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jawritter · 5 years

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Promised

Chapter 9

**Series Warnings!! ** ABO dynamics! Smut, unprotected smut, knotting, claiming, mating, heat, rut, language, overly protective Jensen, age gap! 19-year-old reader, 41-year-old Jensen, virgin reader, loss of virginity, sort of an arranged marriage, hint at possible mob type settings.

Story Description:

In a world where your presentation can be a blessing or a curse, a newly presented Omega will come face to face with the harsh reality of Alphas, Omegas, and pack alliances that are expected to be upheld with the union of your two families…

A/N: Pt.9!!! Please don’t copy my stuff! Feedback is welcomed! If you want to be added to the series tag list, or just my tag list in general let me know! Cross-posted on Wattpad! Hope you enjoy it!! This is my first ABO series so be nice lmao!

Word Count: 2133

Pairing Jensen x Alan Ackles, Jensen X Your Father, Jensen X Uncle David, Jensen x Clif, Jensen x Josh, Jensen x other OFC Characters Jensen x you (Eventually)

Missed it so far? Catch up!

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Jensen’s POV:

Jensen paced around his father’s office where his father, sister, brother, Clif, and a few other high ups in the Ackles pack tried to watch the security cameras to look for any sign of you coming out of the women’s bathroom. There was an outside entrance to the bathroom, and they figured that’s where the person or person’s had taken you when they left the bathroom with you. If you ever made it there.

Jensen couldn’t stop the growls falling from his lips as he eyed the security tapes. David Y/L/N was tied to a chair across from the large oak desk that they were all standing behind.

“Alan, I swear I don’t know what’s going on! If I knew where she was I’d tell you! I have no part in this you know that!!”

“I don’t know anything at this point, David, either way, this is a good lesson for you. This happened to my son’s Omega because of a male in your pack. So you need to learn there for that you are responsible as a pack leader for actions like these,” Alan stated calmly, not looking up from the computer screens.

One glare from Jensen and David shut up really quickly.

“There!!” Clif yelled, making everyone in the room jump.

There, on the video, was a man carrying you thrown over his shoulder toward a black SUV. Throwing you inside, before pulling out of the parking lot in a hurry.

Jensen wanted to cry, scream, and throw shit all at the same time. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he wanted to do something.

“I recognize him. That’s one of Y/D/N bodyguards. Looks like Y/N’s dad was to damn chicken to come to do the dirty work himself. So he sent his bodyguard to do it for him.” Clif said. Typing away on his computer.

“I can pull up the traffic camera footage and see which direction he went in, me and my men will start the hunt from there. We’re gonna find her Jensen.” Clif said, he’d been Jensen’s friend for a long time now, and he could see Jensen was just about to snap.

“If her dad wasn’t here himself, then where is he?” Jensen snapped, crossing the floor in only three strides of his long legs, and hoving over David with malice written across his face.

“Hom,e last I check,” David said, too fearful of what the Ackles was going to do to him at this point to withhold any information he might know. Y/D/N got himself into this, he can get himself out of it. Though by the look on the Alpha’s face standing directly in front of him he didn’t see his brother getting out of this alive.

Jensen reached up and hit David hard enough to knock him out. He had, had just about enough of looking at his face, and didn’t want him to hear what he was about to say next.

“I’m going to her dad’s, and one way or another he's going to tell me where he’s keeping my Omega, and why.” Jensen snatched up his jacket and went to go out of the door.

“Stay here son, we will have him fetched. I’ve already sent a detail to have him removed from the home, remember there are innocent people in there with him. We don’t want to cause them any harm. They have no part in this. Let’s just deal with the source.”

Alan’s voice was calm, but his eyes held the same rage as his sons. He hated to see his son in this much distress. He always had a soft spot for Jensen, and everyone in the family knew it. Now, looking at him this desperate, it made his blood boil.

“What if we don’t get to her in time Dad? We’re wasting time!” Jensen yelled, frustration getting harder and harder to control.

“He’s been collected. He should be here within five minutes.” A young Alpha Jensen didn’t recognize stood just inside his father’s office door and announced. Alan thanked the young man, and he excused himself quickly.

“Her father is on his way here. We will get to the bottom of this son. She’s going to be just fine.”

Just as Jensen was about to argue the point, Josh cleared his throat from across the room. Making all heads turn toward him.

“Jensen, your Omega was wearing a mating collar wasn’t she?” he asked, approaching his brother cautiously.

“Yes,” Jensen said, obviously not following his brother’s train of thought.

“Where did you purchase it?”

Jensen stood there thinking for a second getting annoyed with the twenty questions when his Omega was out there and in danger.

“From the family jeweler here in Dallas. Same place you all got your Omega’s there’s.”

A smile broke out over his brother's face.

“Jensen, the reason we have those collars made at that particular place is because they put tracking devices inside the collars. If we turn on her GPS locator on her collar we can find her down to the street! It will just take about 30 minutes to get it all up and running.”

Jensen stood there stock-still in the middle of the floor.

“What if they took it off of her? Threw it somewhere random on the way.”

The room was so still you could hear a pin drop. All eyes on Josh and Jensen.

