon?”

“Huh?... Oh! Oh yeah!”

Setting the papers on the table, for now, Gordon moved over to the fridge to assess what they had to work with-

“Man… okay, Wow. G-Man didn’t fuck around… Yeah, we can go all out with a proper big breakfast, if you guys want!”

Bubby made his way over to look over Gordon’s shoulder and let out a huff-

“I don’t even know what half of all this junk is, but I guess we have enough to come up with something edible.”

Gordon rolled his eyes at that, reaching inside the fridge to grab a carton of milk and handing it over to Bubby.

“Less doubting our cooking abilities, more helping me decide what we want to make, jackass.”, He said with a grin, sticking out a tongue at Bubby, then letting out a laugh.

Coomer beamed instantly at Gordon’s playful retort, while Bubby was standing frozen in place for a second in shock but eventually allowed himself a chuckle.

- - -

Several minutes later, the trio was joined by Benrey… who admitted outright that the smell from the kitchen had been too good to ignore.

Gordon puffed up his chest a bit in pride, while he was in the process of frying pancakes… then smirked as an idea came to mind.

“Hey, Benrey?”

“Yo?”, the guard looked over in slight confusion.

“Wanna see a gamer strat?”

“Whu-”

Gordon lifted the pan from the stovetop, his grip on its handle firm- and made a short forward-backwards movement, angled slightly up- which made the pancake flip in the air before it landed perfectly in Gordon’s pan once more.

…

There was absolute silence in the kitchen for a moment.

…

“YOOOOOOOOOOOO~!!!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“I didn’t know you were trained in advanced cooking techniques, Gordon!”

Gordon looked over his shoulder with a bright smile.

“I taught myself a bunch of them actually! Mostly from watching friends and family and then trying them on my own until I got them right! In a way… I guess I trained myself for this moment.“, Gordon mused, humming slightly as he adjusted where he was resting his still sensitive stump against his body.

Before any of the others got a word in, he went on-

“... and for previous moments like this. Ain’t the first time I only had one working hand to work with! I broke this arm so many times in the past, at this point I am almost used to barely using it....”

Gordon finished setting the last pancake on the stack, set the pan down and turned around.

“Still… I am already thankful that you want to make me a prosthetic, Dr Coomer.”

The older scientist pulled Gordon into a gentle side hug.

“Again, it’s the least I can do, Gordon. Bubby also offered his assistance! Not to mention Benrey!”

Gordon blinked and looked over to the two people in question.

“R-Really?”

“Look, we were dumb shits who didn’t know the bastards would pull this bullshit on your physical body. Doesn’t make it better… but you know. Already said my two cents about it last night… but yes, the least I can do is help build a hand that is even better than your original one.”, Bubby said over cutting strawberries and bananas into slices.

Gordon accepted that with a grateful nod before he felt a slight pull on his t-shirt sleeve. Looking down, he was faced with Benrey, hands still holding his Switch and looking anywhere but at Gordon.

“You good, Benrey?” The man before him remained silent, but then lifted his Switch up for Gordon to see.

“Look, please? While I try to pick the right words? ”

“Y-Yeah…? Sure, man…”, Gordon said as he gently took the console from Benrey, leaning it against his stump so he wouldn’t drop it and using his intact hand to move the joystick and push buttons.

It turned out Benrey was playing “Animal Crossing: New Horizons”. Gordon had the game himself but hadn’t had the time to play it properly between the recurring jobs from Black Mesa and other freelance programming work.

He looked at the scratched screen, the game already running and the player character, Benrey’s little villager, standing in what appeared to be a huge field of blue windflowers… and trees that had star pieces handing on them. Of course, Benrey would be the type to mod his game.

While Gordon moved the character through the flowers, occasionally stopping at a few furniture items Benrey had placed- he had a full rainbow squad of monster statues lining the left beach- Benrey began to talk.

“The… uh… the selling you out to the boots thing was a dumb strat. Dummy brain didn’t think anything would happen IRL. Thought it would be a funny moment in the game, ‘cause it would just respawn… but then it didn’t. A-And then Coolatta Senior found you after we got out and-”

Slowly, the blue windflowers made way for pink tulips… only to be followed up by orange roses. A sea of them stretching over the island… this must have taken Benrey hours to create...

“- you know I like being an ass. it’s FUN! But only when… w-when we can laugh about it? And we can’t laugh about this… so… shit’s fucked. You don’t gotta be all like “I don’t hold that shit against you”. I know you already said that but… uh… I’m still sorry. Was real shitty of me… so I’m gonna help the doc’s with your new hand.”

Finally, Gordon reached the end of the island, where he found two big star pieces sitting in the sand… with a sign behind them, reading- [> Restart?].

He looked up, brows slightly furrowed. After a moment of silence, he set the console gently down on the table.

Benrey looked increasingly nervous, until-

“Benrey.”

“y-yeah, what’s up, br- HURGH!”

Gordon had pulled the slightly smaller man into the tightest hug he could muster and Benrey positively melted into the touch, wrapping his arms around Gordon carefully in return. He got an assuring squeeze and found the confidence to give a slight squeeze back, relieved Sweet Voice spilling freely out of his mouth, earning him a few chuckles from Coomer and Bubby in the background.

Gordon eventually pulled back, his hand remaining on Benrey’s shoulder, said man instantly hiccuping out a bright pink orb at how the taller man was looking at him.

Benrey had never been good at reading human expressions… but whatever Gordon’s face was doing, it made him feel warm and safe inside.

“Alright, you one-of-a-kind cryptic bastard-”

Gordon took a step back and extended his hand towards Benrey.

“Gordon Martini Freeman. Human. Graduated MIT with a doctorate in Theoretical Physics and currently a Freelance Programmer.”

Benrey didn’t even hesitate a millisecond as he grabbed Gordon’s hand-

“Benrey Lover. Xenian. Black Mesa Security Guard and now...uh... full-time gamer?”

Gordon smiled brightly at him.

“Nice to meet you, Benrey.”

Benrey nodded, a hint of what could be described as their first proper smile on their lips.

“Samesies, Gordon.”

#metalhead gordon au #hlvrai #gordon feetman #hlvrai gordon #benrey #tommy coolatta #hlvrai darnold #hlvrai coomer #hlvrai bubby #hlvrai gman #hlvrai sunkist #metalhead gordon #fanfic #fanfics

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witchsblackfox · 5 years

Text

Escape to The Circus

~Her Day Out~

Summary: What would you do when you can't sleep? You dance, duh.

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

Dick's cellphone glared 00:30 at him making him wish he was in bed more. "Why couldn't criminals just deal with their murders during the day." He murmured to himself before walking over to the body. Commissioner Hendricks stood there with the medical examiner, Felix, barely touching it.

"What did you find Felix?" Dick says, kneeling down with him.

"It appears this kid lost his life to a fight. Nothing different to read cause as anything else." Felix says annoyed with finding nothing new.

"So we're looking at just a fight gone wrong. Do you think it is connected to the last street kid body three weeks ago.?" Dick asked bringing back his suspicion to the commissioner.

"You're not still thinking the circus is doing this. Dick we have been over this. Unless they came out before the body was found, it is not possible to be them." Hendricks collected and stern voice pierced Dick's comment like a sword. "Unless you have proof to accuse them with, look into who is doing these fights." She stomps off towards her car and drive off. Dick was more annoyed with her than ever now. The body laid face first in the pavement full of glass. The examiner carefully flipped the body over finding it being a young girl no more than a teen covered in bruises, face cut up by either the fight or the shattered glass.

"I'll have to take this into the morgue and examine further." Felix grabbed the body bag and instructed an officer to help him place the body inside without causing further tampering. Dick rubbed his head as Damian walked over.

"Well fuck." His hair was a mess from changing his clothes in his car on the way to the scene. "I guess I'll have to visit the morgue to look at the body. Interesting place to put this one though." Dick nodded then began to look around the area for any clue. Damian followed, annoyed with this whole thing.

"I think this is a set up. Regardless what Hendricks things." Damian hasn't gotten used to the idea of this annoying female being the new commissioner.

"Well, Hendricks still thinks we are crazy. Unless we provide proof we need to focus on these kids. Meet you back at the precinct in an hour?" Damian nodded taking in as much details as possible of the surrounding.

øøøø

Marinette had fallen asleep not long after Cole had walked her over to her tent. She insisted she was alright and asked to be alone. Cole wanted to stay but accepted her request, ze kissed her head and walked back to the main tent. Mari's head was burning so much from pain she took her pain killer then laid down curling under the blanket as tight as possible. The moon was half in the sky when she woke up. She climbed out of bed with so much energy her wasn't feeling any pain surging though her body. With clothed changed and flats on her feet, Mari picked up her satchel and walked out of the grounds. She had no sense of direction or any idea to why, but she just wanted to go up. She searched the buildings in the district she walked in first, looking for any inspiration to use for her drawing or routine. None volunteered input so she set off to walk further. Unbeknownst to her Mari walked down crime alley finding a building with fire escapes leading to the roof. She looked around the alley for something to climb up and settled on a dumpster.

She moved the dumpster under the escape latter and climbed up being as quiet as possible to not wake anyone as she went to the roof. She dropped her satchel beside a vent and took in the site. The city looked beautiful at night. The moon sat over a small building heading down to set what seems to be a few hours before the sun comes. The stars barely seen looks far and distant yet still glorious to see. With only the moon shining down on the roof she stood on, she slide out her Ipod from her bag and turned it on playing "Hurry up and Save me." by Tiffany Giardina and started to dance.

The sun rose, shining through the alleys exposing Mari dancing on the edge of the building walls. She engulfed the morning Sunday rays into her body enjoying the heat and feeling from it. When she finally stepped off the edge feeling the roof under her feet, tiredness and hunger demanded attention. She collects her things and quickly climbed down the fire escape and run out of the alley. The city looked different in the morning compared to the night lights that are scattered around the city streets.

Oh shoot. Where am I? She looked around hoping to find anything familiar to her but held no vail. Defeated she find a bench and pulls out her sketchbook, Mari flips through the book landing on the page of writings. It was the conversation with Selina. Mari looked it over finding a number and Tim's card beside each other. Maybe I could call Selina or Tim to help me find my way back. No...I'll just trouble them... She sighs and turn the pages to the next blank page. Shifting her hair over her right shoulder, she ties her hair back with a green ribbon had marking her place and start to draw. An hour passed, Mari just finished the details of her next costume idea when a woman with platinum blonde hair dipped in red walked up to her.

"Hello sweetheart." She spoke with a high Brooklyn accent dressed in jeans torn around the knees and a blue crop-top that says "Psycho on the run" across the breasts. "You're the new Kyle my kitty adopted right? Uh, Mari." Mari blinked then nodded slowly, closing her sketchbook and put it away.

'Kitty?' A small pain squeezed her heart when she asked. She forced the pain away then finished her question. 'You know Selina?' The blonde tilted her head slightly confused by what Mari signed and wrote on her hand "Selina?"

"Yes! I'm sorry, I don't understand Sign Language like she does. Heh, but I can take you to her. Come on!" Marinette hesitated then followed thinking the blonde would be upset if she didn't follow. The blonde lead her to a cherry red convertible, holding the door open for Mari to climb on in. Marinette sat in the passenger seat and the blonde jumped into the driver seat and started the car driving off like a bat out of hell across the city. Mari laughed enjoying the wind in her hair as letting her arm hang out the door. The blonde drove them into the Diamond District stopping in front of a little cafe with a yellow awning hanging over the outside patio. Selina was sitting in the outside seats by the window, looking focused in laptop when the blonde hollered from the driver seat.

"Kitty!" Selina's head shot up from her hand, looking around to find Mari and the blonde standing by road. "Look who I found!" She placed her hand on Mari's shoulder waving at Selina. Mari blushed looking down at her feet then gets dragged over to Selina's table. Selina stood up and hugged Mari quickly then ushered the women down at the table.

"Harley you shouldn't be dragging people around." Selina says pulling a menu out for Mari. "Mari have you eaten?" She shook her head and looked over the menu.

"I'm not hungry. Thanks for askin." Harley teased as she smirked toward Selina. "I found little miss sunshine here in Crime Alley drawing." Selina eyes widen then look over to Mari as she closed her laptop.

"What were you doing in Crime Alley Mari?" Mari stared at the menu deciding on an oatmeal then looked at Selina.

'I didn't know I was in Crime Alley.' She signed and looked toward her hands. 'I was actually up when the moon was still out until the sun rose over the tallest tower.' If Selina's eyes could bug out anymore, she'd look like a fly.

"Why? Are you insane to be out in this city?" Selina blurted out catching Harley off guard even. Mari shrugged.

'I woke up from and wanted to get away from the circus for a bit.' A waitress walked over asking if Harley and Mari decided on anything. Mari pointed at the oatmeal then pointed at varies of fruits to go with it. Harley shook her head saying "thank you" and the waitress walked away taking the menu with her. Selina had more to ask when Harley asked first.

"Sweetpea, question for ya." Mari looked over and blinks listening. "You had a cast before right? The first week you got here." Mari nodded slowly. "Where did it go?" Mari thought about her answer carefully, honestly trying to remember when it was removed then responded.

'Dr. Hamric said that it could come off in about a month or so. A few weeks already came and went, so my cast was allowed to be removed.' Marinette signed confidently. Selina and Harley gave a concerned look and pulled out a phone to check the calendar.

"Um, honey. You were in the cast for only two weeks, September 29th the doctor gave you a cast. It's only the 13th of October." Mari was racking her brain trying to find out where she added time to her memories but nothing seems to add up. Her head began to erupt a burning sensation causing Mari to silently whine as she rubbed her head. Mari ignored the concerned eyes as she dug into her satchel for her pain pills struggling to get the bottle open. Harley reached for the bottle, sliding it of her hand and opened it, handing Mari two pills then closed the bottle back up. Mari took the medicines and swallowed them down with the bottle of water from her bag.

The waitress showed up with Mari's oatmeal and milk then walked away after seeing the girl's head down. After a little bit, Mari lifted her head and smiled.

'Sorry, my head started to hurt.' Harley blinked then exchanged a look with Selina as Mari started to eat her breakfast.

"Mari, is this what Dr. Hamric prescribed you for your arm? Is it okay to use for your headaches?" Mari looks up, tilting her head then nodded. "Maybe I should give him a call and talk to him about it." Selina says looking over the bottle from Harley. Mari felt a tight pain in her stomach as she took in her fourth spoonful then quickly excused herself from the table running towards the bathroom.

øøøø

Selina read the bottle, reading it exactly as it's for. "Vicodin, take once a day and Tylenol every 4 hours if needed. Doesn't look like Mari is following the instructions."

"Do you think she's a user?" Harley asked raising a brow.

"No, but I do think we need to get her away from that Circus." Selina let out a sigh as she through the satchel. She found nothing but a small bottle of Tylenol, sketchbook, pencils, and a wallet with the initials MDC on it. "No phone." She takes the bottle from Harley and put it back into the satchel. Selina paid the bill as Mari returned to the table with a paper towel in her hand.

"Hey, want to go shopping? There is this amazing place in the Fashion District that has many high end stuff." Mari's eyes lit up from the words, "shopping" not catching the last part of the sentence getting up wrapping her satchel over her shoulder and stands there. Harley laughed then got up walking around to pat Mari on the back.

"I'll have to pass. I got an errand to run. You girls have fun!" And she was gone, hopping into her cherry convertible and sped off toward Old Gotham. Selina collected her thing and slung her purse over her left shoulder.

"Let's get going. We got to stop at my place first. Okay kitten?" Marinette gave her a soft smile and followed Selina to the edge of the sidewalk. She whistled calling a cab to stop just in front of them. Selina opens the cab door, had Mari slide in first, then she did, giving instructions on where to take them. The driver drives off, taking them to Robbinsville. The ride was a quiet one, Mari stared out of the window as Selina looked over her cell phone messages, texting the boys. As the cab came to a stop, Selina gave the cabbie the fee and took Mari by the hand pulling her out of the car and into a ten story building. The lobby was almost empty as She lead Mari into the elevator pressing number 7. Something was wrong with Marinette, Selina wasn't sure but she did look sick. Maybe the oatmeal was bad? She thought. The elevator came to a stop on the seventh floor opening up letting a hurried Mari run through it and breathe slowly. Oooooh... she's claustrophobic. Selina sighs relieved, then walks around her to unlock the door Mari stood by and opened it. She sat by Mari until she was relaxed and smiled.

"There you are. Come on in, its nice and open inside." Selina stood back up and opened motioned with her hand toward the open door. The apartment was definitely open, a backless book shelf stood between the living room and the dining room. A white couch sat in the middle of the room facing a flat screen tv that hung on the wall near the door. Another backless bookcase stood between the hall way entrance and the living room. Selina chuckled at a jaw dropped woman who was nearly touching the floor.

"Feel free to walk around. Make yourself at home. Bathroom is down the hall across from my bedroom and if you need anything please ask." Mari smiled softly and set her satchel by the table next to the front door. Selina sat on her couch, laying her phone and laptop down in place watching Marinette walk to the books first. She watched as Mari felt over the bindings, exploring her library of books. "Bad Boy" played from Selina's phone, receiving a small smile on her face before she answered.

"Hey Jason, what is it?" She gets up and walks out to the balcony closing the door behind her and talks. Mari decided on a book with a purple binding and gold embroidering, pulls it out and opens it. A photo slides out from the pages as she flipped through it.

øøøø

Mari was interested in the book until she looked down at the floor seeing the photo on the floor. Carefully she picked it up examining it. A small woman with chin length, dark blue hair and grey eyes wearing a white Chinese gown. A tall man towering over the woman had also dark hair soft blue eyes, and wearing a suit as another woman stood on the other side of him. Her hair was short like a bob-cut, wearing a slick floor length gown. The people in the photo felt very familiar to her as she sat on the floor trying to identify the photo. Marinette honey! I love you! Ow... What was that? She rests the photo on her lap listening to the photo again but nothing came. Selina stepped back in from the balcony muttering words to the receiver then hung up.

"Hey, you okay?" She walks over seeing what Mari was staring at. "Oh hey! That's my old friends and me. Where was that hiding?" She leans down and picks up the photo, then help Mari to her feet.

'Who are they?' Mari asks looking at the photo again.

"This one here, her name is Sabine Cheng she was my best friend since middle school. This strapping man is Bruce Wayne, you met him at the circus yesterday." Mari blinked looking more at the photo. "You kind of remind me of her. Anyways, go take a shower and I'll get you a set of clothes to wear. Go. Go." She smiled then shooed her off, as she disappeared into her bedroom. White and Silver bathed the bathroom with blue towels of two different shades and a dressed vanity of the make up and a toothbrush. Selina knocked on the door, opening it just enough to hand her a article of clothing and undergarments.

"I'll be in my room when you are done." She closes the door then leaves to get changed. Mari spent fifteen minutes washing in the shower then look over the clothing she was given. She put on a light blue romper, slight v-neck along her chest, with a see through train brushing her legs. Mari tosses her hair through the towel as she walks across the hall into the bedroom finding Selina brushing her long hair into a loose braid.

"Feel better?" Selina asked through the mirror then turn around to see her fully. "Wow, I'm jealous you look great! Let me do your hair!" She stood up and offered her seat to Mari. Marinette sat down, letting the towel fall into her lap as Selina took control of her hair. The feeling was gentle and relaxing, Selina ran her fingers in first then the brush as the blow dryer blew along her skin. Selina then took the curling iron and curled her hair at the ends followed with small twists after twists adding small colorful buretts.

"There, you look gorgeous." She smiled pressing her cheek next to Mari's. She blushed seeing the masterpiece that Selina did. Mari's eyes wondered in the mirror landing on the dark circles that surrounded her eyes and pouts. "What's wrong?" She points to her eyes and Selina smiles. " I got this." She reaches into her vanity and pull out a pale concealer along with a powder turning Mari to her and began adding dabs of color on her skin. After a couple minutes Selina turned her around, revealing a naked yet beautiful face. Wow..Not even stage makeup works.

"Alright, so I have the best shoes that will work for that outfit." Selina opened her closet filled with dresses and shirts, the floor was covered in boxes and shoes. She pulls out a pair of tan polyester boots, zipper on the inside of the feet and faux leather straps around the ankle. Mari smiles sliding them onto her feet admiring, then looks to Selina with an energetic squeal.

"Haha, alright, lets get going. Our friends are waiting." They walk to the door, grabbing their bags and leave.

øøøø

Dick held his pen over his lips as he listen to Damian go over the case.

"This has got to be a cover up. Our third street kid murdered." Damian hissed as he tossed the file down. "When will we get to investigate them?"

"Damian as much as I would love to do so, unless we have proof to blame them, we can't. Did you and Felix find anything on the latest kid?" Dick asked. Before Damian could respond Harley strolls on in, dropping a small bag holding two pills on their desk.

"Check these. Call my kitty when you're done." Then turned around and leave.

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

@wuvpancakes @18-fandoms-unite-08 @weird-pale-blonde-person @vivilakitty @novicevoice @northernbluetongue @luciferge @krispydefendorpolice @nomiegnome @persephonebutkore @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @magicalfirebird @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @dorkus-minimus @dur55 @disneyfoxuniverse @caffeinetheory @drarryismylife101 @shamefullove @yuulxd

#maribat #escape to the circus #mlb x dc #not soulmating :p #batfam

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 5 years

Text

Coach Bowden

Chapter Three: Handling a Legend

Featuring Coaching Legend Bobby Bowden

On friday, Oct 7, 2017, the day before our sixth game of the season at home against Ball State. I was doing my usual work out routine, jogging around the facility. I had done a few miles and into my cool down when I noticed that someone was in coach’s stadium office from my angle. I was little horny and I quickly went there thinking there might be a possibility of having sex with him. After I paused long enough so that I was breathing normally, I knocked and quickly opened coach Bowden’s office door.

“Hey coach, could we…” I said before realizing it wasn’t coach in his office.

To my surprise, it was his father, Bobby Bowden, sitting there in tan coat, tie and slacks giving me a once over. He was handsome, despite his age as I could see where coaches Terry and Jeff got most of their looks. The retired football coach seem to have perfectly combed steel grey hair. His complexion was rosy pink and I couldn’t help but notice that national championship ring on his weathered right hand.

"No sex today" I thought, but at least I get to meet a coaching legend and get an occasional sneak peak at his handsome features and crotch and provide myself with fodder for a late masturbation session.

“Hello, son.” The old man said with a smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Bowden.” I answered quickly as I walked over to him.

“Call me coach, son. If your looking for Terry, he got called away for something and not sure when he’ll be back.“ He added.

“I’ll come back later…” I said as I was about to turn around and leave.

“If you want. Why don’t you sit down and wait a bit for him.” He said as moved some newspapers aside.

“Sit down. I'm sure he'll be back soon.” He added patting the seat of the couch.

I quickly introduced myself, sat down and started asking questions about his career, building FSU into a national power with two national championships. As we sat there chanting, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. His genteel charm, quick wit and Southern drawl my heart flutter. He made me wanted to stretch out on the floor before him and spread my legs and have him fuck me. Like his two sons do. I sat there looking directly into his blue eyes and fantasize about him fucking me like I was his wife. And as sat there listening to him, the harder my dick got until I was squirming in my seat, wondering if he noticed my hard-on.

“Do you have a girl friend?” He suddenly asked, catching me off guard.

“No… just fuck buddies with some guys…“ I said before I could catch myself.

“Oh! I see.” The old man said, suddenly looking at me differently. His eyes were wide in disbelief as he remained silent for a long moment.

Then in a soft voice, he asked. “So you sleep with men?”

“Yes, Sir.” I admitted. Telling Bobby Bowden, a committed Christian who credits his success in football to his faith, about me being gay suddenly excited me more than I could have ever imagine.

“Yea?” The old man said as stared at me.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What kind of sex?” The old coach inquired in an almost quivering voice.

“I sucked the dick of a man that used to work for.” I admitted, thinking of both his sons.

Feeling bold, I placed my hand on his knee and he quickly uncrossed his leg though I kept contact, sliding my hand up and down his right leg. I was beginning to feel a bit nervous as Bobby looked me in the eyes for several long seconds. Not knowing what to expect from the old man, I let my hand swing out slight and touch him squarely in the crotch of his gray slacks. My hand felt what I was looking for; the hot rod, which I knew, was his cock. I ran my hand softly along the length then down along his balls.

The old coach mumbled something under his breath as I began to massage his dick and balls through the fabric of his slacks. I quickly grabbed the tab of his zipper, but was surprised again when coach Bowden didn’t attempt to stop me from unzipping his pants. I was rewarded with a pretty decent cock. It was about 7 inches, thick, veiny and most importantly, hard. I licked from the bottom of his shaft to the tip as he shuddered in pleasure. I took in his musky smell and it felt so erotic.

Coach Bowden gripped the arm and back of the leather couch as I slid my tongue up his cock. I slipped my lips over his manhood and went to work. I could feel the veins on his cock as my lips glided up and down. His salty precum hit my tongue and I looked up at him. His glazed over eyes told me everything I needed to know. I had him right where I wanted him. I moved my mouth over the top and with a pop, it sprang free from my lips. I slowly stroked his cock as I kissed my way down it. A moan escaped his mouth and I took that opportunity to ask, "Do you want me to stop?"

He moaned again as I continued to lick and stroke him before he shook his head no with another moan. Then still holding onto dick, I slipped off of the couch, knelt down between the old man’s legs and continued my oral assault on him. I sucked him off for everything it was worth. He built enough courage to lay a hand on my shoulder and then on my head. I fully expect coach Bowden to pull me off him, but the old man grabbed me behind the head and force my face against his crotch, driving his cock deeper down my throat.

“Dadgum it.” The old man mumbled between moans of pleasure as my hands slipped under his ass so I could take him deeper.

I let his cock hit the back of my throat a couple times to make that sound porn stars make in the videos. I found myself having to fight to keep from choking as the old man’s dick was too long and thick for me forcibly handle. But somehow I managed as I was determined to swallow it all. Once coach Bowden saw that I could take his entire dick, the old man started fucking my mouth as though he was fucking his wife. At least that’s what I thought when I looked up to his eyes closed and head tilted back moaning softly. He probably haven’t had many blow-jobs in his life, if any and I want to make this one memorable.

I released his cock from my mouth with a gasp and I jerked him off so I could catch my breathe. I was feeling real slutty. I looked at him and asked, "You're wife doesn't suck your cock like this does she."

He shook his head as I slapped his cock against my lips and then my tongue. I bobbed down again to get some of his precum in my mouth. I let his cock free of my mouth again and spat on it to lube it more as I stroked him.

"Do you like having your cock in my mouth," I asked. He nodded as he breathed heavily.

"Mmmm your cock tastes so good." I said as I kissed the pink velvety head and pressed my tongue in the opening of it.

“Good, Lord!” He said with a groan of pleasure.

I decided it was time to finish him off, so I started to suck and stroke his thick cock. I was going to milk this old bastard and leave him wanting more. My head bobbed as his moans got louder and louder. I felt the 7 inches of hot meat passing through my lips. The smell of musk and sex filled my senses and it was intoxicating. His hands gripped my shoulders as if he wanted me to stop but I wanted it. I wanted his cum. I wanted his satisfaction. He thrust his hip as he could no longer hold it in anymore.

Suddenly I tasted cum! The old man’s body started shaking as cum gushed into my mouth with a sizable load. I’ve swallowed many a load of cum, but damn if the old man’s wasn’t one of the biggest. I enjoyed it greatly as I continued to suck his cock. Coach Bowden slumped back into the couch, panting as if he'd just ran a marathon. With one last suck, his cock popped out of my mouth as I jumped to my feet.

While still in the thrall of his nut, I quickly pulled my dick out and started jacking it as fast as I could. When he noticed what I was doing, I expected him to turn away but he didn’t. He stood his ground and watched as I manipulated my hand back and forth over my dick. Knowing that he was watching me intensely, filled me with such excitement that I jacked my cock faster and faster.

Suddenly my entire body began to shake as I pumped my dick under the watchful eyes of coach Bowden. Cum shot straight up into the air. The first stream of cum mostly missed his face as jerked to the side and the next stream hit the couch. The last stream landed on the on the leg of his slacks and some on the old man’s loafers. It seemed like an eternity before I stopped ejaculating and the old man’s eyes were as wide as saucers. There was cum dripping from left side of his mouth and to my surprise, coach Bowden’s tongue slurped up the loose cum from around his mouth.

What followed was a brief awkward moment as watch coach Bowden, who wasn’t smiling, stuff his still half hard cock back into his pants. Thinking that now was to time to get my ass out of there, I quickly I forced my still hard dick back into my shorts.

“I think I’ll talk to coach later, Mr. Bowden.” I said in almost a whisper not knowing what was going to happen next.

“That’ll probably be best.” The old man said as he ran his fingers nervously through his grey hair.

“Thanks.” I said as I hurried out of the office.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

[Click here for next Chapter]

#Bobby Bowden #fan fiction #football coach #bowden fiction #Handling a Legend #Coach Bowden #college football coach #bowden fan fiction

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gukyi · 6 years

Text

raspberry truffles | ksj

summary: how to fake date your best friend: step one: don’t fall in love with them. failed step one.

[friends to lovers!au, fake dating!au}

pairing: seokjin x female reader word count: 5k genre: fluff warnings: obscene amounts of lindor truffle consumption, holiday mischief, seokjin being lovably obnoxious, the usual. a/n: hi. i know it’s been over a month since i last posted a fic. i hope this trashy fake dating drabble makes up for my absence. based on a true story. yes, this happened to me. well, most of it. please enjoy!

“Are you sure Taehyung’s gonna like it?” You ask, holding up the shirt in your hand with a look of skepticism. Seokjin had insisted that it was right up Taehyung’s alley—an obnoxious red heart pattern covering the entire article—but you’re not sure if he’s actually being genuine or duping you into getting a terrible gift for your mutual friend for his birthday. You’re not going to say it’s not Taehyung’s style, but you’re also not going say he’ll totally love it. It’s kind of a garish, kitsch shirt.

“Believe me, he will,” Seokjin says with the confidence of a talk show host. As if he is the all-knowing god of mutual friend’s birthday gifts. You know fully well that he had completely forgotten about Taehyung’s birthday until you texted him a couple of days ago to ask if he would come out shopping with you. “He’s into shit like that.”

You hold the shirt out in front of you to inspect it. “I don’t know, Taehyung seems more like an Urban Outfitters trinkets kind of guy to me. I feel like we should get him a giant Gudetama plushie or something instead,” you say hesitantly.

“That’s Namjoon,” Seokjin informs you pointedly, and automatically you have to agree. Namjoon looks like he’s waltzed out of the Urban Outfitter’s men’s section on the daily.

You feel around for your phone. “Should I text Jungkook and ask him what he thinks?”

“What? No way,” Seokjin says, hand already going to block you from getting your phone from your back pocket. You attempt to ignore the feeling of Seokjin’s large palm on your ass, but he hasn’t seemed to notice the compromising placement of his hand. Probably for the better. “Don’t ask Jungkook. He doesn’t know Taehyung like I do.”

“They’re dating,” you remind him.

“That’s exactly my point,” Seokjin says matter-of-factly. “Jungkook sees all things Taehyung-related through love goggles. Everything about Taehyung’s perfect to him. He’d be the worst person to ask. Trust me, I’m the best one. You’re in good hands. Don’t you have faith in me?”

“I almost never have faith in you, Jin,” you say as you approach one of the many checkout stands scattered around the Macy’s. True to the holiday season, the line is a good seven other patrons long. “You better be right. Hey, gimme one.”

You reach over into the bag hanging from Seokjin’s wrist, fingers rustling around for a chocolate.

For some unknown reason, the two of you consciously, willingly, and sober-ly bought two whole pounds worth of Lindt truffles from the store in the mall, and now you’re walking around gorging on them. You spent over twenty minutes picking out each individual flavor, taking your sweet time to inspect and select which ones would be the most vital to your growing collection. It may just be the worst purchase the two of you have ever made, and once Seokjin (under your supervision) spent actual money on a bicycle without any wheels from a garage sale in your neighborhood.

“The guy checking us out at the Lindt store probably thought we were insane,” you continue, pulling out a regular milk chocolate one and stuffing the entire thing into your mouth. You crumple up the wrapper and stuff it back into the back, to be dealt with later.

“He probably thought we had excellent taste in chocolate,” Seokjin corrects you proudly over a mouthful of chocolate. There’s a smudge of brown at the corner of his lips you’re dying to wipe off but because you enjoy when your best friend walks around like a fool, you make no mention of it. “Here, try a raspberry one.”

You reach out to grab the magenta-wrapped candy but he moves it out of your grasp in the blink of an eye, dangling it above your head like a demon with a couple of inches on you. He’s not that much taller than you, he’s just insufferable.

“Hey, fuck you,” you declare indignantly, reaching up to grab it. Seokjin goes so far as to stand on his tiptoes in the middle of the checkout line at Macy’s, unwrapping the chocolate with gentle fingers as he towers over you. “Fuckin’ Christ, Seokjin.”

“Open up,” Seokjin singsongs as he returns to his normal height, moving it back and forth over your lips like a mother bird feeding her babies worms as you angrily wrestle him for it.

“I’m not a two-year-old,” you grumble, but Seokjin is relentless and you can’t really do anything except indulge him. He seems so intent on feeding you and you want the chocolate enough for you to not wish to fight him for it.

“Come on, please?” Seokjin begs, puffing out his bottom lip as he slowly begins to lower the chocolate to your mouth. You roll your eyes, make a mental note to get him back for this later, and open your mouth obediently, letting your best friend smile contentedly as he drops the truffle onto your tongue.

“I hate you,” you inform him politely over a mouthful of chocolate.

“Yeah, yeah, I hate you too,” Seokjin says with a grin, his laughter warm and bright.

You and Seokjin pass the rest of the time waiting in the checkout line by going through his camera roll. At your most recent friend gathering, Jimin and Hoseok had snatched up Seokjin’s precious iPhone X and proceeded to spam his photos with various action shots all taken in quick succession. The joke’s on them, though, because Seokjin’s phone has 512 gigabytes worth of storage and now he’s got some prime blackmail material.