“They can’t. You are the one that put it on her. It would take your fingerprints to release the clasp. There’s no way they could get it off of her.”

Just as Jensen was about to open his mouth and tell them ‘well what the fuck are you waiting for’ the door opened. The young Alpha poking his head just inside.

“Excuse me, sir. Y/D/N is here. He’s locked down in the basement.”

Alan turned to Jensen.

“Go, get what you can out of her father. Do whatever you have to do. I’ll take care of the rest…”

A look of understanding crossing between father and son that was enough to make a cold shiver run down everyone in the room’s spine. “We will track down your Omega, and then come and retrieve you when we have her location.”

Jensen nodded and followed the young Alpha to the door of the basement. Where he opened it for him and stood aside. Letting Jensen descent the stairs on his own.

Jensen was livid. His eyes flashing red in intervals as he descended the stairs. Taking off his white dress shirt at the end of the stairs, and hanging it there. leaving him just in his undershirt and slacks. He could hear y/n father cursing at him, and everyone else in the house as he rounded the corner. Seeing the man tied to the chair.

“Hello Y/D/N…” Jensen drew out. Y/N's father stopped yelling immediately.

Staring down Jensen like if he could kill him with his bare hands he would.

“You know Jensen all this is your fault! If you would have just taken your rightful place in your pack you would still have your Omega right now, but since I can’t have what I want, you can’t have what you want. Simples as that.” The smile that spread across his face made Jensen’s vision go red, and his stomach churns all at the same time.

“You will tell me what you did with y/n.” He said, Leaning over the man that was tied to the chair.

“Oh really I am, and what makes you think I would do a thing like that?” He mouthed back.

Jensen didn’t have time to think before his first made contact with the man’s mouth. Blood running down his now busted lip.

“Let’s try that again.. Where is my Omega?”

This time the man said nothing. Just sat there staring at Jensen, a sinister smirk spread across his face.

“You know, before I came here tonight with Y/n I promised her something…. I promised her I would protect her. You made me break that promise.. I don't appreciate that. I’ll be spending the rest of my life making it up to her….”

Jensen’s vision was starting to go completely red, he was losing what little bit of control he had left. His temper was getting harder and harder to control, and he knew if he kept up this little game he was going to lose it.

“Mr. Ackles! We found her! They’re holding her in an abandoned warehouse down by the lake.”

The young Alpha happily reported to his elder in the pack. Jensen nodded his head.

“Give me two minutes... “ he said, his eyes never left Y/N’s father, and he knew by the look on his face that it was y/n’s true location.

“You know Y/D/N, I made Y/n another promise. This one I intend to keep. What to know that promise was?”

Jensen leaned over the chair. Holding either side of the man’s shoulders.

“What’s that?” he tried to sound cocky, but it was laced in fear.

“I told her if you tried anything I’d rip your throat out….. With my teeth…”

Jensen’s vision went red, All he saw was red…

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Less than an hour later Jensen’s SUV in the lead, the convoy pulled up to the old warehouse where y/n’s GPS was showing her location.

Jensen jumped out of the SUV before the car even fully came to a stop. Running into the building. Calling for his Omega, praying with everything in him that he wasn’t too late…

He went from room to room. Searching, and so far nothing, no guards, no nothing. Fear gripped him deep in his gut. What if they had it wrong? What if she wasn’t here?

Then just when panic pulled at the corner of his subconscious, he did what she should have done instead of running around like an idiot. Stopping the stilling himself. Taking a deep breath, at first nothing. His heart sank in his chest, but he tried again. Taking an even deeper breath, walking a little deeper into the warehouse.

That’s when he caught it. Her scent, he would know it if he was clinically dead….

Running toward the upstairs office looking room he began to pound on the door. He could smell her stronger now, he knew she was in there. She just had to be.

Finally, with one kick of his foot the door caved, and swung open hitting the wall hard.

At first, he didn’t see her, then as his eyes adjusted to the darkroom walking around the desk following his sense he found her. Laying on the cold hard ground of the warehouse office floor.

Falling to his knees he didn’t know much after that. He remembers screaming for his father. He remembered the paramedics rushing into the warehouse where he was sitting on the floor with her cold body pressed to his as tight as he could hold her.

He remembered his father and his brother having to hold him back while the paramedics looked her over.

He remembered all of this, but it was like walking through a clouded blur.

Finally, a young Omega girl dressed in a paramedics outfit came to stand in front of him and addressed him directly. Jensen shook himself hard enough to pull himself out of his fog. Even though it was hard.

“Mr. Ackles, your Omega is going to be just fine. She’s just sedated. We can’t even find an injury on her. We want to take her to the hospital of your choosing so she can be monitored while she sleeps off the sedative, and maybe they can give her something to counteract it.”

He stood there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Relief flooded his system as he processed the news that his Omega was going to be okay.

“Mr. Ackles? Do you want us to transport her to Dallas…”

“NO!” Jensen snapping back to himself jumped up to his feet. Even though the threat had been handled. He didn’t want to stay in Dallas. He said he was going to take her home, and that’s what he intended to do.