Eventually you reach the front of the checkout line, a kind-looking middle-aged woman standing there with the red Macy’s nametag pinned onto her shirt. Seokjin lingers back since it’s not his purchase, a couple of steps behind you as he fingers through the two-pound bag of chocolate the two of you bought together (why did you do that).

“Did he tell you to get this?” The lady asks you, motioning to Seokjin.

You sigh. “Unfortunately, yes. But it’s for a friend’s birthday,” you clarify, still a bit unsure as to whether or not Taehyung will actually like what you’ve gotten for him. It’s too late now. “Can I get a gift receipt with that?”

She nods, pressing on the computer screen in front of her before scanning the item. Behind you, you can hear the rustle of plastic, and you turn around to find Seokjin stuffing not one, but two whole Lindor truffles into his mouth at once.

“Hey! Hands off, Kim! We paid for those together, you know,” you scold, catching your best friend red-handed. Or, red-lipped would be the better term. He smiles sheepishly before chewing the chocolates already in his mouth, quickly swallowing down the offending food with a guilty grin.

“Men,” the clerk comments. At least she understands you.

“I know, right?” You say in response as she hands you your shopping bag and sends you on your merry way. You’re busy stuffing the receipt in your hands into your coat pocket as Seokjin links arms with you, leading you towards one of the many exits in this oversized department store.

“Hey, want another?” Seokjin asks, holding out a stracciatella truffle—your personal favorite—your way. You nod, letting Seokjin unwrap the chocolate and place it on your tongue as you head outside.

King Seokjin™ (7:47PM): Y/N King Seokjin™ (7:47PM): YOU’RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED King Seokjin™ (7:47PM): I’M FUCKING SPEECHLESS King Seokjin™ (7:47PM): FUCK IT I’M CALLING YOU

As you pick up your phone from the table beside you, the screen already alight from notifications, the device begins to vibrate in your hands as Seokjin’s contact photo—a picture you sniped of him mid-burrito bite—appears on screen.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Seokjin wails into the phone, making you jump slightly. Not that you’ve never picked up one of his calls and been met with just a shriek before, because you have. They just catch you off guard. You have the loudest best friend. “You’re never gonna believe what just happened to me!”

“Let me guess,” you interrupt. “You found a stray cat and now you’ve taken it into your house and named it Guacamole. Or you bought a Fender guitar at a yard sale for like, fifteen dollars and now you’re going to become a rock star. You invented a new cake recipe. Saw a twenty dollar bill on the sidewalk. Got signed to a modeling agency.”

Seokjin laughs, hearty and warm into the phone. “All good things, but no. This is better! Wilder! Crazier!”

“What could be crazier than you getting signed to a modeling agency?”

“First of all, fuck you,” Seokjin declares. “Gigi Hadid wants what I have. Second of all, no. I went back to Macy’s because my mom needed me to return one of those fancy expensive coats she bought because she said that the color makes her skin look green. Which, it does, so I’m glad she returned it.”

“Can you get on with this? Jungkook wants me to play him in Mariokart at eight,” you whine, knowing how long-winded Seokjin gets with his stories. He would make a fantastic stand-up comedian.

“Tell Jungkook he owes me two dollars and seven cents for eating three of the Lindt truffles that we got a couple of days ago,” Seokjin adds on. You are wholly unsurprised he calculated the exact amount. “Anyway, let me finish my story. Okay, so I went to Macy’s, right? And the same lady that checked you out for Tae’s shirt helped me return my mom’s coat. And I don’t know, maybe I looked sad or something, because she took one look at me and said, to my gorgeous face, mind you, ‘Oh, did she break up with you? You should have treated her better!’”

It feels like your mouth drops open in shock. Thank God this isn’t a video call.

“Wait, what?” You ask, sufficiently speechless. Did the Macy’s checkout lady really think the two of you were dating? It seems kind of laughable. Sure, Seokjin’s your best friend but you don’t know if the way you behave around him is similar to the way a couple would act. If at all.

“I know!” Seokjin exclaims. “And I didn’t know what the fuck to do so I just stood there awkwardly and nodded. This is slander.”

Before you’re about to ask why, your best friend barrels on.

“Like, how dare she think I make an inferior boyfriend? Excuse me? I would make the best boyfriend in the entire world,” Seokjin declares, as if he has any sort of scientific evidence to back up his claim. In all of his years of living, Seokjin has never been a boyfriend. A fact that shocks you most of the time when you think about it, because Seokjin is incredibly attractive and funny and kind and quite frankly, top-notch boyfriend material. “If we were dating I would treat you so fuckin’ well. Take you on dates to amusement parks and sacrifice my wellbeing by getting on the biggest rollercoasters with you. I’d buy you funnel cake and then I’d tell you that I can make it better. Then I’d make you better funnel cake. And I would pay for your meals only when you wanted me to, like when we split the cost for our two-pounds of Lindt chocolate. And I’d laugh at all of your jokes even though mine are superior in every way. I’d go to stores and see dumbass things that remind me of you and then I’d buy them and give them to you. I’d—”

“You sound really intent on proving this lady wrong, Jin,” you interrupt, Seokjin’s voice getting progressively more determined with every sentence. Like he’s going to change this lady’s mind. Like he’s going to just up and become the best boyfriend you could ever ask for all so he can tell the Macy’s checkout lady to suck it.

“Yeah, I am. I’ve been slandered against,” Seokjin says. You can practically see the furrow of his brows, the resolution lacing his features. “Don’t you agree, Y/N? If we were dating, I would be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

Your mouth opens to respond to him with some witty comment like you do with everything else he says, but your tongue is dry. Red alarms blare in your brain. Even if only for a second, you don’t like thinking about what it would be like to date Seokjin. Because you know—of course you fucking know, he’s your best friend, he’s been your best friend for so long, it’s as if you’re already—

“Christ,” you say, resting your head against your hands.

“You know what?” Seokjin keeps going, paying no attention to the resignation in your voice, the subdued tone of your words. “I’m gonna prove this lady wrong. Tomorrow, you’re coming to Macy’s with me and we’re gonna hold hands and I’m gonna be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“Tomorrow’s Tae’s birthday bash,” you remind him, the only thing you feel confident saying without your words betraying you.

“Cool. Even better. We’ll drop by Macy’s, tell that lady to suck it, and then we’ll just drive straight to Tae’s. Sound good?”

You don’t think you’d have the heart to say no to him even if you tried. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good. Good plan.” You think the conversation will end there when, “Be prepared to be swept off of your fucking feet tomorrow, Y/N. I’m gonna be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. The best boyfriend the world has ever seen. I’m gonna be so in love with you tomorrow, Y/N, you won’t know what’s hit you.”

The line goes dead.

The very first stop that you make when you and Seokjin return to the mall as part of his ridiculous, convoluted scheme to prove the Macy’s lady wrong is the Lindt store. It’s only natural—all roads lead to chocolate. That’s just how life works.

“Two pounds or one pound?” Seokjin asks as he plucks one of the plastic serve yourself bags from the shelf.

“Who do you take me for?” You respond with your eyebrows raised, as if to challenge him. Like you’d ever settle for anything less than the absolute most. “Two. Pour up, bitch.”

You and Seokjin slowly begin to pick out your desired chocolates, two of this one and four of those and ten of these—”Seokjin, what the fuck?”—as you make your way around the section of the Lindt store meant for losers like yourselves to waste away their day looking at truffle flavors. It’s a good thing that you and Seokjin have similar tastes when it comes to chocolates, because every time Seokjin motions for you to choose the next flavor you end up selecting one that you know he’ll like just as much as you.

“This didn’t seem as heavy the first time around,” Seokjin comments with his hands full as you march up to the register.

“Maybe you’ve gotten weaker,” you tease softly as you fumble for your wallet, operating under the assumption that you’ll split the cost like last time.

“No, it’s alright,” Seokjin says with a hand on top of yours, blocking you from opening your wallet.

“What? Seokjin—”

“Please? Come on, I gotta get in the boyfriend mood. Just this once, alright?” He pleads, puffing out his lower lip. Maybe you’d argue more if it weren’t for the way he asks you with such gentle eyes, or how he’s already gotten out his own wallet, or how he’s been swearing up and down that he’s going to be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had. You won’t take that away from him.

Besides, you’ve always been weak for him.

“Fine,” you huff out as Seokjin happily hands over his card to the guy behind the register, who looks like he doesn’t get paid enough to watch gross, overly-romantic couples be gross and overly romantic in front of him. Seokjin gives you the greasiest wink you think you’ve ever beared witness to, and with that the cashier hands you your purchase and bids you farewell.

By the time you’re rounding the corner into Macy’s, Seokjin’s expression has changed from that of chocolate-made satisfaction to pure, unadulterated determination, brows set and eyes hard. It sort of makes you laugh, the look on his face, because never have you seen him look so driven just to prove somebody wrong. The lady might not even be working today.

It’s weird, because even though the lady was last seen working in the men’s section on the first floor, as you enter through the second-floor entrance by the shoes, he grabs your hand. It is by no means romantic, not gentle or soft or delicate, but he grips your palm tightly and interlaces his fingers with yours purposely and it makes your breath hitch in your throat all the same. It’s not as though the two of you aren’t touchy with each other anyway, because you definitely are, but you’ve never held hands before. Not like this. Not in the dating way. Not in the way that feels like if Seokjin lets you go you’ll drift away, out of his reach.

Suddenly your hand is held tightly in his and for some reason, you aren’t looking forward to when he’ll let go. In fact, you’re rather dreading it.

You’re passing by the women’s sections, steps slow but meaningful, and Seokjin leans over to tell you to pick out something that you like and something that you’ll wear often.

“What, why?” You sputter out as he guides you through the racks of clothing, sections disheveled from the holiday season. Seokjin’s always had a good eye for style and particularly great taste, even if he does toe the line between fashionable and questionable every now and then.

“Well, first of all, it can be your Christmas gift,” he reasons jokingly, a finger gun accompanied by a wink pointed your way. “Second of all, we’ll need to buy something to have a valid excuse to approach the checkout line.”

“But I don’t—Seokjin, we stopped getting each other Christmas gifts a long time ago,” you remind him, the memory of the two of you deciding that buying material objects for each other wasn’t up to snuff for your relationship playing in your mind. And then, softly, “You know that your company is enough of a gift to me.”

He shrugs, pulling a soft pink sweater from a clothing rack, one that looks to be about his size rather than yours. “Well, then consider this one of those things that reminds me of you that I just had to buy you, alright?”

You end up in the same line you stood in several days ago with a pink sweater hanging from your arm. Seokjin makes sure that every time he pulls out a Lindor truffle from the bag he offers you one as well, unwrapping it with long, nimble fingers before placing it on your tongue.

“We should have just gotten Taehyung some chocolate,” you realize belatedly, staring down at the packet hanging from Seokjin’s wrist. It’s half-empty. Have you already eaten that many? “We wouldn’t even be in this predicament in the first place.”

“If we had gotten Taehyung some chocolate, Jungkook would eat it all,” Seokjin tells you, making you laugh. “And besides, I don’t really mind this. Being your boyfriend, or whatever. It’s fun.”

His words stun you into enough of a silence to last the rest of the journey up the line, up until there’s a single patron in front of you.

“This is a team effort, alright?” Seokjin says to you, grin spread wide on his face. “I know that you’re going to pale in comparison to my incredible talent and flawless boyfriend abilities—,” a laugh, “—but you gotta have your head in the game too, okay? I can’t do this without you.”

“This isn’t a soap opera, Jin,” you remind him softly.

“Yeah, well, it’s about to become one. And just in case you forgot, I love you, Y/N.” Your eyes widen at the sound of his voice, the words on the tip of his tongue—they are words you have heard leave his lips plenty of times before, but never in the way that they do now—but before you can react any further, the customer in front of you is moving out of the way and Seokjin is pressing his hot, wet lips to your cheek in a crushing side kiss.

The lady behind the checkout desk probably looks as shocked as you do.

“Just this?” She asks as you place the sweater down on the counter, too afraid to turn around to look at the expression on Seokjin’s face.

“Great taste, right?” Seokjin asks the lady, forcing you to look up at him. He’s got the biggest smile on his face, proud of his choice, your hand still held tightly in his. You’re almost positive the lady can’t see it from her position behind the counter. “Picked it out myself.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, it’s not that exciting,” you reprimand lightly, hoping the comment is enough to warrant girlfriend behavior. Whatever that is.

“You wound me, Y/N,” Seokjin says with a hand to his heart, feigning injury. “Move over, I need to get to the card scanner.”

You scoot over complacently, allowing Seokjin to purchase the item with a swipe of his card. When the price appears on the little screen on the card reader, your eyes nearly pop out of your head, having failed to realize how expensive the sweater was as Seokjin stuffed it into your hands. Surely he must have known, or he wouldn’t have picked it up.

“Seokjin, what on Earth—” You immediately say, making to fight with him.

“Just let me, Y/N,” he pleads. “Please? I just want to treat you.”

“But—”

“You deserve it, you know?” Seokjin asks, turning you so that you face him directly. He’s got the same look in his eye, determination and focus lacing his features. Like he’s daring you to challenge him. “You’re so wonderful, all of the time. And you treat others with so much kindness and respect. You’re funny without having to try super hard like me, and you’ve been dealing with my shit for so long that I’m surprised you haven’t up and left.”

He gives your hand a firm squeeze from under the checkout counter. A reminder not to argue with him, even if only for a couple of minutes.

“And I love you,” Seokjin finishes, too firm and secure to be an afterthought. Too easily said for it to be something he felt obligated to add on.

The lady looks sufficiently endeared as she hands you the plastic Macy’s bag, giving the both of you a smile as you turn to leave. Seokjin looks incredibly pleased with himself and pulls you into a side-hug, crushing your ribs in the process.

“You never let me down, Y/N,” he declares successfully, releasing you from his limb prison. “Thanks for letting me be your boyfriend for an afternoon. I’m ready to go raid Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment.”

You hum in response, letting Seokjin ramble on about how he was worried he wouldn’t be a good enough actor to fool her and how he really thought she would see through the whole thing without any interruptions from yourself. If he’s noticed how resigned you are, he’s made no comment.

“You know I hate it when you buy me things,” you tell him softly as you’re walking out of the store, fingers fiddling with each other as you stare down into the bag in your hands. There’s a sweater in there that you wish Seokjin hadn’t bought you and a feeling in your heart that you can’t get rid of.

“Pay me back later if it bothers you that much,” Seokjin tells you.

You stay silent.

Christmas lights decorate Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment, taped up along the walls and windows and wrapped around their grossly millennial white Christmas tree, radiating a soft, warm glow that seems to make everything more romantic than it should be.

You’ve been sitting on the couch the entire night, nursing a cup of kombucha in your hands as everyone around you celebrates, shouting and cheering and screaming. Seokjin disappeared from your sight the moment you walked through the door, always the life of the party.

There’s a sweater in the trunk of his car and a nagging voice at the back of your head.

Taehyung loved the gift you got him, if it’s any consolation. He had opened all of them right after Jungkook wiped most of the icing off of Taehyung’s birthday cake and onto his face, using it as perfect leverage to kiss it off of him, much to everyone’s minor disgust. As he gave you a hug of thanks, Seokjin winked at you, as if to say, “Don’t you trust me?”

You worry that you trust him too much.

Seokjin bought Taehyung Super Smash Brothers for his birthday, and immediately the video game became the object of everyone’s attention as Taehyung rushed to plug the game into his Nintendo Switch. As you swirl around your kombucha, Taehyung and company are furiously shouting at each other, aggressively mashing the buttons on the controllers in their hands.

“Hey,” a soft voice says next to you. You turn your head to see Seokjin, his soft palm placed against your back to get your attention. “Wanna go outside? It’s loud in here.”

It’s loud in here, too, your brain supplies unhelpfully.

Your best friend pulls you up from where you’re seated, leading you to the balcony outside Taehyung and Jungkook’s kitchen, overlooking a rather dinky part of town. It’s not the greatest view, and by no means is it peaceful or quiet, but it’s enough. He seems to be nursing a cup of kombucha as well. Taehyung and Jungkook never really did alcohol.

You stand in silence for a few moments, letting the fresh air wash over you like waves on the shore, the tide pulling you in before pushing you back.

Then, “Thanks for helping me pick out Taehyung’s gift. He really liked it.”

“I knew he would,” Seokjin responds. “You should have more faith in me.”

“I have enough faith in you, Seokjin.” You sigh.

Car honks. Police sirens. Chatter. Wind.

“If you really don’t like that sweater, I’ll return it. It’s no big deal,” Seokjin speaks up. “I know you don’t like it when I buy you things.”

“It’s not that, it’s just—”

“I wanted to tell you that everything I said in Macy’s today, that’s true,” Seokjin continues. Your breath hitches in your throat. Boyfriend or not, you’re the greatest person that I’ve ever met. That I think I’ll ever meet.” You feel him as he comes up next to you. “There’s nobody like you, Y/N.”

“You don’t mean that,” you say, more to yourself than to him.

“Of course I do,” Seokjin says. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Then would you kiss me?” You whisper softly, hoping that the sounds of the traffic below will drown out your voice. Hoping that the words will just fade into the air around you without Seokjin even realizing.

“What?”

He places a hand on your arm before pulling you into him, large palms tracing up and down your figure. Seokjin reaches up, brushes away a stray strand of hair. Lets the soft pad of his thumb gently press on your cheek.

“Don’t make me say it again,” you mutter to yourself, eyes tracing the laces of your boots.

“Y/N,” Seokjin says, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his dark brown ones, the Christmas lights decorating the apartment reflected in his irises, like golden stars in a sea of black. “Do you even need to ask?”

Before your mind can catch up to your racing heart, you feel his lips pressing against yours, warm and soft and perfect. He pulls you in closer, leans in further, holds you tighter. It’s not a deep kiss, no tongue, no biting. Just lips. Just lips and the feeling of him, of your best friend, of Seokjin in everything that he can be.

He pulls away softly, standing up tall once more. His cheeks are tinged pink. His smile has never been brighter.

“You know,” Seokjin says. “When I said I loved you, I meant that, too.”

There’s a sweater in a Macy’s bag in the trunk of a car, and another kiss on your best friend-turned-boyfriend’s lips that you fully intend on stealing.

⇒ hmu with feedback or just talk to me here!

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cg29 · 5 years

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Fluffember Prompts

A collection of prompts from @gumnut-logic Fluffember challenge. (Now posted in my Pick & Mix collection with previously shared Fluffember stories)

*** ***

The Beast. Day 8: Encounter.

It was dark. Only a few rays of sunlight managing to penetrate the lair he had entered. He had been warned on numerous occasions about the beast that inhabited this area and was known to attack when woken, but he had not believed. Yes, he had seen it on many occasions, but all of those times it had been funny, friendly and caring. Surely, just because it was woken early it wouldn't attack. Especially since it was him.

He creeped closer. Currently it was lying on its stomach, eyes were tightly shut, and bizarre noises were emitting from it. Finally, reaching his destination he leant towards it, his hand reaching out, but then a sudden snort from the thing in front of him was released causing him to jump back. Maybe it wasn't best to disturb it? Maybe Gordon was right, and the beast did attack if provoked this early? Although his brother was known to make things up. This probably was just one of his jokes and the usual encounter would be received. He had to be brave and find out the truth. Straightening himself up, he stepped forwards, and placed his hand confidently on the shoulder in front of him…

"Virg…"

No movement, no signs of him waking, so he tried again…

"Virgie?"

This time a groan emitted from his brother, then once again he grew quiet…

"Virgie," he pushed harder on his shoulder, "please wake up."

A yawn, and a pair of bleary eyes opened, grumpy and nothing like the kind-hearted peaceful ones he was used to… He moved backwards… Maybe this was a mistake… But then there eyes met, and a soft gentle smile illuminated the features of his brother.

"Hey Alligator, what's up?"

"Nothing," Alan replied with a little snigger at the nickname.

Virgil regarded the three-year-old in front of him. "Nothing, really?"

"Well, Gordy said you were a beast in the morning, but I didn't believe him, so he said I should come and see for myself."

"Did he indeed?"

Alan nodded his head.

"Well, I'm not a beast."

"Knew it!" Alan cheered happily.

"But," Virgil looked at his clock, "when I am woken this early, I am known to turn into a bear."

Alan gasped in shock.

"And you know what bears do, right?"

Alan scrunched up his little nose and shuck his head…

"Well, they are known to attack."

"Really?"

"Yes, with…" Virgil paused for dramatic effect… "tickles!"

A fit of giggles erupted from Alan when Virgil pounced, flung him over his shoulder, then onto the bed where he began tickling him madly.

*** ***

Favourite Drinks. Day 9: Hot Beverage.

We all know Virgil likes a… Okay, scratch the likes and replace it with needs… That boy needs a cup of coffee to function. In fact, his need for the beverage runs so deep that there is a coffee machine on Two. As soon as he's in flight and the autopilot as been selected a quick press of a button will dispense, just underneath the control panel, a deliciously rich warm coffee with one sugar and no milk or cream. Just the way he likes it. The machine is actually a new addition. A birthday present from Brains. Oh, and yes, the rumours were true, Virgil did cry with happiness when he was gifted it. So, yes, our artistic guy is a coffee addict, but what about the others? Have you ever wondered what their favourite hot drinks are…

Alan. Well, his favourite will always be hot chocolate made with milk and topped with marshmallows and cream. The best hot chocolates though are made by John, who also claims this drink as his favourite. When on the homestead he will whip up Alan's and then make his own with water, no milk. Then they will sit, just the two of them, beneath the stars they love.

When Penelope is nearby Gordon will claim that his favourite beverage is an English breakfast tea with a drop of milk, and yes, while a nice cup of tea is enjoyed, it actually takes his second spot. His first choice, well, that will always be hot water with honey and lemon. The taste, soothing. The smell reminding him of his childhood and time spent with just him and his mom after he had completed an early morning swim. Also he likes to think of himself as a no-frills kind of guy… Yes, I know, hard to imagine!

Scott, like Virgil is a coffee addict. Okay, not as bad as Virgil, but he does like a drink to help spur him on after a long morning run. However, unlike his brother he prefers his beverage Irish. Coffee with a shot or two of whisky. It was actually his father who introduced him to the mix after his first difficult rescue. He put a drop in some of his and Scott's mugs and they sat together talking through their troubles. Now, while sipping on the warming liquid, Scott will drift into a daydream, one filled with him and his father, finally reunited after eight years apart.

And the rest…

Well, Lady Penelope's choice is certainly no mystery. She is a Tea connoisseur, with numerous flavours tested throughout the years. Everything from English Breakfast, green tea, berry infusion or a simple chamomile to a chocolate mint, and even a candy floss blend. Which she personally found a bit sickly. Her favourite, Earl Grey which will always be consumed at eleven am.

Parker, just like the lady of the manor loves a good old fashioned 'cuppa' tea, with full fat milk, two sugars and don't forget the digestive biscuits for dunking.

Brains, doesn't have a favourite, and will drink anything you put in front of him… Which should be done often because he'll just get wrapped up in his work and forget to hydrate.

Kayo does not do hot drinks, of any kind, and will always turn to a homemade fruit smoothie.

Grandma. She's a perfect mix of four of her boys, and loves nothing more than a freshly made mocha, with chocolate sprinkles of course…

*** ***

The Secret Talent. Day 12: Food.

One of the boys has a talent that his family don't know about. Well, actually, Kayo knows because it is impossible to keep anything from her, but she has always kept the secret for him, even if she doesn't quite understand why he keeps it hush. There is also a strong possibility that John knows too, he has never actually brought it up, but the guy knows all and sees all. The rest of the family though, they don't, and Gordon the one who possesses this particular skill would prefer to keep it that way. Not that there is a reason in keeping it a closely guarded secret. Yes, he would probably receive some gentle teasing at first but once his brothers clicked on to the benefits of his talent and that they had actually been happily enjoying the results of his gift for many years then they would definitely let it go. Yet, he still would like to keep it from them. Prefers it that way because although he shares the final results, the preparation part, well that is just for him…

So, you are probably wondering what this mystery ability is?

Gordon can bake. Cakes to be precise. From cheesecakes and blueberry muffins to double chocolate fudge cakes or a good old-fashioned Victoria sponge. Big proper sized ones, tiny minute ones, fantastically intricately decorated ones and even tiny bitty cupcakes with triple frosting. You name it, he will bake it, he will even add intricate decorations on top. Oh, and if you are wondering, yes he has even made ones in the shape of their individual birds before.

His favourite time to bake will be when he is alone. Everyone else might be out on a mission and he isn't, or they are off island for some other reason. That will be the moment, his time, to grab an apron, put on some music and get all the ingredients he needs. Then when prepared, he will whip up some cakes ready for when his weary family return. Other times will be usually really early in the morning. He will wake about two hours before Scott, whip up some cakes then stick them in the oven. By time they are coming out Scott will be getting up, but he heads straight for a morning run, and never catches the clean-up and decorating process. He will then stow them away for later in the day.

The taste… Well, they certainly do not taste like anything their grandma would make. In fact, anyone who has been lucky enough to try one as always remarked on the exquisite taste and then will ask where they were purchased from. Gordon will come up with some wacky cake shop name to cover his tracks and no one, not even his brothers, will think to go and look for this place because he will tell them that he enjoys picking them up. So they let him, because if he isn't pulling some sort of practical joke then that is a good thing, and when it comes to food they know he won't jokingly tamper since decent food is a precious rarity in the Tracy household. There is also a secondary reason Gordon would never add a silly ingredient to his cakes, and it's the exact same reason he would never dream of messing with Virgil's piano or one of his paintings, because baking is an art form, a way for him to express his inner self.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go fandom #fluffember2019 #fluffember #fluffember 2019 #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy

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tomeandflickcorner · 5 years

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Episode Review- The Real Ghostbusters: The Boogieman Cometh

Hmmm. I wonder if the people behind Monsters, Inc. drew some inspiration from watching this episode.

We open with the Ghostbusters in pursuit of Louie, a stereotypical gangster ghost. The ‘you’ll never take me alive, copper’ type. At present, Louie has hijacked a truck, resulting in a car chase with the Ecto-1. However, the Ghostbusters manage to trap Louie in the end and bring him back to the Firehouse, where they’re greeted by Janine, who is actually the most on-par with Annie Pott’s portrayal of the character as I’ve seen her in the episodes so far, so that was cool to see. Shortly after returning, the Ghostbusters decide to retire for the night and go to bed, with Peter instructing Janine to not let anyone in. Which is a bit strange, when you think about it. Does Janine not go home at night? Is she there at the Firehouse 24/7? That poor woman.

Anyway, we then cut to the Ghostbuster’s sleeping quarters, where we get a seemingly pointless scene of Peter finding his pillow drenched with slime. Realizing that Slimer has been sleeping on his pillow again, Peter threatens their pet ghost with this prototype ghost bomb that Egon has apparently invented offscreen, which is supposed to disintegrate all ghosts in a 50 yard radius. Once Slimer zooms off in fear, Peter goes to sleep. But not for long, as the Ghostbusters are woken up during the night by Janine, who informs them that they have a late-night visitor. She goes on to say that, while she knows they instructed her to not let anyone else in, she felt that an exception should be made in this case. The late-night visitor is then revealed to be two small children, Megan and Kenny Carter. The children explain that they’re being terrorized by the Boogieman, who lives in their closet, and even offer to pay the Ghostbusters with the money in their piggybanks if they agree to help. At first, it looks as if the Ghostbusters will simply chuckle this away. Because ha-ha, little kids are scared of the Boogieman. But Egon insists that they take this seriously. Because he knows that the Boogieman actually does exist. It eventually comes out that Egon himself encountered the Boogieman when he was a little boy, and it was that encounter that led him to want to study the paranormal in the first place, since he wanted to find a way to stop the Boogieman. Which is why he insists that they’ll handle Megan and Kenny’s case at no charge.

So the Ghostbusters bring Megan and Kenny back to their apartment, where their parents are still asleep. (They apparently snuck out without their parents’ knowledge. Which is impressive, as it indicates these two kids managed to find their way to the Firehouse on their own.) Shortly after they enter the children’s bedroom, they determine there is indeed a high reading of paranormal activity emanating from their closet. And at midnight on the dot, a portal opens up within the closet, allowing the Boogieman to enter the room. However, it’s quickly determined that the Boogieman is not actually a ghost, so the Ghostbusters are unable to catch him in a Ghost Trap. Instead, they can only force the Boogieman back into the closet with a full proton stream. While they are successful in driving the Boogieman back, the Ghostbusters realize that he will most likely be back. But the noise they made in their efforts has woken up Megan and Kenny’s parents. They take the presence of four grown men in their children’s bedroom surprisingly well, but that’s probably just because they were able to recognize the Ghostbusters, seeing as they were big celebrities in the city and all. Although, they don’t believe their claim that they were facing the Boogieman and suggest that the Ghostbusters leave. The Ghostbusters comply with their request and return to the Firehouse. Except for Winston, who, out of concern for Megan and Kenny’s well-being, opts to stand guard out on the street in case the Boogieman decides to come back that night. And a good thing too, because the Boogieman does attempt to return later on, prompting Winston to scare him back with a well-aimed proton stream through the open bedroom window.

Back and the Firehouse, the Ghostbusters discuss how to best go about dealing with the Boogieman if they can’t actually trap him. They soon come up with a plan which involves them luring the Boogieman into a different kind of trap. Basically, if they can lure the Boogieman out of a closet portal, the Ghostbusters can use that to their advantage and actually enter his domain. Once on the other side, they can use Egon’s Ghost Bomb to set off an explosion that would effectively close all the portals connecting the Boogieman’s world to the closets of children around the world. However, there’s a small catch. Not every closet contains a portal to the Boogieman’s world. So for this plan to work, the Ghostbusters have to track down a closet that does contain a portal. Especially since it’s doubtful Mr. and Mrs. Carter would be very accommodating if they tried to use the one in Megan and Kenny’s room. After all, they don’t believe the Boogieman actually exists.

As such, the Ghostbusters search around the city, checking out every available apartment for rent. They eventually locate a closet with a portal in a rather expensive apartment room. While they’re not thrilled with the steep price attached to the place, they’re left with very little choice. (I wonder what they did with this apartment afterwards. Maybe they gifted it to Janine so she’d actually have a place to go after closing time?) Anyway, the Ghostbusters promptly get to work in dressing up the apartment room to resemble a child’s bedroom. Once the stage is set up, all they need is the bait. They quickly select Ray, on account of how he’s clearly the most childlike of the group, which is highlighted by Ray’s exuberance upon noticing a plushie of Dopey Dog among the stuffed animals Egon was able to locate. (Dopey Dog is apparently the star of a popular in-universe cartoon show for kids.) And I readily admit I got a chuckle from seeing Ray milking his role as a ‘child’ for all it’s worth, asking for a glass of water before bed as well as requesting that Peter tell him a bedtime story. The Ghostbuster’s plan ultimately works, with the Boogieman emerging from the bedroom closet in order to scare the ‘child’ that is Ray. Unfortunately, when the Ghostbuters moved in to attack, the Boogieman manages to slip back though the portal, forcing the Ghostbusters to give chase. Which leads to a rather entertaining sequence of the Ghostbusters chasing after the Boogieman through the bedrooms of random children. Including the bedroom of a child living in Hollywood. Eventually though, the Boogieman manages to give the Ghostbusters the slip.

Not to be deterred, the Ghostbusters proceed with their true initiative by managing to locate the Boogieman’s innermost sanctum. There, they begin working on hooking up Egon’s Ghost Bomb to all four of their Proton Packs. Basically, Egon abandoned the concept of perfecting his Ghost Bomb because he couldn’t find a sufficient way to power it. But now he theorizes that, if they hook up the Ghost Bomb to their Proton Packs and set them to overload, it should provide the Ghost Bomb with the power it needs to detonate. Right before they could essentially light the fuse on the Ghost Bomb, the Ghostbusters find their escape route blocked by the Boogieman. Egon, on account of his personal experience with the Boogieman as a child, volunteers to essentially sacrifice himself to hold the Boogieman at bay so Peter, Ray and Winston can escape the Boogieman’s realm before the Ghost Bomb goes off and seals off the portals back to the Human World.

Fortunately though, it doesn’t come to that. Because it turns out that Megan and Kenny have witnessed this confrontation through the portal inside their bedroom closet. Remembering what Winston told them earlier about how the Boogieman is only powerful against them if they’re afraid, the children manage to face their fears and stand up to the Boogieman, with Kenny even tripping the Boogieman up with marbles. Because of Megan and Kenny’s efforts, the Ghostbusters are all able to successfully set off the Ghost Bomb and return safely to the other side before the portals are sealed off, imprisoning the Boogieman once and for all. With the day saved, Egon tucks Megan and Kenny into bed, wishing them both a goodnight.

The episode ends with the Ghostbusters returning to the Firehouse. There, they get a brief scare when a hand emerges from Peter’s personal locker, which momentarily makes them think the Boogieman somehow came back. But it turns out it was only Slimer playing a prank on them, possibly in retaliation of Peter threating him at the start of the episode. Which, of course, irritates Peter.

Watching this episode did make me wonder if at least one person over at Disney/Pixar saw this episode as a kid. Because the scene where the Ghostbusters are chasing after the Boogieman does remind me of the climactic scene in Monsters, Inc., where they’re running through the various doors and ending up in random places all over the world. And the way Megan and Kenny manage to face their fears to stand up to the Boogieman in order to assist the Ghostbusters does seem to parallel the moment where Boo got over her fear of Randel in order to defend Sully. Then again, it could just be a huge coincidence. Who can say? Either way, it was a really good episode. And the design of the Boogieman was particularly creative, from his oversized head to his cloven feet. Props to the animation team on this one.

(Click here to read more Ghostbusters reviews)

#the real ghostbusters #rgb episode review #ghostbusters franchise

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wickednerdery · 6 years

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Title: Hoarfrost Hel: Captivated Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Loki (& multiple OCs) Rating: Mature Summary: “Unimpressive.” Notes: This is the second part of what’s shaping up to be a legit trilogy (the first is FrostBitten) - the master list is here. The story on whole is gonna be very dark, this piece itself includes violence, manipulation, and some manhandling of Loki. For consistency and length, it gets a “Read More”.