“Take her to Austin State Hospital.” Jensen said. Walking over to the medical gurney that they had loaded y/n onto. His heart clenching in his chest at the sight before him. He wanted more than anything to crawl into the gurney with her and hold her more than anything else in the world.

“Mr. Ackles… That’s a long drive from here…” The young girl said. Afraid to confront the Alpha who was obviously distress about his Omega and her current state.

“Don’t worry about it. We will just call in a med flight. With a chopper, we can have them both there within the hour.” The older paramedic said. Walking out of the warehouse ahead of the gurney and Jensen who was holding as tightly to Y/n’s hand as he could.

“We’re going home, sweetheart. We’re going home…”

Tag List:

@deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0

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jamesedwinstark · 3 years

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Okay, as promised I am posting the James noncon. There'll be 2 posts.

I wanna be SUPER CLEAR that this is NOT CANON. This is just a horrible "what if" scenario that I needed to vomit onto a page.

The concept here is that Justin Hammer is holding James hostage. He infected a number of his employees with nanites that will kill them if James doesn't do everything Hammer says. James also has nanites in him which monitor his behavior and make it so he can't call for help.

The first thing Hammer wants to do with James is... go on a date. This is the date.

I’ll pick you up around 8. Wear something slinky ;)

That was the text James had received a few hours earlier. After days of waiting, of trying to pretend nothing was wrong, it was finally happening. James didn’t know if he was glad to get it over with, or if he wanted a few more days of relative normalcy. In the end, it didn’t matter what he wanted. He’d do as he was told.

It was best to get ready like it was a normal date. James picked out an outfit he thought counted as ‘slinky’: a long-sleeved shirt with cut outs in the back and on the shoulders, cropped so it showed barely an inch of midriff, pants which clung to his butt and drew attention where it was needed, and boots with just a little heel, accentuating his legs. He was supposed to be a trophy, not a whore. Right?

Clothes at the ready, James sat down at his vanity. He made up his face on autopilot, not doing anything special; it wasn’t as though this was Valeria or Loki, people whose preferences he knew intimately, who loved him, who he really wanted to please. He wished either of them were here.

While digging through his lipsticks, James pulled out a tacky, pink glitter gloss. He considered wearing it. It suggested youth, naivety, innocence. It said, “set me free; I’m just a kid.” That doesn’t matter. It only matters whose kid you are.

Well, the pink was worth a shot. James never knew what little thing might give him an advantage. He picked out some earrings inlaid with pink gemstones to match.

As he applied the gloss, his phone buzzed. He waved a hand and a screen popped up in front of him. He’d been mentioned in one of his groupchats, specifically the one for former Young Avengers, which he’d been invited to join in an honorary capacity, having spent a decent chunk of his childhood as something of a team mascot. He tapped the notification.

TEDDY: Hey! @James, some of us are heading to a bar, wanna come???

KATE: Jimmmminmy!

ELI: Wr already got satarted

TEDDY: Kate already got started

TEDDY: Yeh, lmao ^^

TOMMY: Jimmy ger Dow. Here and I’ll find u and unstable girl

BILLY: Guys, he doesn’t like being called Jimmy. Plz use his full name

BILLY: Jimbo come hang out with us

A tickle in the back of his head told him that the nanites in his brain were on high alert.

JAMES: As much as I love watching you get trashed and butcher my name, I can’t tonight

KATE: Booo u whoree!

DAVID: Plx help me jim I’m not drunk enough for this

James sighed. The point was for people to know about it, so he may as well say something now.

JAMES: I actually can’t. I have a date :)

The smiley face felt a little forced, but that was probably just projection. Nobody would question it. He was supposed to be excited. It was supposed to be believable.

BILLY: Oh

BILLY: Ok

BILLY: Have fun :)

TOMMY: Lmao seriously tho do ew even wana kno who is it THIS TIME

James clenched his fist in front of his face, and the screen disappeared back into his phone. Even his own friends thought he was an idiot when it came to love. Because you are. You deserve this.

There was almost an hour where James was dressed and ready to go, just pacing around his apartment, waiting. As the minutes stretched on, the nervousness twisting up his insides heightened. It’s no big deal. It’s just a date. Not even, it was a con, just for show. All he was doing was working a mark, playing a role. He was good at that. This would be fine.

He checked his phone when it buzzed again at 8:34.

Car’s waiting. Hurry that cute little ass down here

James took a deep breath, grabbed his coat and headed out the door. While taking the elevator down, James replied.

On my way

There was a white limo parked outside James’ building. James knew it was where he was expected to go, because it radiated a nervous, vicious excitement that made him dizzy. As he approached, the driver stepped out and held the door for him. He had nothing but contempt for James.

“Thank you.” James told him sweetly, flashing him a demure little smile. The driver’s contempt was eaten away slightly by another, even less comforting feeling: pity. He wondered how much, if anything, the driver actually knew about what was going on.

Justin Hammer was waiting for him inside, and if he’d been any happier he would have been bouncing in his seat. The inside of the car smelled a little too strongly of Hammer’s cologne. James sat down across from him and Hammer looked him up and down appraisingly. He was… disappointed. Oh no.