Every few feet the guards stop, stomp Loki under their boots, before moving on...by the time he reaches his final destination in the medical building his nose bleeds, eyes swell, and two ribs are broken. The men heave him into the room, kick out knees so he hits the floor, and one yanks the muzzle from his mouth so harshly it chips tooth. “Fucking piece of shit,” the man mutters, forcing Loki up, back on his heels. “Stay.”

He says nothing, does nothing, as they clip chain from his collar to an empty exam table. He takes the room in. The serpent woman, Malina, lays on an exam table with collar chained to its base as a woman with armor so fitted it could be skin looks her and nearby monitors over. A large portable instrument-table stands at the center.

Guards exit, some giving a spare kick as if for good luck, with the last whispering to the woman hovering by Malina. Loki catches a name - Root - as she nods.

“They tell me you are a fighter.” The woman’s voice is deep, detached. “Will you fight me, little Asgardian?”

Loki knows it best to stay silent or assure he’ll be no trouble. “I’ve no reason.” But his pride thinks ‘Yet” and the collar fires a shot, he winces and Malina jolts, groans.

“A thrall without a master is lost thing...” Root muses, turning to him. All along her hairline, framing her face, is blue that bleeds into her eyes, lips, and sections of her hair. Loki can sense her strength on instinct and realizes she is not one to battle in his current state. “It’s dangerous for them, they must listen to everyone. Obey every thing.”

Legs and thighs, ankles and feet, shake as he attempts to both keep his position and lean back in her approach. Eventually he tips, falls onto his back with only one good hand to protect him. Something about her, her stomping walk and hard stare, makes him uneasy while he’s in this state...this is the one entrusted to treat his injuries?

“You are remarkably...” Her lips spread in a grin as she stands over him, sets boot on either side and squats. Smile leaves. “Unimpressive.” Smile returns at his wince when foot taps shattered wrist. “You can heal yourself.”

“No.” The collar immediately reacts to the “lie” and he arches in the rabid shocks of the punishment...as does Malina. “I...I...Ah...Ah!!” Tears stream, jaw locks, as his eyes roll up away from Root’s critical ones.

“You will heal yourself.”

Seiðr works to obey faster than his brain registers the order, healing body from head to toe with its reserves. Loki’s eyes shut in exhausted relief from the waves of pain, the aches of muscles, he’s had since his last days on Asgard...all of twelve hours ago, by his calculation. Eyes reopen when the woman’s weight pins him at the waist.

“You’re punished, she reacts. Why?”

“I...I don’t know.”

Root stares, blinks, then suddenly pins Loki’s hand under her boot and jams a knife into the center of his arm. He screams as much in shock as pain, but she disallows him to pull away. Ignores his attempts to get her boot off as she turns back to Malina on the bed. She cringes, arm twitching, as vitals react in pain. “Heal yourself,” the doctor orders, pulling the blade out.

Loki does, keeping hand over healed arm, protecting it, while he watches the doctor go over to Malina. She calls to the woman to wake up and Malina does, as if the order itself determines whether or not she sleeps. She cradles arm and apologizes; Loki can’t fathom for what.

“You are tied to him. Why?”

“His brother ordered me to care for him, ensure he is not hurt.”

“He did?” Loki’s outburst comes from pure shock; Thor has not abandoned him...not completely.

Root’s attention whips back and his eyes go wide with worry; she takes a step forward before Malina calls her back. “Until I get a new master, I’m responsible for him.”

The doctor eyes the god chained to her table carefully. “His pain is yours.”

“Until a new master, yes.”

“Interesting.” She looks back to Malina.

The serpent-woman slides up on the table, gold eyes trying to entrance the other. “The thrall collars work in mysterious ways, as you know.”

“He will get you killed.”

“Help me.” The collar squeezes in. “Us...help us.”

“What will you give me?”

“What do you want?”

“I will have your venom.”

Malina’s attempt having failed she sighs with a nod. “Very well, get me the cup.”

The Kree woman selects a large plastic cup from her instrument table and hands it over. “Fill it.”

“I...I’m not...” Her collar presses in as she rides between disobedience and obedience. “...sure I can.” With everything her own body’s been through on Asgard, in transport and landing here.

“I don’t care.”

“...If I might,” Loki gives his most charming smile. “Perhaps I can offer something to make up the difference?” His mistake is clear almost immediately as the doctor turns to him.

“There is nothing of yours I cannot have.” Root only does pleasantries with Malina because she knows the slave knows her place. “And Malina will give me everything she can spare.”

Malina focuses so only her fangs appear, then sets them at the inner-edge of the cup and bites. Venom drips, dribbles, an amber gold similar to her eyes. Eyes that only catch Loki’s once and quickly look away before shutting completely. She’s been ordered to give up her venom countless times, but has yet to grow accustomed to it. Even though a slave all her life, knowing better, something about her milkings always feels...intensely private.

“You will stand where you are and remain silent as I gather information.” Root orders Loki, rolling tray-table as she approaches. He rises and opens mouth to agree, but can’t speak due to her orders. So he watches, eyes flicking to Malina now and again, but otherwise focusing on the doctor and her various instruments. Only when she smiles at the results of a blood test does Loki’s gut tighten. “You are not Asgardian...you are Jotun.”

In a split second Loki’s flattened under her once again, heart slamming adrenaline throughout his body as fight or flight kicks in. He tries to scramble out from under her, flip their positions, but she only reasserts and fists hair to force his face to hers.

“Show me your lines.” He tries to shake head, she slams it into the floor. “Show me your lines!”

Loki doesn’t understand why she wants to see them, why cold demeanor has turned into fiery aggression. Does she think the lines have significance? Has she made an enemy Jotun and wishes to identify him via designs? Whatever the reason, he refuses. He remains stubborn and panicked, fighting as discomfort leads to pain and strain turns to shock. He grits teeth and Malina begins to shake so that her own orders can no longer be followed. She winces, gasps, grips metal-table’s edge and cup both. If she could beg, she would, but the words fail as she tries to handle two punishments at once.

Root grabs his chin, forces his gaze to Malina. “You do this to her for what? Pride?!” She huffs amusement. “You cling to something you’ve no right to, Jotun slave. Now show me your lines!”

He can take the collar’s punishments still, he knows that, but Malina...she doubles over, shrinks back into herself. The cup crushes in her hand and she wails as her own venom burns her hand and collar doubles the punishment. That is his fault. Her failure, her pain, is his fault, and only he can stop it...With deep inhale Loki closes his eyes and lets Jotun lines fade into being.

Malina falls back onto the table with a groan as pain subsides; she pants attempts to catch breath. Her hand throbs, skin bubbles and blisters, but collar reads it as punishment enough for her failure to give Root the venom. She twists, sets forehead to cool metal, as she prays once more for a new master to come soon.

The god’s chin is released and he looks away, up to the doctor taking him in. Her eyes scan intently; hand goes to his tunic and yanks it up to expose stomach and chest, searching for something. Loki swallows urge to fight as muscles ripple, then twitch. He looks down, across lines he so rarely lets be seen even by himself, then back to the doctor. What in the nine realms is she looking for?

“The last time I had one like you under me it was most educational...” His shiver vibrates under her, her lips quirk up as fingers trace a section across sternum. “I never got to complete my research.” Nails dig in slightly, plucking at a now ridged line on his chest.

“Hey!” The voice comes from the doorway, quick and irritated. “You’re here to clear them medically, not...whatever the fuck you’re doing with that poor thing. You want that shit, you pay like everyone else, now fucking clear them already!”

Loki’s closes eyes in relief; sighing caught breath as his appearance returns to its most comfortable state. He doesn’t dare reopen eyes even after he feels Root’s weight leave him in a growl of displeasure.

“This one can heal itself, probably others as well.”

“Then have him do it and move the fuck on. We’ve got two more shipments coming in this afternoon.”

So Root has a history with a Jotun, but not Loki...you’ll find out more going forward because I think Root’s a little, haha, obsessive and will show up again. Not sure if the guy at the end who interrupted Root’s plans is friend, foe, or indifferent to Loki yet...my brain can’t decide yet lol! (You have a thought/opinion on it, feel free to share!) Next is either one more Loki or back to Ulfr - again, brain hasn’t decided yet, lol!

(Gif made by me via two gifs found on Google)

Tagged: @chibiyanai @lady-crowned-with-stars @moonfaery @annievvv7 @ladyfluff @holykryptonitekitten @lokilvrr @janebrownnie @lokis-little-kitten @alexakeyloveloki @theangelsfightwithdevils @the-blue-tiefling @lokis-lady-death @dangertoozmanykids101 @prometheasmother @vethrvolnir @wintertink @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @drakonwild @starscreamloki @judas-nipples @hiddles-rose @the-lady-witchitery @galaxies-inside-my-head @jackheart180 @lukeevansandjdmobession @endlessstairway @lanabanana-86 @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981 @lovekrystina @madoka73 @lokikingofasgardslover713 @partiallyinthecloset @ultrarebelheart @gravitational-anomaly @manip-loki @my-world-of-imagines @lowcarbgem @tarithenurse …Think that’s everyone from FrostBitten, if you want on or off, just lemme know! (Strike-throughs are those Tumblr refuses to tag properly)

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haikyuu-and-more-haikyuu · 5 years

Text

May the tides forever be in your favor.

Hello, this is an AU by @basically-i-write-shit. It is about Yamaguchi and his mother moving in with Ren, that is the father of certain cat named Kuroo Tetsurō and his older brother Kuroo Eiichi. Check out his blog and his writing. It’s a great! (this fic is about a year or two into their new living arraignment)

Ren and Tadashi have a distant relationship despite how well his new girlfriend gets along with his own, two boys. He really wants to bond with Tadashi, but doesn’t know how. this night, it’s the first time he is aloe with Tadashi.

Words: 2915

Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. This is my second language and I am still struggling to catch all the misspelling.

He was alone.

For the first time since Aoi and Tadashi moved in, he was alone with the little boy. His partner was out of town, visiting an old aunt and wouldn't return until tomorrow afternoon. He remembered how Tadashi had begged to come with her, but couldn't. Since bringing a fourth grader to her sick, old aunt would be too much of a hassle for the old woman. It was sad.

His own two boys were out too, Tetsurō stayed at Kenma for the night and Eiichi stayed at a group sleep over with his classmates. In hindsight, He thought it was best that his two rowdy boys were out while he was alone with Tadashi. They had a tendency to be too much for the little nine year old and Tadashi would often run to protection. And that protection was his mother's hug and a handful of kind and encouraging words.

Ren wasn’t upset with Tadashi. Not after what his girlfriend told him about how his birth father treated the little boy. Being harassed and abused by strong boys had made Tadashi wary of boys in general, especially adults and older children. Ren didn’t judge Tadashi for being drawn back when there were other males in the room.

It was understandable that it would take time for him to warm up his new family.

Now, at the dinner table, Ren could really feel the tension.

Tadashi sat quietly by the table. If Aoi was here, he would chatter happily with his mother as she asked him about his day, alternating between japanese and spanish as they talked and communicated between them. They really had a warm bond.

Tadashi was a well behaved kid, timid and shy, but polite nonetheless. He had thanked for his food when Ren had sat his bowl of shoyu ramen down and began to eat quietly.

He had yet to mutter a word to his step dad.

Ren breathed deeply, to calm himself, and briefly wondered how he got so bent over a nine year old not wanting to talk to him. This was Aoi’s only child, and if their relationship didn't develop for the better, maybe Ren and Aoi wouldn’t work out like he thought they would.

Ren cleared his throat. “So, Tadashi-kun, what did you do in school today?.” Ren started and caught Tadashi's attention. The boy looked hesitant and glanced over at the seat beside him. The seat Aoi used to sit at. “Learn anything new?”

Tadashi looked down at his plate, chopstick trembling slightly in his hand. “We learned a little about multiplication today.”

“Ah, was it hard?” Ren asked, and though he really should stop being so nervous around the boy. Dammit, he had two of his own. He could do this.

“A little.”

And that was that. That was the only conversation he managed to muster up when his new step son was alone with him. No wonder Tadashi barely spoke to him.

Ren almost slammed his head into the table. He would have, but Ren chances of Tadashi opening himself up more to him would have decreased by a ten fold.

Later, when Yamaguchi had escaped to his room, Ren sat on the couch and read the news paper. Even with Tadashi in the house, it was quiet. His boys were never this quiet. They were usually jumping on the walls, calling each other as they played on their PSP’s and such. It was constant noice from the two of them, unless they were asleep.

He made his way, quietly, up the stairs and knocked on Tadashi bedroom door and waited for a soft “Come in” before he entered.

Tadashi was lying on his stomach on the floor. Pencils and papers were scattered around him and the freckled boy seemed occupied with his drawings. Tadashi turned back to his work, albeit he looked a little more tense than he should have looked. There were a few that looked like pokemons, and yes, he remembered most of them. Both his boys had their pokemon phase when they were younger. He had endured much of Ash and his friends adventures through the years. There were some drawings of skyscrapers, that Ren suspected was because Tadashi recently had moved to Tokyo, and had seen a lot more of those big buildings.

He still remembered Tadashi astonished face as he saw a skyscraper for the first time when they went out of the suburbs and into the city.

The drawing he worked on now was clearly a stick figure of him and what he suspected was his mother. They were holding hands and had big smiles on their faces. Tadashi had drawn their freckles with three spots on each cheek for the both of them. In the background was a pale yellow house. It was their hose. Ren didn't know why he got so happy by seeing Tadashi choosing their house, instead of the apartment building he had back in Miyagi. He had also filled the paper with drawings of flowers, one that were taller than Aoi. It was clearly a work by a devoted nine year old.

“That looks nice.” Ren hummed as he crouched down to Tadashi’s level.

“Thanks, it’s for Oka-san.” Tadashi chipped soundly as he switched his blue pencil for a green one.

Ren decided to lay beside of him, on his stomach. He watched him work for a few seconds.

“Do you make her drawings often?”

Tadashi looked at him. Big brown eyes were gazing over his hazel ones. “I always make drawings for Oka-san when she is traveling without me.” He turned quickly back to his paper. He was working on the sun in the corner. It had sunglasses. Ren felt himself smile. His boys also used to draw the sun with sunglasses, it didn't make sense, but it i was a nice touch. “It makes her happy when I draw to her.”

Ren nodded. He already knew Tadashi was an empathic child. When Eiichi had fallen ill with a light cold, Tadashi, despite being shy in front of all of them, had given the older boy one of his dangos. There were no surprise in why Tadashi choose to make a gifts for his mom when she was out of town for the night.

“Hey, Tadashi-kun, can I draw with you?”

Tadashi looked at him. He didn't know if he was surprised or not, he had yet to learn how to read the brown eyed boy’s expressions. When Tadashi got up to give him a white piece of paper and kindly set his pencils between the two of them, Ren knew he got a ‘yes’ from the other.

Ren had never been an artist, which was the reason he also made stick figures and had the sun in the far corner. And sides, his skill couldn't even match the work of Tadashi's.

Ren made the whole family. He drew himself and Aoi holding hands and made Tetsurō, Eiichi and Tadashi hold hands. He hoped the little gesture made his step son happy.

“It that us?” Tadashi asked and glanced over to the side.

“Yes, yes it is.” Rin said, feeling his cheek getting rosy. “Do you like it?”

Tadashi smiled. “Yes, I do.” He sat up and looked over his own drawing. “Oka-san will be happy we drew for her.” He said and Ren nodded back.

They cleaned up the pencil and papers, and Rin helped Tadashi put his new drawings in a folder he had by his small desk.

“Hey, Tadashi, you like pokemon, right?”

The mention of pokemon had his full attention. He had stars in his eyes. Tadashi obviously caught himself off guard, because he quickly looked away and started playing with the hem of his shirt, ears getting pink.

“You see, Tetsu-chan and Eii-chan really likes pokemon too. We have some of the old movies, too.”

“You do?” Tadashi asked, eagerly. He let go of his shirt and Ren could feel the excitement radiating from him. He laughed fondly at the boy.

“Yes, we do.” Ren opened the door out to the halway. “If you want to, we can watch one. We can eat some snacks and sit on the couch.”

“Yes, let’s do that.” He shrieked in joy. It was the first time Ren had heard Tadashi raise his voice. Even when Tadashi was crying, he had done that so quietly. Ren was surprised when Tadashi grabbed his pants and started to tug him out of his room and into the living room.

“Say, you set the couch ready and I get the snacks. The movies are beside the dvd player. Choose the one you want to see.” Tadashi lets go of him and carried on with the important task of finding a movie while Ren made his way to the kitchen.

He first thought of making a bowl with some candy they had around, but remembered that Aoi had told him that Tadashi prefered other snacks instead of sweets.

He doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, but he does love chips, preferably made with paprika flavour.

He smiled as he fished out a bag of flavoured chips. He also took out some chocolate milk for the both of them.

Tadashi had picked out the first pokemon movie and had already seated himself on the sofa. He had pulled his blanket over him and was eagerly waiting with the remote in his hand.

He put the bowls on the table and pulled it closer to the couch so it would be easier to reach for Tadashi and sat down beside the boy. He did give them some space, no point in making Tadashi uncomfortable.