“Is that what you decided to wear?” He asked.

James looked down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I mean, would it kill you to show some more skin?” Hammer whined. “I thought you kids wore skirts now.”

A skirt suggested something. Easy access. Hammer wanted people- James’ Dad most of all- to see James’ bare thighs and know who was getting between them. It seemed that he had been wrong; he was supposed to be a whore.

“I’m… sorry.” James said. “I didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

Hammer sighed. “I think I’d better take a more hands-on approach to your outfit choices from now on.”

“If that’s what you want.” James acquiesced.

“When we get to the restaurant, there are going to be paparazzi.” Hammer explained, barely acknowledging that James had spoken. “I may or may not have tipped somebody off. You're gonna put on a good show for them, alright? I wanna see a big smile on that pretty face. Really sell how infatuated you are with me.”

James huffed. “I know how to play my role, Hammer. This is what I do.”

“Come on, sweetheart. We're in love.” Hammer said, unpleasantly pleased with himself. “You can call me Justin.”

“I was planning on doing that in public.”

“Well, I want you to do it all the time.”

That was all that needed to be said on the matter.

The car pulled up to the restaurant, and Hammer stepped out first. He held the door for James, making sure that the paparazzi who had indeed turned up saw him doing so. James played his part, put on a cutesy smile and batted his eyelashes as he got out of the car and wrapped himself around Hammer’s arm. As soon as he did, he felt Hammer get frustrated, and saw him glance down at James’ shoes. James was already an inch or two taller, and the slight heel made that little bit of difference all the more noticeable. He’d already messed up again. This might be a little more difficult than he thought.

The handful of paparazzi that had gathered and were being ushered away, unhurriedly, by the restaurant staff, barked questions at James, which he ignored. Their camera drones buzzed perilously close to get good shots of the absolute travesty of a date they were witnessing. James could practically hear the nasty headlines they were concocting in their heads about him and his wonderfully tabloid-worthy habit of getting into bed with the ‘wrong’ sort.

They were at the door when James got the sense of someone else trying to get his attention, but not in a mean way. He heard a child ask, “Is that really him?”

James turned on his heel to see a woman with a little girl, maybe five or six, looking at him. They both got very excited when they realized he’d noticed them. Abandoning his annoyed date, James jogged over to the pair.

“I’m really sorry to bother you Mr. Stark, but we heard you were going to be here and…” The woman began sheepishly, “You’re her favorite.” The little girl buried her face in the woman’s pant leg.

James laughed, sincerely this time. “I always have time for a young lady with such impeccable taste.” He said, before getting down on the little girl’s level. “I’m James, what’s your name?”

The little girl looked up questioningly at the woman- presumably her mother- before replying “Sarah.”

The paparazzi took some interest in what he was doing, but they weren’t as thrilled about it. Local Superhero Nice to Child wasn’t as attention-grabbing a headline as Cap and Iron Man’s Son Does Something Awful, Again.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sarah. Did you know Sarah was my grandmothers name?”

The little girl shook her head.

Hammer was getting exponentially more annoyed by the second, but he couldn’t exactly drag James away from a little kid in front of all these people. Not without looking like the second coming of Ebenezer Scrooge anyway. Still, James didn’t want to push his luck, he had to wrap this up quickly.

“Are you really the Golden Avenger?” Sarah asked.

James snapped his fingers, and a shower of yellow sparks spilled from his hand. “I sure am.”

Joy erupted in Sarah’s chest like fireworks. “We’re the same!” She squeaked.

“She has epilepsy.” Her mother explained. James nodded.

Seeing that Sarah’s ears were pierced, he took the pair of star-shaped pink sapphire studs out of his ears and pressed them into her hand.

“That’s for you. Wash them before you wear them; it’s not sanitary otherwise.” James said. “Now, Sarah, this is important. I believe in you, I want you to believe in yourself, and always, always listen to your parents. Do we have an understanding?”

Sarah nodded.

James hurried back to where he had left Hammer waiting, feeling the impatience directed his way. As soon as he was close enough, Hammer grabbed him, clamping a hand firmly on James’ butt (which the paparazzi adored) and dragging him inside.

“I know that wholesome image is how you sell lunchboxes and all,” Hammer hissed in his ear, smiling as he did so, “but don’t keep me waiting, ever again. You got that?”

A thousand explanations and protests died on James’ tongue. While talking to the kid, he had briefly forgotten that someone else owned him. Briefly.

“I got it. I’m sorry.”

Once they were inside, James shed his coat. Seeing his exposed back made Hammer a little happier with James’ outfit. It was almost… uncomfortable how much happier seeing that skin made him. James brushed it off as just more of Hammer’s weird overenthusiasm.

“Is this more what you were thinking in regard to the skin thing?” James asked. He kept his tone light. “Specifically mine and showing more of it.”

“It’s definitely better.” Hammer agreed.

This was good. If they could get along while fake-dating, eventually Hammer would have to start seeing him as a human being. He would like James, if only James provided the camaraderie Hammer had always craved from James’ Dad, camaraderie which had always been denied to him. Then he’d let James go.

The maitre d’ seated them by a window, which meant more pictures of them together, and more acting for James. While they were across from one another, Hammer fixated on James’ eyes. He didn’t seem to be able to stop looking at them. You didn’t have to be a super-genius to figure out why. You just had to look very, very similar to one.

Nobody brought them menus.

“I took the liberty of ordering ahead of time.” Hammer boasted. “I’m gonna take good care of you tonight, don’t you worry.”

Again, James got a weird reading from Hammer. Something in the back of his head was trying to warn him about something. Danger, James Stark! Danger! Danger! Well, of course he was in danger, somebody else had his life in their hands. It’s more than that, don’t be stupid.

The waiter brought out their meals. James’ was not something he recognized as food, but he’d never been much for fancy cuisine. He’d survived this long mostly on chicken nuggets and takeout. Still, he picked at his dinner, not wanting to seem like he was ungrateful or that he disapproved of Hammer’s choice. He remembered what his Pop had told him about growing up in the Depression, and all the garbage they’d choked down trying to survive. I was 25 before I realized sawdust wasn’t actually an ingredient. If Pop could do that, James could work through something that had been meticulously crafted by a trained chef. Don’t be spoiled. You’re an Avenger, not a princess.

“Do you prefer red or white wine?” Hammer asked. “I know the sommelier personally. She’ll get us some of the good stuff.”

“I can’t drink.” James said, and when that led Hammer to get irritated, he explained, “Because of my condition.” It still wasn’t good enough. “But, I suppose one glass won’t kill me.”

The sommelier who poured their drinks was nauseatingly gracious to Hammer, but James could tell that she didn’t actually like him. Just has the driver had done, she regarded him (internally, of course) with contempt. James started feeling a little bad for Hammer; everyone around him was so fake.

Hammer raised his glass. “To us.”

Oh my gosh he can’t be serious. James raised his glass in answer, smiling through the pain of secondhand embarrassment. Having never really had more than a few sips of alcohol at any one time, James was unused to the taste of wine. It was nasty. He powered through it. People actually drank this stuff for fun? All it did was remind him that, right now, his friends were getting sloppy wasted on any number of unpleasant-tasting concoctions. He was supposed to be there, not here.

“Babe, has anyone ever told you you don’t talk much?” Hammer asked.

“I can honestly say nobody has ever said that to me in the history of my life, no.” James replied.

“It’s something you should work on.” Hammer continued as if James hadn’t spoken at all. “And smile more. Jeez, kid, you’re bumming me out, you know?”

James grinned. “Right, cameras are still on us and all.”

“And you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

He wants it to be real. Give him what he wants. “Yeah, of course.” He wants it to be real. Why did that sit so uneasily?

“This isn’t the sort of place I’d take just anyone.” Hammer gestured around at what was, admittedly, a very classy place. “This is the five-star treatment. It’s just for people I really want to undress.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“It’s for people I really want to impress.” Hammer leaned in. “You’re a very special kid. I’ve been waiting a long time to get my hands on you.”

Hammer was feeling at him very, very intensely. It was like being in a sauna, having him so close and emitting the thrill of power he was getting from all this. Power and… something else.

James laughed, clear and seemingly unforced. “I guess you’ve got me.”

“I guess I do, don’t I?” Hammer leaned back and just reveled in it for a moment. What he was feeling made James little ill. James took a drink of water. It was getting oppressively hot. Hammer was getting oppressively hot… for… James.

He was aroused. This, holding James hostage, hurting his Dad, was making Hammer horny, and he had James right here… he could do anything he wanted. He wants it to be real. How real? How real was he going to make it?

Hammer started talking at James, telling him about some impressive thing he almost certainly hadn’t actually done. James only half listened, his mind was occupied, trying to peel back the layers of Hammer’s intention like he’d been taught to do. Find and identify all the tiny little things Hammer was feeling at a given moment. His attraction was superficial, the real source of his arousal was the sense of ownership he had, of victory. It led to feelings of excitement, anticipation, expectation… certainty. He was certain.

"Excuse me, Justin." James tittered during a break in the ‘conversation’. His smile felt like it would crack his face. "I need to go powder my nose."

Hammer took a sip from his wineglass. "Ok, you can go. Don't take too long, though." Again, that sickening rush washed over him. "I want to get out of here soon."

James hurried away from the table. Soon. His vision blurred the second he stood up, so he navigated his way towards the bathroom mostly through magic. Once there, he clung to the nearest sink for support. Trying to combat the intense nausea that had overtaken him, he splashed cold water on the back of his neck. It was no use. Throwing himself into the nearest stall, James retched violently and puked up what little he had eaten. Cold, clammy sweat started to bead on his lip and the back of his neck.

He's going to rape you. It was not a matter of if. He was going to do it, certainly.

James really was stupid to think it would be anything but this. Why would Hammer be content with just letting everyone think he and James were lovers, when he could make it a reality? This would be the ultimate victory over Tony Stark: raping his baby.

James needed his Daddy. He needed to be rescued, to be held in strong, safe arms like he was a child again. He needed what was about to happen not to happen.