Tadashi was glued to the movie. He laughed at the funny parts and snorted at the ridiculous ones. Ren could see how he held his breath before an action scene. To be such a timid child, Tadashi was fairly expressive.

Nearing the end, Tadashi clung to his arms and presses his face into his sweater.

“I don’t like the scene when Ash turns into stone.” Tadashi says, voice wavering. He still looked at the tv screen. Ren was reminded that Aoi said something about Tadashi getting sympetich with the characters.

This was his chance. The way he handled this situation would determinate how their relationship would grow.

Ren slowly raised the hand Tadashi was clutching. The boy tensed without his safety net, but didn't look at him. Ren then slowly reached for Tadashi's shoulders and tucked him close to himself.

With Tadashi half hugged to his side, Ren felt giddy as the boy didn't try to get away from him. He blamed half of it on the pokemon movie that Tadashi was engulfed in. But he stayed and he reached again for Ren arm and his small hands clutched Ren’s sweater.

It felt kind of like when Testurō and Eiichi were here watching with him, but entirely different at the same time. Ren had been so worried about asking Aoi to move in with him and his children. He had been worried they wouldn’t like the big city and move back. Ren was sure he would travel to the worlds end for Aoi. He loved her, and getting along with her son was important for the both of them. Having Tadashi sitting by his side, made Ren sure that their relationship would work out just fine. He would die for his of children, and he would die for Tadashi.

Tadashi had a smile on his face again when Ash was saved by all the pokemons and came back into life. It was late for him, twenty minutes past his normal bed time. Aoi maybe scold him if she ever found out.

“Hey, want to watch another one?” Ren asked. Tadashi looked up at him and beamed.

45 minted after they started the second movie, Tadashi had long since dozed off against Ren’s side. The chips bowls had somehow made it into the couch and Ren was sure he needed to vacuum it in the morning. There were crumbs everywhere.

He set them aside, slowly, and tried not to jostle the nine year old too much. Slowly and carefully, he picked him up and carried him to his bedroom. He was careful when he tucked him in bed, not wanting to wake him up. When he messed up this action with his two older boys, they would always wake up and it would always time to fall back asleep.

Tadashi didn't wake, but he did roll over to hug his pillow on the side. His head wasn’t even on the pillow. Ren watched as Tadashi made some incoherent sounds in his sleep before he truly seemed to settle. This kid was truly a treat.

Ren tucked him in and went to turn off the lights, not before he pecked the boy on the head and ruffled his hair- like he did with his own two children. Tadashi would never know that he kissed him goodnight, and Ren was content with keeping this moment only to himself.

He glanced at the small boy once before he shut the door quietly.

Out in the hallway, Ren almost squealed in joy. He didn't. He didn't want to wake the sleeping boy, but he felt unbelievably happy when cleaned up after their little movie night.

The next day, Tadashi was still a little wary. Tetsurō and Eiichi had come home from their friends, and between filling in their dad on what they did on their sleepover and and bothering their shy little brother, the home was quiet.

“Tadaima.” Came the chipper voice of Aoi. Ren watched as Tadashi ran through the kitchen to get to his mother with his two elder brothers in heel.

“Okaeri.” Ren said and helped his girlfriend with the bags she carried.

“Is that gifts for us.” Tetsurō asked, and tried to peek into the bag.

“Tetsu-chan, don’t be noosy.” Ren chided them. He supposed their rowdy personality came from him, but it was still a little embarrassing. Especially since Tadashi was the opposite.

“Sorry, Otou-san, I just wanted to see my gift.” That was Eiichi and Ren reddeen with emmabressent,

“Boys, I am sorry, I don't have any gifts,” Aoi started. Tadashi was holding her hand and the five of them walked into the kitchen. “It’s just a cake and a few cookies I got from my family. I thought we could have them after dinner.”

Both boys shouted out a ‘yes’ and suddenly the bags weren't that interesting.

“Oka-san, wait here.” Tadashi started and held out his hands in a stop sign. He was oddly serious for his age. “I have something for you.”

Socked feet running was heard as Tadashi made his way towards his room. He came back moments later, carrying the two drawings they made together.

“Oka-san, I made a drawings for you.” Tadashi gave it to her, and then started tugging as his shirt as he waited for Aoi to inspect his art.

“Dashi, it is beautiful.” Aoi crouched down and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek as she nuzzled him closer. “I love, it. You even drew us in Tokyo.”

“Ren-san drew too.”

He felt startled. Aoi raised and amused eyebrow at him. Ren chuckled helplessly as he showed the drawing he made of all of them.

“Oh my, thank you.” Aoi said as she raised to her feet. She ruffled her son hair before she met his eyes. “Thank you. I love it.” She kissed him lightly on the lips before she made her way towards the fridge and hung both if her gifts up on the fridge. Oh so it was fridge worthy. What an honour.

“Yeah, me an Tadashi-kun made them together.”

Her whole face lit up. She knew he had been stressed over their relationship, especially since it seems that Tetsurō and Eiichi warmed up to her only after a few days of them living together.

“Did you guys really do that!” She smiled back at him, and Ren loved that smile of her.

Ren scratched the back of his neck and nodded. He smiled, remembering their night. “Yes, and we even watched pokemon.” He helped her pull up the items from the bag and place them where they belonged. “He even held my arm in the end when he got scared. Aoi-chan, Tadashi hugged me, willingly.”

Even Aoi looked surprised. “Wow, he really did that.”

Ren nodded so hard he might start to feel dizzy. He beamed back at Aoi. “Yes! I had to carry him to bed after he fell asleep.”

Aoi’s shoulder seemed to relax. She had reassured him many times since they moved in that Tadashi just needed to get used to his presence and him as a person. He had never known a guy that didn't want to hurt him, except for that Tsukishima-boy Tadashi chatted on and on about. But even Aoi had been worried about Tadashi’s wariness for his step dad. She still didn't want to force anything on him, that would only make the situation worse.

“I told you he would warm up to you.” Aoi said, and they both looked up the staircase as they heard Tetsurō and Eiichi inviting themselves into Tadashi's room.

“Yeah,” Ren sighed as he heard Eiichi’s loud announcement that the three of them would play Mario Kart. Leaving no room to say no. “We are going to make this work.”

He smiled as he heard his two boisterous boys dragging his timid one to their room to play their games.

They were going to make this work.

#haikyuu!!#HQ #haikyuu #yamaguchi tadashi #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo eiichi #nekoma!yamauchi #basically-i-write-shit #au #my writing #i am too deep in this au #yamaguchi

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hazusreaderinserts · 5 years

Text

Legacy [Naruto Reader-Insert]

You’re definitely a Yamanaka, aren’t you?

Family and Village secrets run rampant. All you wanna do is survive long enough to see Naruto become Hokage and to find out who you really are.

[Fem! Reader x Various]

Warnings: Long plot. Slow-burn. The slowest of the burn.

Crossposted on Wattpad and Quotev. Masterlist

Chapter 7 The curtain rises.

It's been three years since the Uchiha massacre, since the events that made your life crumble apart like a cookie crumbling in milk. You will gladly use another simile to summarize those three years but it had seemed so easy, you know? How a couple of events could just dismantle the life you knew in the span of a several months. Human life is just so fragile.

You never found out the cause of Shisui's death and after you confronted Itachi about his death that one time, he massacred his entire clan. You heard news. The entire Uchiha District, completely wiped out. Civvies and shinobi alike. Dead. His parents too.

The village shook at the news, but it was just swept under the rug. And people didn't seem to make a big deal out of it. Just a snap of a finger, and the main civvie population of the village just forgot that the Uchiha clan ever existed. The genin kids from civilian backgrounds never even knew the details behind the Uchiha, just that they were once a powerful clan in Konoha and one day, they were gone. Like you said, the big, pink elephant in the room was swept under the rug with relative ease.

In three years, all that the Uchiha clan stood for was forgotten. Their holiday stamped out from the map and renamed into the Festival of Fireflies. Their Clan grounds burnt to the ground, all that's left is just a shadow of the grandeur of the district that it used to have. All that is left of the Uchiha is a boy, a broken shell of what he used to be. The younger brother of the butcher himself, Uchiha Sasuke.

All the other clans panicked after realizing it was the prized prodigy of the Uchiha clan that lead them into their misfortune. You don't really know what the other clans did, but the Yamanaka reeled in the leashes of all the shinobi in service under their clan banner. You were not exempt from this. One of father's close aides shadows you around everywhere, and you couldn't skip Kunoichi class anymore. So you've been obedient in attending all your classes.

Everyone; the clan-sponsored orphans, kids of the branch families, staff of the Torture & Intel Bureau (it's a fact that everyone in there is in the palm and pockets of the Yamanaka Clan) and you, had to go under various psyche and mental health evaluations, provided by the Clan's best doctors and researches. Since the Yamanaka clan specializes in the mind and psyche, it makes sense that they have their own private research facility.

Beneficial pieces of research do trickle down to the General hospitals but most of the stuff that they are researching aren't really appropriate for medical use. ____

You sit there, by the side of brother's hospital bed, his meticulously bandaged up hand in yours. It wasn't as big as you remembered anymore, it was only half as big as it used to be. Your hands were no longer small and child-like, instead they are full of callouses and scarred knuckles.

The short sword that Shisui gifted to you is no longer in use, now a decoration. A reminder. A trinket of the past. You possess the hands of a fighter now, the hands of a shinobi. Your copious use of hand cream doesn't prevent the roughness of your palms.

Mother had to pry the white sword from his cold, clammy grasp when he checked in, courtesy of Hound. It now sits on a worn out weapon display beside the front door. You hear that it didn't want to leave brother's hand until Mother separated the cord-string from the hilt. Suddenly you are reminded of that time at the Deer Festival a couple years ago. You remember Brother's bright smile.

He's in a coma. Has been ever since Hound brought him back from the incident with the bright white light. He tells you that Brother skirmished with someone during the Uchiha Massacre.

Tears pool in your eyes as you tighten your grip on Brother's fingers. There is no trace of white in his hair anymore. And it's much more longer now.

The doctors and Mother says that there's no hope of him recovering. Your eyes grow hot and prickly at the thought.

You hear a rustle on your right and you wipe your hot, prickly eyes with one swift motion. Hound moves in his seat, turning a page of his orange novel. Three years is enough to change your perception of this man.

"Hound, stop reading your ero novels in front of a minor." You say, giving him a disapproving look.

"Stop calling me Hound then." He retorts with a lazy drawl. He looks tired. Like, you know. Tired. Like he’s aged a lot more than the amount of time that actually passed.

You just let out a sigh and turn your attention back to Brother.

Hound was a cold, effective and ruthless shinobi in the past and he showed it. This Hound however (he insists that you call him by his name) is lazy, tired, gives pathetic reasons whenever he's late (which is always) and a huge weirdo with a kink of reading dirty novels in public.

This Hound still has the qualities of his old self but he carries himself in a different way now.

"Hey Hound? "

"Don't call me that. What is it?"

"How long have you known Brother?"

Hound pauses to think, an eye veering to the upper left as he searches his memories. "About seven years, give or take." He counts down with his gloved hands, "Yeah seven."

Hound now wears his hitai-ate to cover his scarred eye and a Konoha-style flak jacket, instead of his ANBU clothing. Everything else is black or a dark navy blue. The wrinkles around his eyes are more noticeable now. When you say wrinkles you meant the creases. Not actual wrinkles. Though his silvery hair does give him an illusion of being an old fogey (if Hound knew you call him that sometimes in your head, he'd probably not be very amused).

Or maybe he's just tired, you can't tell.

You count mentally in your head if it all lined up and it did. Seven years huh. He stayed in Brother's shadow for seven years because of the sword. Seven long years.

Will he be your shadow you once the sword is yours? You didn't want to think about that. It's way too soon.

You know Hound visits your brother during the weekends and sometimes during his free time, which made him a good guy in your book. You also see him visiting the memorial stone if he's not there by Brother. You'd need to search it up later. His name. You kinda hate not knowing the identity of your future guard dog. And his abilities.

Hound audibly flips another page. Then the silence settles and the both of you just sit there. By Brother's bed. ____

Sasuke Uchiha is a completely different person now, you think as you observe his shurikenjutsu from the trees. He is no longer the bright, outgoing little boy with a very competitive streak. He is, however, still competitive.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

The shuriken bounces off each other and they change their trajectory to hit the square targets, all queued up in a straight line, one behind another. It's a pretty impressive feat to be able to bend all those stars and make all of them hit.

Sasuke lets out a breath of air that he had been holding and throws one in your direction.

You narrowly dodge it and jump down to a clear area beside him. Sasuke's expression turns unto a guarded one and you immediately put both of your arms up in a mock surrender. He looks into your eyes.

"Not here to ambush you, just wanted to ask you if you'd like to come over for dinner." This is the nth time that you asked him. You throw a punch at him and he catches it with his fist.

You are ambushing him, He thinks.

"How is your brother?" Sasuke asks after minutes of contemplation. He's deflecting, you notice. Two can play at that game. His grip on your clenched knuckles tightens and he twists hard, flipping you over to your side.

You press the issue even more, "I'll make your favourite." Your eyes show him how determined you are to get him to eat dinner at your place. You were more calm than Sasuke anticipated and your form flickers from his vision, only for you to appear behind him with a blade to his neck. Ah, you've gotten better at shunshin, he notes. The blade you're using isn't your family heirloom. Its Shisui's ninjato. His gift to you.

"No." His tone is flat and uninterested. Sasuke holds his breath. He didn't even hear the tachikaze. You've gotten faster. Sasuke holds out the handsign for Kawarimi and feels a pull on his entire body, his body pops out from a distance away. He replaces himself with a nearby boulder.

"Tomato pasta." Your tone is equally flat and uninterested. You focused as much chakra as you can in bursts with each step you take, angling your blade to pierce him.

"No." Sasuke deflects your blow with a kunai he pulls out from his pouch.

"Curry with tomatoes. Lots of tomato-" You swing again.

"No." He blocks. He drops his kunai and grabs your wrist with both of his hands. And uses the leverage he has to throw you over his shoulder.

"Grilled salmon with lots of tomatoes in your miso soup." You twist your body in the air and land on your feet, holding your blade up in a defensive stance.

He pauses for a second. Just a second. You know that you're getting to him. "Wrong type of fish. No."

"Onigiri with bonito flakes, sun-dried cherry tomatoes and grilled tuna with a large serving of tomatoes."

Sasuke's stomach let out a loud growl and you know you have him in the palm of your hand. "Y-yeah? I don't need your pity." He crosses his arms against his chest and you feel his hostility drop.

You just give him a sad smile, sliding your blade back into the sheath behind you. "He's fine, thanks for asking. Let's spar again after, okay? You can use that fireball jutsu you've been practicing."

Ah there it is, your true intention of inviting him over. You want him to help you out with chakra control, his is much more better than yours. At least this is much better than your other plans that involved threatening to let Ino loose on him.

"Heh, you've gotten better mouse." Sasuke's face transforms into a cynical smile. He catches on pretty fast. This time it held no condescending tone, not like that time he beat you down at the academy. He turns around and catches you off-guard when he knocks you to your back with his forearm pressed onto your neck.

And you did get better. All the books you studied about the psyche helped. And you knew his favourite foods. And what makes him tick. Or at least you think. Sasuke sees that you have that same look that you had back when you ran from him before the massacre. He caves in easy when it came to you.

"If I can't beat you in taijutsu, why not something that I'm good at?" You smile. It doesn't reach your eyes. The pressure of his arm is choking you.

Sasuke just lets out a soft heh and sighs, he gets up and drags you too your feet. He's known you for this long that he could pick up on your tells. And you made him feel somewhat normal, like the massacre didn't happen. For a while. The only person he has good associations with of his past.

"You're a big idiot. You'll never get better at taijutsu, you don't have the strength to parry most of my hits." He says. You know exactly what he's talking about.

He sticks his hands into his pockets and walks toward the direction of your house. You follow him wordlessly.

Sasuke finishes all the food that you cook for him, right down to the last morsel and lingers at your place a little longer after your spar (he uses the neck grab thing on you again, that bastard.)

____

You wake up with your hand outstretched towards the hilt of that blade in your house and you hear it sing. The sharp vibrato of the metal blade sings. It rings in your ears loudly, making you fall into a deep trance.

Then Mother's hand is around your wrist. She wakes you up by calling your name.

"It's happening again, " Mother lets out a shaky breath, "It's happening." The light from the moon shines on Mother in such a way that she looks more aged and tired than you last remember.

This isn't the first time it's happened. It started the night right after Brother checks into the hospital and the blade. You wake up all confused just standing there. Right before the sword.

She's mounted right up there, paper seals littering the outside of her wooden sheathe. And she sings, just like how she's singing now. Like she's calling out to you. To reach forward. To touch her.

Mother puts both her eyes around you and embraces you in tight hug. The one time she shows you motherly affection is after she made it sound like you were going to die. It's ironic.

"She's going to choose you. Of course she is. You're the only one left." Mother whispers under her breath. You aren't sure if she is talking to you or to herself.

"What's going to happen to me...?" All you could do is narrow your eyes into small slits, they were burning.. The helpless feeling from before bubbles up in your throat. You didn't have a choice then and you didn't have a choice now. There is never one, you realize that only now. For you, choice was always an illusion. Mother sits you down to tell you everything. And you are in for a long night. Finally you know why Mother and Brother both refer to the sword as Her.