It was going to happen anyway.

Too much time had passed. James got up off the bathroom floor and brushed off his knees. He went to the sink and swished water around in his mouth, getting the acrid taste of vomit mostly cleaned away. This is going to happen to you, and you're going to let it. You'll be fine. You're a survivor. Stark men are made of iron.

He touched up his makeup, dried off a little and, as ready as he'd ever be, headed back to his table.

"There he is! I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep in there." Hammer remarked as James returned to his seat. Hammer was expectant. What was he expecting? Was that supposed to be a joke? It was. James giggled. His mouth was so dry. He sipped at his water. Even that made his stomach turn a little.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh right..." Hammer continued his anecdote in between bites. James smiled and nodded sweetly, his own dinner rendered inedible. He kept trying to get water down, but nothing seemed to help the thick sticky feeling on his tongue and down his throat.

His left hand was clenched in a fist under the table. I could burn a hole right through you just by staring. I could cook your brain in your skull with my fingertip. I could... golly, I really could beat you bloody with my bare hands.

"You're not eating?"

James fluttered his eyelashes. "I guess I'm not very hungry." He explained.

"So you don't want dessert?"

"No thank you."

Hammer's excitement hit James like a freight train, but it wasn't normal excitement. It was all twisted and wrong. He reached out and grabbed James' hand, running his thumb over James' knuckles in a gesture that, from the outside, might appear tender.

"That's ok. You and I are going to have a different kind of dessert. Doesn't that sound good?"

James swallowed thickly, eyes trained pointedly at the middle distance. His smile faltered just a little, and when he spoke, his voice was small, barely audible.

"Yes." He nodded weakly. "Yes."

How exactly they got from the restaurant back to the car, James wasn't sure. He seemed to drift, only barely aware of his coat being wrapped around his shoulders, paparazzi snapping his photo as he stepped outside, the car door being held open for him while he was ushered in like a curious child into an unmarked white van. Smile. You're having a great time. Hammer clutched him every step of the way, as though James were a fish caught in his talons which might slip back into the ocean and swim home before he could devour it.

In the car, Hammer sat next to him, practically right on top of him. James’ stepford smile dissolved the second they were alone together, but Hammer didn’t seem to have noticed. His hand was on James’ knee, inching up his thigh, as he whispered in James’ ear.

“I booked us a room uptown.” He was close enough that James could feel Hammer’s breath on his neck. “I thought we’d do something a little special for our first time.”

“Justin, nobody can see us.” James knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he had to try something. If he made it seem like he didn’t understand, he could say no without actually saying ‘no.’

Hammer’s joy evaporated, replaced with white-hot rage. He gave a short little laugh. “Now, baby, I took you on this nice date and all. I’ve been a real gentleman, and I just think it’s fair,” He squeezed James’ leg painfully hard, “that you put out. Nobody likes a tease.”

“...Ok.”

The anger didn't subside, and James was terrified of what might happen if he let Hammer stay too mad for too long. He plastered a smile back on his face.

“I can't wait.” Was his voice shaking? Had it cracked? “I can’t wait to make love to you.”

His heart was racing. He'd said it, and now he couldn't unsay it. He couldn't stop hearing his own words echoing in his head. Make love. This was the furthest thing from love he could imagine.

The hand on James’ thigh slid up to paw at his groin, and Hammer leaned in to kiss him on the neck. He sucked at the skin there (stop it) like he was trying to leave a mark (don't), and, honestly, he probably was (get off of me). James wanted nothing more than to blast a hole in the car and rocket into the night sky. He reached out, laid a gentle hand on the back of Hammer’s neck and pulled him ever so slightly closer.

“Yeah, good, Tony.” Hammer moaned against his neck. “Just like that.”

James clenched his eyes shut. It didn't seem like Hammer even noticed he'd said anything wrong.

When he was satisfied that he'd left an adequately visible hickey, Hammer licked a wet stripe up to James’ mouth and forced his tongue inside. Fighting the urge to spit the flicking, invasive appendage out of his mouth, James hummed as though turned on. Hammer leaned in, making James take a deeper mouthful of that fleshy, wet thing.

This is just his tongue. How are you going to deal with his…

They were at the hotel before James knew it. Hammer paraded him through the lobby, hand firmly attached to his buttcheek. By some miracle, James managed to continue playing his role, leaning into his ‘date’ and giggling whenever Hammer whispered some horrible, obscene thing in James’ ear. It was all he could do to keep from shaking.

When they got up to the room, Hammer slid James’ coat off for him. It seemed like a normal enough gesture, something a real boyfriend would do, something his real boyfriend had done before, but all James could think was that he was already being undressed. He was being stripped down to nothing.

The suite itself was unnecessarily opulent. Everything sparkled. There were two rooms connected by an archway, the first being home to a sitting area populated by fashionable, uncomfortable-looking furniture, an equally painful-looking dining area, and an oppressively shiny kitchenette with a wet bar. The bar was where Hammer headed, brushing his fingertips along James’ exposed back as he did so.

“I'm going to make myself a drink, do you want anything?” He asked as he got out a glass and a bottle of scotch.

“I'm ok.” If James could get drunk, he would have used any means possible to numb himself. “I have to go get ready.”

Without looking up from his drink, Hammer waved him off. James went into the other room, the bedroom, making a point not to look at the bed. The bathroom attached to the bedroom, and he retreated into it.

Halfway through peeling off his clothes, James felt the urge to vomit again. He knelt in front of the toilet and heaved for a while, but nothing came up. He was too empty. Hollow.

The fancy shower was sufficient for James to get himself clean. Ordinarily, he did this ahead of time in his own shower, because he knew what was coming. He hadn't been properly warned this time, or maybe it had been obvious all along and James had let himself remain in denial. Whatever the case, he didn't want to incur Hammer’s wrath now by not giving him what he expected. He wants the girlfriend experience. James found himself laughing out loud, bitter, strangled noises coming out of his throat. He doubled over and puked into the shower drain.

Would Hammer get mad if James took too long? He reached out his mind and found the man still vibrating with his strange, unpleasant happiness, only a little impatient. Biting his tongue, James reached down and forced himself to work past his revulsion and finger his hole open. It would be easier if he was prepped. It would hurt less. James wondered if Hammer had even brought lube.

After stalling for as long as he could by washing everything several times over, he finally left the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Putting his clothes back on would only get him in trouble. The first thing he saw as he stepped out was the bed. It hit him then. Really hit him. This was actually going to happen. It was going to happen in a few minutes. He folded in on himself, crumpling to the floor. He knew he shouldn’t, that he needed to keep smiling, pretend he wanted it, but he couldn’t stop himself. Desperately, helplessly, James started to cry.

Sensing Hammer approaching, James scrambled to his feet and quickly wiped his eyes, but it was too late. When he walked in the room, Hammer spotted James’ red, tear-streaked face. Again, burning rage emanated from him, tinged with a sense of betrayal. There wasn’t an ounce of guilt or pity inside him. He strode over and cupped James face in his hands a little roughly.

“It’s ok to be nervous.” He said. His voice masked his anger only thinly.

James stared at the ground and nodded, swallowing back more tears. Hammer took hold of one of James’ wrists and guided his hand down to feel his erection through his pants. It wasn't as small as James had hoped. I could castrate him right now. Burn him. He couldn't really, though.

“Feel that, sweetheart? That’s for you.” Hammer cooed. “That’s going to be inside you, and you’re going to love it. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

“O-ok, yeah. I want-” James’ voice cracked, and he lost it. He was sobbing again, stammering, “Please, Justin, you don’t have to do this. There's a better way to... I can help you. I understand-”

“Stop crying!” For the first time all night, Hammer actually showed how angry he was, just below the surface. James bit his lip to keep any more sobs from slipping through. Hammer continued, “You don’t get to say no to me. Shut up, and go lie down on the bed.”

James whimpered. “Please…”

“Lie down on the bed. Now.”

There was, in fact, lube. As expected, there was minimal prepping. Then, it was inside him.

James tried to go somewhere else while it was happening. He was overwhelmed by the oppressive smell of too much cologne, the words being moaned at him (“Oh, yeah, Tony, fuck, Tony!”), the taste of scotch in the kisses that kept being applied to his mouth, as though this were something sweet and passionate, as though it wasn’t what it was. Most of all James was overwhelmed by the nauseating self-satisfaction that smothered him, threatening to choke the life out of him.

There was a glass chandelier above the bed. It swayed gently and cast diamond shapes on the hotel ceiling. James counted them out: one, two, three, one-e-and-a-two-e-and-a-three-e-and-a around and around the chandelier in a pattern that just wouldn’t stop.

It did stop, eventually. Hammer cried out and spilled into him. James’ mind instantly supplied the image of that fetid, mystery liquid which collected in the bottoms of trash bags and gushed out if the bag was accidentally punctured. Sated and victorious, Hammer gave a few final thrusts (Just stop. Please just stop) and his pleasure walloped James right in the chest. James came, despite himself, sticky and disgusting all over his abdomen.

“Holy shit. I made you come on just my cock.”

Bile rose in James’ throat. He swallowed it down.

“Smile, baby.” Hammer sighed, “I know that was good for you. See, I told you you’d love it.”

When James didn’t respond, Hammer started to get angry. James sensed the heat rising up in his chest. Don’t be stupid. Keep him happy.

“Yeah, of course I did.” James answered brightly. It was easy to slip into being someone else. He couldn’t stand the thought of himself right now. “You’re really… really good. I’m just a little… stunned. Because I enjoyed it so much.” He found himself giggling airily, like some lovestruck floozy. Where was that coming from?

Hammer rolled off of him and lay on the bed, sighing happily. He was floating on a wave of orgasmic bliss and the satisfaction of sweet revenge, in his mind long overdue. Of course he was happy now, but once his head cleared and he could see what he had done, surely remorse would start to set in. Surely.

“That’s good. I’m thinking maybe next time you’ll show a little more enthusiasm.” Hammer said. It was an order. “I wanna see how much you like it.”