____

You’re the last one to arrive in your class, with a large, white sword that’s way too big for you. The moment you enter the classroom, all eyes are on you. Ino sits at the middle-top row, mouthing angrily at you about 'Sasuke' something, something. Shikamaru and Choji are beside her. The Nara boy mouths something else at you, then shakes his head angrily before signing and gesturing at you with hasty hand motions. Talk later. Important.

Shikamaru had caved in and just learnt sign-language from his father because he was tired of whenever you weave your fingers in signs when you're angry and you didn't want to talk.

Choji just nods and gestures as if to say, what he said. The long talk from Mother still weighs heavily in your head so you just nod at their direction and you just slide into the nearest seat. Which happens to be in between Naruto and Inuzuka Kiba. Kiba wolf-whistles as you slide past, "Heyyyy Mousey, lookin' good." Akamaru, his dog, barks in affirmation. You choke audibly as your eyes widen. You are ten. He is ten. Everyone is ten. How on earth did he think that wolf-whistling a little girl is appropriate?! Granted that he is a dog boy, but that doesn't mean he has to behave like one. A blush rises to your cheeks as you hasten your movements. Naruto just greets you with a loud smile and wave. How can a smile be so loud? But that's just Naruto, everything about him is loud. Like his orange jumpsuit. "I meant your sword! Your sword!" Kiba emphasizes on the sword part in a whisper-shout and gestures at the blade by your hip, then turning away to the shy-looking girl beside him to chatter away, with a hint of pink on his cheeks. You just settle into your seat and ignore the two noisy boys beside you, one of them is trying to get your attention. Naruto chatters on about his dream of becoming the Hokage, which you doubt at this point, but you hold your tongue. Just smiling and nodding when appropriate. You don't think Naruto notices that you are kinda zoning out at this point.

You feel sorry that you aren't listening to the Uzumaki boy as much but you needed to think about the things that Mother finally revealed to you about the sword. which is yours now. Her weight is heavy by your waist, but you'll grow into her soon. The Uchiha boy sitting in front of you just smirks audibly with a loud heh. You know this is his way of laughing at you.

Iruka-sensei steps into the classroom five minutes later and begins his lesson. You sneak Akamaru a few pets before concentrating your focus on Iruka's particularly interesting lecture about chakra transformation.

#Naruto #naruto imagine #Naruto Reader-Insert #naruto reader insert #Multi-Chapter #multi chaptered #reader insert #reader-insert #x reader #anime #anime x reader #slow burn #Eventual romance #long plot #reader x various

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mrneighbourlove · 6 years

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Filling the Emptiness: Ch 3. In Each others Thoughts

Leere ran back home, the biggest smile on her face. She waved to Luimaya, the young princess walking back to her chambers getting ready for bed. “Hello dear!”

Luimaya smiled and waved back. She wondered why Leere was so chipper. “Hello auntie Leere. You have a good day?”

“I had the most excellent day. Go get lots of sleep. It’ll help for the day tomorrow!”

Rinku had only recently gotten back from her monster hunting trip. Seeing Leere though, her energy quickly returned. She was excited to hear how the date went. “Hey Sis! How’d it go?”

Leere fluffed the hair out of her eyes, her body slightly shaking from the excitement as she turned to Rinku. “Really, really well.”

Rinku paused. “You gonna see her again?”

Leere paused as well, and after a moment of suspense, slowly nodded her head. “Yeah.”

Rinku broke out into an excited scream, Leere joining her in giggles of wonder. “OH MY GOD! THAT’S AMAZING! I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!”

Leere laughed as Rinku spun her around. When her blonde sister got happy, she tried to express it with physical hugs.

“It went so well! She was patient and understanding with me. She also has the cutest accent ever!”

“Really? Tell me more!”

“She works for the Lon Lon Ranch. I think she’ll even inherent the whole business soon!”

“That’s cool! You got yourself an amazing catch!”

Covarog and Zelda came walking towards all the racket that was keeping them up. Their mother squinted her eyes at the two ladies. “What is all the commotion for?”

Rinku grinned to her brother and mother, giggling with excitement. “Leere’s got a giiiiiiirlfriend~”

Zelda held surprise on her face, her wrinkles squishing. “Really? Is that so?”

“Yes. Her name’s Sunny. She works at the Lon Lon Ranch and does so much work for the kingdom. She’s very passionate and has a kind soul.”

“Wait, is she Hylian?”

“Yes. Her family owns the Milk business. And we’re going to see one another again.”

Zelda took note of that. A tiny part of her always hoped Leere would come around to marrying a royal of Danjur, but the old Queen was still extremely proud of her daughter. She could see the passion Leere held as she talked about this Sunny woman.

Covarog ran up and gave his elder sister a deep hug, engulfing the tiny woman in his arms and chest. “I’m so happy for you! You finally found someone in your life!”

“C-Cov! You’re suffocating me!”

Taking Leere out of his chest she was red face as she caught her breath. Putting her down he patted her head. “Sorry about that. But seriously Leere, this is great! When are you bringing her over?”

That took Leere off guard. “W-what?”

Zelda nodded, agreeing with her son. “I’d very much like to meet her too.”

Rinku snapped her finger in agreement. “And Dad will want to see her too!”

Leere gulped. Ganondorf could have the potential to be a tad overbearing. “I-I’m sure she’ll love to come over when we have the time…”

“Oh come on, sis. Everyone would love to meet her! You aren’t embarrassed of us are you?”

Leere felt sweat drops as all three of them leaned in. The peer pressure made her squeak out a response. “N-no. Of course not.”

“So we can see her soon right! I want to met the woman who ensnared my sisters heart.”

Covarog grinned mischievously. “Careful Rinku. I think you might be ‘embarrassing’.”

Leere glared at her siblings. “You can see her soon. So stop being overbearing about it.”

“But what’s soon?!” Rinku was much older now, but she always held this free air about her, even now. When something was on her mind, it was hard for her to be patient about it.

“Soon-soon.”

The Zelda shook her head, pulling Rinku back by the scruff of her shirt. “We are all looking forward to it Rinku, but Leere needs sleep. In fact, we all do.”

Rinku sighed heavily and overdramatically. “But that will take forever. Surely you’re as excited as I am.”

“You beat I am.” Covarog rubbed his darker haired sister’s cheeks in teasing fun. “Our little Leere has grown up~”

“Covarog I swear to god, I will string up a body in your room. Somewhere.”

Covarog patted Leere’s back, chuckling in worry. “Oh come on, we’re all just having good fun.”

His sister waved her hand from her eyes to his. “Better watch out. I may be small, but I can still get you to scream any time.”

“Please don’t.”

“Both of you, enough.” Zelda shook her head. Even as full grown adults, they still acted to immature with each other. “Bed. Now.”

All three children nodded. Leere felt her smile return at going back to just thinking about Sunny. Rinku picked up on Leere’s energy and felt a deep happiness for her.

Sunny yawned as she awoke, stretching her limbs out. She had gained a good nights rest and her thoughts went to Leere as soon her brain started to wake up. She was going to be dating a princess. How insane a concept was that? Applying some fairy jell to her skin to keep it clear, she splashed some water to soak it in, and changed into her work clothes. Once she was prepared to conquer the morning, she opened her door to the rest of the ranch. It was a beautiful day out, and lots of work had to get done. She waved to a few of the other farmers letting the horses out of the stables to get some air.

Checking on the cucco’s first, she distributed enough bird seed for them all. The pigs received loathes of cabbages. Checking on the cows she found her brothers pumping out the milk.

“How’d your day go yesterday Sunny?”

“Really good Apollo. I had a date.”

Her second brother, Cosmo, shouted from behind his cow. “You did? With who? Some bar girl?”

Sunny giggled. “No. I had a date with Princess Leere.”

Both brothers exploded in shock. One of the cows mooed loudly as Apollo pulled too hard on an utter. “YOU HAD A DATE WITH WHO?!”

“SHE SAID IT WAS WITH THE PRINCESS!!!”

“WHAT’S SHE LIKE?!”

Sunny giggled more at their surprise. Checking the barrels and jars for milk were clean she continued her conversation with Apollo as Cosmo ran to get his other sisters. “It was really pleasant actually. She’s fiery, but also has a lot hurt in her heart. I don’t think she gets out often.”

“Isn’t she supposed to be really old? I saw her perform at the Brazier once, she looks really young instead. You think she has the same fairy products as you to keep her skin fresh?”

“Now Apollo. It’s rude to discuss a ladies age.”

“I’m just asking, geez. So how’d you meet?”

“At the milk bar actually.”

Cosmo burst in with his two sisters, Galexia and Luna. Galexia had finished stacking all the boxes to be shipped out to town, and Luna was cleaning returned milk bottles when their brother had ran in excitedly. Each one of them had gotten married by now, Galexia and Apollo even having kids of their own, but Sunny never managed to found anything that stuck. Between the job and her being gay, they wondered if she ever would.

Galexia stared in disbelief at Sunny from the news that Cosmo could barely get out. “You managed to date Princess Leere?”

“Yes. I did.”

“She’s gay?”

Luna, the youngest, nodded. “I saw her at a bar trying to hit on some of the waiters once.”

Sunny’s brothers and sisters gathered around. They wanted to know all the details. “Leere is a very interesting woman. She’s a real go getter.”

“So you said you both meet at the Milk Bar?”

“Y-yes. It was a fun night.”

Galaxia squinted her eyes as she read Sunny’s tone and expression. Her eyes exploded with emotion as she saw through her sister. “You slept with her?!”

The others reacted in a chain reaction as Sunny burned bright red.

“WHAT! NO WAY!”

“HOW COULD YOU JUST HAVE SEX WITH THE PRINCESS?!”

“OH MY GOD WHAT?!?!”

Sunny frowned as her younger siblings were losing their collective minds. “Yes. We had sex. Then afterwards, we planned for a date.”

Galaxia was utterly shocked that it could be that easy. “You sure it was really her?”

“Red eyes, dark hair, and pale skin. It was her Galaxia.”

Her sister took a moment to contemplate on this. “…Tell us more about her.”

“To be honest, a little weird, but I think there’s something special about her. Something good.”

Luna shrugged. “She can sing from what I’ve seen, but there’s something dark about her. Scary even.”

Sunny simply smiled. “I agree. But I also think people don’t look past her initial image to see something better. I don’t know how it will work out, but I have a good feeling.”

“You sure sis?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“You think you can balance dating a princess with everything else in life?

Sunny put her hands on her hips. “All of you are married, living happy lives. You didn’t have to continue working on the ranch, yet here you all are. We’re a family that can manage the biggest things thrown away. Our reach goes as far as the stars, and our passion for new desires burns as bright as the sun, and like the comets in the sky, our wishes can be seen right in front of us.”

The siblings went a little somber. That last sentence was a sentence their mother told them as children, a woman obsessed with space and the eternal beauty of the night. Sunny took a breath. “I think this is just another path open to me. Yes, I’ll be careful, but we’re all adults here. And just like I helped all of you with your love lives, I’ll ask if I need help myself.”

Apollo nodded, giving a light smile to his sister. “Ok Sunny. We can do that. Just wish I could something along the lines that if they hurt you, we’ll come after them. Hard to do when they’re a princess though.”

Sunny chuckled at her brother’s protection. “Duly noted Apollo. Now then, all of us should get back to work. We’re the Ingo Family! The hardest working family in Hyrule!”

Sunny was a born leader out of the five of them. After their mom died, she always did her best to guide her siblings down safe and happy paths. She placed her hand in the middle, her brothers and sisters nodding and putting their hands in with her. Throwing them up they cheered together. “TEAM LON LON RANCH!”

The five of them got to work. Sunny went to the horses, making sure they were fed and to give one of the workers a break. Wearing her sunflower hat she patted a red stallion’s side, who had apparently been spooked by something in the field. “♩ Easy, my child. Let your worries go. If you believe in me, I’ll make it so. ♩”

The horse calmed down to her lullaby, and followed Sunny back to the stables. As she was walking, one of the ranchers ran over to her. “Ms. Sunny! Mr. Ingo wants to talk with you!”

Sunny piped up, excitement filling her. “Ok! Take Pepper here back to the stable for me!”

The blonde woman ran to her father’s office, her braid flapping in the wind. Maybe this was her big chance!

Inside his office, Luigi Ingo ruffled her mustache as he observed the latest ratings. The Ranch and it’s outer branches had made a 2.3% increase in the last month. If only he could find that level of increase in his balding head. He smiled as Sunny came in. “Ah, Sunny! Working hard?”

“Of course Father!”

“Good. I want you to sit down dear.”

Sunny nodded and pulled up a chair. Her father took a deep breath as he took out a pen and paper. “Sunny. Don’t think I haven’t seen the effort you put into the ranch. You ability to keep up with deadlines is impressive, but I’m more impressed by your ability to keep moral up.”

Sunny kept calm, hopeful on where he was going with this. “I simply try to have everyone do their best, myself included.”

“That’s what I love about you Sunny. You have my sharp determination and heart, but you got your mother’s soul.” Scratching his head, he chuckled to himself. “Gosh. You look more and more like her everyday you know.”

“I know father.” Sunny gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“Now, with that said, there’s a business proposition I need to discuss with you.” He paused as Sunny braced herself. “I’m going away to observe the other branches. Lon Lon Milk has found success at the border of Danjur, as well as multiple ranches in Hyrule. Overseas, we’ve opened a branch in Termina.”

Sunny was taken aback by that. “Termina! You’re going to Termina?!”

“Yes. As the observer, I won’t be able to perform my duties as C.E.O. Which means I need someone far younger, outgoing, and intelligent to lead in my place.”

Sunny’s mouth hung open. It was really happening. “You mean me?”

“Yes. I do.” Her father smiled proudly at his little girl. Sunny would do just fine. “Do you accept?”

The woman nodded her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “Yes. Yes I do!”

“Good. Very good.” He held out two documents, his face more neutral than Sunny expected.

“What are these for?”

“Well, there’s a new policy. Our shareholders have a say in who is elected in as C.E.O. They can’t change the candidate at will, or take anyone out, but you need at least half of them in your favour to take the position.”

A board? Sunny never really looked into the political aspect of the job, always focused on taking care of the animals, the product, and the workers first and foremost. “Who are our shareholders?”

“The Hylian Royal Council. I’m a little worried given your… taste in lovers, that they might be prejudice against you.”

Sunny clasped her hands together and held them to her mouth. Her mind calculated on how she could reach the votes she needed. “That does complicate things, but I think I might have an answer to that.”

https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/180427678001/filling-the-emptiness-ch-2-sunny-days-ahead Previous Ch.

https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/183811908896/filling-the-emptiness-ch-4-in-love Next Ch.

#Leere #Sunny #Lesbian #Love story #Lon Lon Ranch #Legend of Zelda #Rinku #Covarog #Zelda #Happy New Years!

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ernmark · 7 years

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What do you think would have happened if Juno had gone with Peter in Murderous Mask?

I’m pretty sure this was meant to be a writing prompt, but I have too many feelings about this to put into fic.

(Honestly, I keep trying to write it into a fic, but it always leaves me so incredibly sad that I just can’t)

(I should note here that this is less meta than a weird mix of headcanon and character analysis. Your own interpretations may vary.)

Because Juno is head over heels for Peter, even after only knowing him for a few hours. They have great chemistry. They work so well together that they’re freakin’ drift compatible. He really, really, really wants to run away with him. The only problem is, it goes completely counter to everything Juno is.

So let’s start with that, shall we?

“My name is Juno Steel, and I’m a Private Eye.”

That’s his big identity statement. He says it in almost every single episode, and it’s the single most important part of who he is. In the galaxy that is Juno Steel, that’s the big glowing sun in the center. I’d argue that his duty to Hyperion City and his heroism are also part of that center-- a triple star system? Sure, we’ll go with that-- when one of those three points of light starts to dim, the other two keep him in orbit.

Now with that in mind, let’s look at Peter’s proposal in Murderous Mask:

You can leave Hyperion City behind; I’ll leave my powerful friends behind. We’ll sell the Mask and live a life of thrills and decadence across the Galaxy, always running, never looking back. We could have quite a time together, Juno. Who knows what kind of trouble we could cause?

The first thing Juno loses is his tie to Hyperion City. It’s the subject of most of Juno’s monologues, the mirror of his mental state, the thing he’s duty-bound to protect-- and as per Peter’s proposal, it would be left behind. That by itself would be a huge mental and emotional blow, but it’s not the only one.

“A life of thrills and decadence”; “what kind of trouble we could cause”; “always running, never looking back”-- there’s not a lot of alternative interpretations here. Peter is offering him a life of crime, and Juno can’t do that, not without surrendering the part of him that is a detective.

JUNO: I’ll help you stop this weapon. But at the end of the day you’re a thief, and I’m a guy who hunts down thieves, and that’s the end of it. (Train From Nowhere)

He’s willing to work with criminals, but that’s a necessity in a place like Hyperion City-- everybody’s a criminal here in one way or another-- but he’s still got standards. He’s willing to help Vicky protect her operation, but only so she’ll help him catch a murderer. He’s willing to help Peter steal the Egg of Purus, but only so it won’t be used on innocent people. On the scales inside Juno’s head, it still balances out on the side of Good. Juno strives to be a hero, and he punishes and berates himself when he fails to live up to that standard.

Sure, he could try for a Robin Hood kind of deal, but given Peter’s offer of “thrills and decadence”, that’s not what he has to look forward to.

I don’t doubt that he’d try to make their adventures line up with his moral code, but if he were to accept Peter’s original terms, that wouldn’t be possible. Peter loves Juno dearly and is willing to temper his behaviors for Juno’s sake, but that’s not his natural state. It’s honestly apparent every time he’s a main character in an episode, but it’s really hammered home in Train From Nowhere:

NUREYEV: (WITH LITTLE EMOTION; ALMOST BORED) Juno, turn away, please. I’m going to stab Mr. Engstrom to death now.

JUNO: What the hell are you doing?

NUREYEV: Something I’ll regret later. At top speed the the Ruby Seven should be enough to shatter that barrier, but… I’m afraid the paint will never be the same again.

JUNO: You can’t drive through those guards! They’re just doing their jobs! Quit it! You can’t kill them without… without a warning, or something!

NUREYEV: Juno! Quickly, shoot him! I can only hold him for so long!

JUNO (NARRATOR): Nureyev had Engstrom from behind. Pinned like that, Engstrom looked pathetic – an old man fighting an old grudge, a thief forgotten by everyone but himself. But Nureyev… Nureyev was the fox. Grinning. Teeth bared. A face like that had tasted blood before – and found it sweet as milk.

This isn’t new behavior, either-- Peter was casually murdering people by the dozen when he was sixteen years old, as we saw in Angel of Brahma. He just doesn’t think about human life or morality in general the same way Juno does.

Juno could fight for a moral standard-- and we know that if he did, Peter would make a token effort, at least. He does that, and we see a lot of it in Train From Nowhere: When Juno insists Peter ditch the car, Peter agrees to his terms; when Juno insists the security guards not be killed without a warning, Peter delivers a half-assed warning; he listens, though it’s very obviously only to appease Juno.

The big question is, would Juno even be willing to fight for it? (Hold onto this for a second, we’re gonna come back to it.)

Juno’s new guiding star: Peter Nureyev

Once again: by agreeing to leave with Peter, Juno would be willingly surrendering his duty to Hyperion City, his identity as a Private Eye, and the moral high ground that makes him a hero. With one decision, all three of his guiding stars are extinguished-- and by throwing it all away to run off with Peter, Juno would essentially put Peter at the center of his universe.

This puts an already emotionally unhealthy lady in an incredibly dangerous position.

We’ve seen what Juno’s like when he hasn’t solved cases in a while-- he swings between violent outbursts and listless inaction. He trades in his few scraps of self-worth in exchange for bitter self-loathing.

JUNO: You fell for it, Mercury, all the one-liners and the bragging and the swollen ego, you fell for it just as hard as I do. There was never a PI in Hyperion who made more messes per minute than me. Nobody. (Day That Wouldn’t Die)

JUNO: ...and if you’re really lucky, you might even see a Cyclops who thinks he’s a detective. My name’s Juno Steel. I’m a Private Eye… or I was, until recently. These days I’m a myth I never thought I’d live long enough to be: a has-been. (Kitty-Cat Caper)

This is all when he can still bolster his sense of self-worth by solving cases and saving people-- by things he can do.

But if you take that away and replace it with a person, suddenly Juno’s self-worth isn’t based on things he does, but of (his perception of) Peter’s opinion of him.

NUREYEV: I saw something in Juno Steel. Something impressive. And being that I myself am quite impressive that makes him impressive, too… but you? You’re a dog. (Promised Land)

This sort of thing is how people get trapped in abusive relationships. And no, Peter’s not an abuser-- he prioritizes Juno’s comfort and agency far too much for that-- but even a relationship with a loving partner can still turn dangerously toxic.

If Peter gets hurt on a heist, Juno will blame himself.

If something screws up and it was even remotely Juno’s fault, Juno will blame himself.

If the two of them fight, Juno will take Peter’s disapproval as evidence of his own worthlessness.

If the two of them aren’t fighting, but Peter just happens to be having a bad day of his own (or is lost in thought, or is slightly less affectionate than normal), Juno will take it as further evidence of his worthlessness.

So back to that question I asked before: would Juno be willing to put his foot down and demand that Peter not kill people? Initially, yes. But when he’s having a bad day, and his fragile sense of self-worth can’t stand up to Peter’s disapproval? Probably not so much.

Juno’s wit and stubbornness would slowly wear away, and he’d oscillate between a desperate need to please Peter, and overwhelming depths of depression any time those efforts fall even slightly short.

And meanwhile, those things that attracted Peter to Juno in the first place-- the moral outrage that Peter found so sexy, the defiance that he found so admirable-- would erode away into nothing, and the relationship would eventually fall apart.

Like I said, I don’t write fic about this sort of thing because it makes me too sad.

When I write about the two of them together, it’s generally in some vague future where Juno’s got a firmer hold of his emotional wellbeing, at least to the point where he can communicate his needs, and make compromises within a relationship without compromising his sense of self in the process.

#the penumbra podcast #penumbra meta #i guess?#headcanon #actuallyaghostthanks

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builder051 · 7 years

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#57 for mind-reader anon

So, in case you haven’t heard the story, this person asked for pretty much exactly this prompt before the prompt list was even posted. So here you have it, Steve taking care of Bucky on a bad day and running himself down to the point where he’s ill as well.

Powers/no powers.

Steve’s sleeping hard when he’s suddenly awoken by a sharp kick to the shins. “Huh? What?” he mumbles, body jolting with panic while his mind stays in the sleepy brush of time and date uncertainty.

Bucky’s arm flails across the bed and slaps the skin of Steve’s chest before shoving upward over his throat. The situation is blatantly apparent now; he’s having a nightmare, and an especially violent one, it seems.

“Buck,” Steve rasps, shaking sleep from his voice. He throws Bucky’s arm off him as gently as he can. “Wake up. You’re ok. You’re safe.”

Bucky mumbles something unintelligible. He thrashes against the mattress, and Steve struggles to get ahold of him. “Hey. It’s Steve. It’s me. It’s ok,” he says a little louder. “Wake up, ok?” He places one hand on Bucky’s shoulder and the other on his cheek.

Bucky jerks and his eyes snap open. His hand catches the side of Steve’s head as he thrashes again, confused and breathing heavily. “Get off me,” He grunts.

“Yeah, ok. I’m sorry,” Steve says, hurriedly moving his hands. “You ok? You know where you are?”

“Stop…I want to go home,” Bucky exhales. He’s conscious, but not yet truly awake.

“You are home,” Steve says, reaching out a hand and hovering it an inch from Bucky’s stump arm. “I’m here. You’re home.”

Bucky’s breath hitches, and he curls onto his side away from Steve. His body quivers and his shoulders contract up and down. At first Steve thinks he’s crying, but then the sound of strangled retching starts. Steve can’t help himself; he places his palm on Bucky’s upper arm. “Alright, you’re alright,” he intones.

Bucky coughs and struggles for breath. Steve slaps him on the back and positions him to lean over the edge of the bed. “It’s ok. Just let it up.” Vomit splatters onto the floor.

Finally awareness seems to set in. “Stevie?” It’s hardly a whisper.

“Yeah, Buck, I’m here,” Steve murmurs, smoothing Bucky’s sweaty hair back from his face.

“God, I’m sorry,” he breathes. He trembles up on his arm and his hip and turns himself around to burrow into Steve’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Steve soothes. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s trembling body and drops the side of his cheek to the top of Bucky’s head, wondering if the radiating heat he’s feeling is leftover sleep warmth or a fever. “It’s over now. You’re ok.”

“But…God. Stevie, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for having a nightmare,” Steve says. He looks across at the alarm clock on Bucky’s bedside table; the glowing red numbers show it to be just after one in the morning. It’s earlier than usual for Bucky to be up. But if the whims of fate aren’t going to let him sleep tonight, then god knows Steve won’t be sleeping either.

The front of Steve’s shirt feels damp, and Bucky heaves a congested-sounding, tear-filled breath. “It’s gonna be ok,” Steve whispers.

It takes ten minutes or so for the tears to die down to just tremors, and another five for Bucky to uncurl himself slightly from under Steve’s arms. “Feel a little better?” Steve asks, wiping a glistening tear track from Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky shrugs.

“Do you still feel sick?” Steve knows the nausea tends to linger, even though Bucky’s usually careful not to tell him.

“God…I don’t know.” Bucky digs the heel of his hand into the furrow between his brows, the uncontrollable shake in his fingers visible even in the dim moonlight.

Steve takes that as a yes, and pulls Bucky into the ensuite to sit on the closed toilet and stare into the depths of the trash can while he sees to the sheets and the carpet.

When the chores are done, Steve steps back across the cold tile and reaches for Bucky’s hand. His forehead comes to meet Steve’s ribcage, and Steve pets his hair down the back of his neck. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” Bucky mumbles. “I’m…confused.”

“Confused how?” Steve asks.

“Like…sometimes I…don’t remember you. Or I remember you all wrong.” His voice is raw with emotion and illness.

Steve sighs. He hates the nightmares. Hates the war, hates goddamn fuckers that did god-knows-what to Bucky, the only person that’s ever mattered so much to him. He hates that their actions have reached this far, getting him up at one in the morning to dispel tremors and clean up puke. But mostly he hates seeing Bucky so worn down.

“It’s ok, Buck,” Steve breathes. “It’ll come back once you wake up a little. And you can ask me questions. Whatever you want. I’m…I’m here for you.”

“I don’t know what I want.”

The weakness in his voice breaks Steve’s heart. “It’s alright, ok?” he says. “Just…just come back to bed.” It’s too early for everything. Steve knows neither of them are going to sleep, but neither of them are going to do anything else, either. All their usual activities like the gym, board games, and early breakfast seem inappropriate and distasteful.

The fresh sheets are cold when they crawl back into bed. Bucky tucks his feet under Steve’s leg and buries his face in his chest. His breaths are uneven, sending puffs of warm air through the thin fabric of Steve’s shirt.

They lie there for hours. The light of dawn is creeping through the closed curtains, and Steve’s almost drifting back to a state of soft unawareness when Bucky whispers, “Why’re you doing this, Stevie?”

It takes him a moment to process the words, then form his lips into an answer. “’Cause I…’cause I just love you.”

By 8:30 in the morning, Bucky’s cowering in an odd position, laying his chest over his knees and curling under the covers with his head in Steve’s lap. He’s not sleeping, but his eyes flick back and forth beneath closed lids. Steve’s asked him four times how he’s feeling, twice if he’s hungry, and once if he wants to get up. It’s getting to the point where they need to get up, or at least Steve does so he can call them both in sick to work and get a glass of water so he and Bucky don’t die of dehydration, but the non-committal sounds Bucky makes in response to the questions seem to indicate a mixture of no and I don’t know.

At 9:00 Steve’s phone rings. He scrambles to answer it before the loud tone carries on too long, and he does his best not to move the lower half of his body as he reaches backward to get the device off his bedside table.

“Hello?” he says, trying to keep his dry throat from making his voice overly gravelly.

“You coming in today?” It’s Nat, forgoing a greeting in favor of business.

“No, I was about to call. It was a pretty rough night. Buck needs a sick day.”

“You sure you’re not the one who’s sick?” Nat asks. “You sound awful.”

“Well…” Steve considers the fact that he barely got two hours sleep, and now he’s been awake for the equivalent of a full workday. Sitting upright is making his head throb. “I’m ok.”

“Take care of him,” Nat says. “And of yourself, Mr. I’m-always-fine.”

“Sure,” Steve says. Then, “Can you text Sam? Pass on the message?”

Nat agrees, then abruptly hangs up. Steve switches his phone to vibrate and sets it on the bedside table. He collapses back onto the pillows, letting the mild reverberations of vertigo play over his forehead.

“Buck. We should get up. Get something to eat,” Steve suggests. He shifts just enough to slide his thigh out from cushioning Bucky’s head.

“No,” Bucky whispers. “Stay.”

“I know you don’t feel good,” Steve soothes, “But you should come downstairs. You can sleep on the couch.”

“No, I…I want you to stay real…” Bucky murmurs, an edge of tears coming back to his voice.

The emotion hits Steve first, and he’s immediately crouched at Bucky’s side, hugging every inch of him he can reach, kissing the side of his face, and softly saying, “This is real. I’m not gonna disappear.” Bucky entwines his fingers with Steve’s and holds on tightly.

They make it to noon before Steve begins to feel like he’s dying. Bucky’s possibly asleep now, still clutching Steve’s hand, and breathing evenly and deeply. However small, it seems like an improvement.

Steve’s condition is deteriorating in comparison, though. The slight ache to his head has become a crushing boulder of pain between his temples. The back of his neck and the palms of his hands prickle with sweat, and his bones seem to have been turned to jelly. His body’s surpassed hunger and gone straight to illness.

He does his best to roll face-down so at least the bright daylight seeping through the edges of the window doesn’t burn up his eyeballs. Steve carefully works his fingers out of Bucky’s lax grip, cold perspiration making his skin tacky. It seems cruel to leave Bucky there with the possibility of waking up lost and alone, but Steve will be useless if he stays put.

Dizziness hits when Steve puts his feet on the ground, and he traces his path against the wall with his fingertips as he makes his way to the hall and trips down the stairs. Stars are starting to encroach on the corners of his vision.

His first stop is the junk drawer where they keep painkillers, and Steve drops a double dose of Excedrin onto his tongue. He uses the random coffee mug beside the sink to swallow down a quart and a half of water in eight-ounce increments. He’s on his seventh refill when a swallow gets lost halfway down his throat and comes back as a gag. A little water forces back up and splashes into the sink, but Steve’s pretty sure the pills he took are staying down. He crosses his arms on the edge of the countertop and drops his forehead, desperately hoping the throb stays at its current level and doesn’t morph into more urgent nausea.

After he’s breathed for a moment, Steve stumbles to the pantry. He inhales a protein bar, then dumps most of a box of banana nut granola into a plastic salad bowl. He’s pouring milk over the mound of cereal when vertigo catches him off guard and sends him stumbling sideways under an invisible pressure around his left ear.

The gallon of milk hits the floor first, making a sick glugging sound as it dispenses white liquid all over the floor. Then, the bowl falls off the counter in slow motion as Steve loses his balance. His hip hits the tile at the same moment the cereal does. The resulting clattering crash is loud enough to make Steve’s brain shake in his skull. And to carry a stirring sound from upstairs.

Steve presses his eyes shut in an attempt to block out at least one of his senses. Guilt would be overwhelming were it not for the intense pain in his head blocking out practically every other feeling. Footsteps slap down the stairs, and Steve’s heart palpates with the same beat.

“What’s…what’s going on?” Bucky’s voice has the heavy, almost drugged quality it tends to carry when he’s stuck in memories, unsure of how to interpret what’s in front of him.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles, finding a sitting position and scrubbing, wet, milky hands over his face. “Didn’t mean to…wake you up.”

“What happened?”

“Was…trying to get something to eat. I, uh…have a headache.”

“Yeah, you…look sick,” Bucky says. “You look like a kid.”

“Yeah, I was sick a lot as a kid,” Steve slurs, proud of Bucky for remembering, but also so finished with talking.

“Hm,” Bucky ponders. Then, “You’re, you should…I mean, I’ll clean this up.” He gestures down at the ocean of milk and cereal.

“Oh, no, if you’re still not feeling good,” Steve starts, using the countertop to haul himself to his feet.

“I’m kinda back to normal,” Bucky says. “A little…I don’t know, foggy, maybe? But you’re…you need to lie down.”

“No, I’m…” Steve’s about to say ok, but stomach growls and sickening vertigo assaults him at the same time and he just groans, “Oh, geez.”

“Go back upstairs. I’ll bring you up something,” Bucky says, already tearing paper towels from the roll.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Go.” He squeezes Steve’s shoulder as he passes, leaving damp footprints through the entryway on his way to the staircase.

Steve nearly passes out when he bends to get a washcloth out of the cabinet under the sink. Hardly a day with too little sleep and too little food and too much anxiety is taking such a toll on him, and he’s suddenly struck with how strong Bucky has to be in comparison.

Once he’s in clean clothes, Steve falls on top of the rumpled bedclothes, leaving his feet behind on the floor. He folds his hands over his face and breathes deeply until the door swings open and the yeasty scent of toast fills the room. It’s comforting, and just breathing it in pushes down the lingering nausea.

“Here,” Bucky pokes Steve’s cheek with the corner of a toast triangle.

“Be gentle,” Steve teases him, reaching out blindly for the food. He takes a bite. “Sorry I woke you up like that. I just, thought I’d get some painkillers and something to eat and run back up here.”

“It’s ok,” Bucky says. He sprawls on his stomach and cards his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I think…I kind of knew you weren’t going away. It was just…hard to believe it.”

“I’m gonna be ok,” Steve tells him. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yeah, I do.” Bucky says around a bite of his own toast. “Same reason you worry about me. I guess I just love you.”

#mcu #marvel #captain america #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #fanfic #fanfiction #sickfic #emeto #emetophilia #nightmares #migraines

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