Next time… next time. “Ok, I can do that.” James agreed. “I’ll do whatever you want.” Next time. It was all James could think about. The next time this happened to him.

“Good boy.” Hammer reached over and gently stroked the back of his knuckles down James’ cheek. There was no gentleness behind the gesture, however. All James could feel was glee. Sadistic, victorious glee. Hammer was congratulating himself for this.

Surely, surely he would feel bad about it in the morning.

The smugness and delight radiating off of Hammer’s body finally became too much. It felt like James was absorbing something toxic, being so near him. He sat up in bed like a reanimated corpse, restless and agitated.

“I need to get some-” No. Try again. “Can I go out and get some air? Please?”

“Sure babe.” Hammer acquiesced. “Just don’t fly away.” He said it with a smile, but it was a threat. Everything was a threat. Everything was dangerous.

James slid out of bed feeling, perhaps for the first time in his life, ashamed of how naked he was. His clothes were on the bathroom floor. It was like a different person had taken them off. It hurt to stand, to walk. It just hurt.

“Uh, excuse you?” Hammer said, stopping James in his tracks.

What now? What more could he possibly want now? James turned to see him sitting up on his elbows, staring at him.

“Yes, Honey?”

“I’m letting you do something you want. What do you say to that?” His tone was condescending, like he was scolding a child. No, more like he was training a dog.

“Thank you.”

Seemingly satisfied, Hammer laid back down. James wasted no time in scurrying to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. It felt good to finally be alone. A tear fell down his cheek, but he fought the urge to cry in earnest. He didn’t think he could stop if he started.

It’s fine. These things happen. This time it happened to you. James kept it together as he wiped the… as he wiped off his stomach and the insides of his thighs. Then he gathered his clothes off the floor and, hands shaking, covered himself up again. He was safer now; there was a barrier, however thin, between his skin and Justin Hammer’s hands. It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay. It didn’t seem fine. He could still feel it inside him. He felt where he’d been pried open and then invaded…

You’re ok you’re ok youreokyureokyourokuro

The bathroom floor was still wet. Had so little time really passed since he’d showered? He needed to get up, but he couldn’t force his body to move. It was something like being trapped in a frozen lake, and how you couldn’t swim to the surface because of the shock, so you just drowned. He had hoped that he’d feel better after it was over, but it wasn’t really over, was it? It was never going to be over.

A long time passed before he could stand up and walk out of the bathroom. When he did, he found Hammer already asleep. Good. He didn’t think he could fake his way through any more niceties.

He pictured himself taking a pillow off the bed and pressing it down on Hammer’s face. James was much stronger; he could hold Hammer down with his magic and he wouldn’t be able to fight back. He would just choke (painfully) and die (terrified) and James would get that indescribably terrible feeling he got whenever a soul was extinguished in front of him. He shuddered just thinking about it. No, he wasn’t capable of that, and even if he was, he knew that if Hammer died, everyone infected with his nanites would die too, including James.

James’ coat was hanging in the next room, and he pulled it on and headed for the balcony. The added layer provided him with a little more safety, but didn’t do nearly enough to block the cold wind outside from attacking his damp clothes.

For a while, he just stared at the street below. The people walking down the sidewalk or riding in their cars were too far away for him to read, so he could just imagine that they were all happy and carefree. The couples striding hand-in-hand were all deeply in love, the children were totally safe with parents who had no enemies and never made mistakes, the commuters were on their way home, or maybe to a friend’s house. Nobody had to do anything they didn’t want to do.

James pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. It was an almost Pavlovian response at this point, smoking after sex. It was normal, felt normal.

That wasn’t sex, his brain supplied that was not sex.

No, but you did have an orgasm.

The balcony was decorated with plastic plants in tacky stone pots, and James hunched over the nearest one and dry heaved until he finally vomited, the effort of it wracking his whole body. It’s not my fault I came. It’s not my fault. I’m not just letting this happen. I don’t have any choice.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Ok. He got all the evil out of him, and it was ok now. He looked down at the now-ruined fake plant and thought, guiltily, of whatever underpaid hotel employee would have to clean it up.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled at nobody as he stood unsteadily.

Leaning against the edge of the balcony, he stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit the end with the tip of his finger. The first inhale settled his nerves immeasurably. Things were bad, yes, but James knew he could find a way out of this. He was smarter than Hammer, all he needed was a plan-

“Prohibited substance detected.” A voice rang in his head.

What?

“Prohibited substance detected.” The voice said again. “Desist or you will be punished.”

“I don’t know what that means.” James snapped at the AI.

“Prohibited substance detected. Desist or you will be punished.”

“What substance?” James hadn’t eaten anything at dinner that he hadn’t been specifically instructed to, hadn’t had anything to drink that he hadn’t been given. What arbitrary rule could he possibly be breaking? Unless… James glanced down at the cigarette he’d been idly puffing on. No. No no no no no…

“Standby for punishment.”

“Wait, wait!” James cried out, but it was too late. Every nerve in his body lit up with intense pain. For a moment, his vision blacked out and he struggled to remain standing.

“Desist or you will be punished again.” The voice instructed as the pain ebbed.

Gazing sadly at the mostly-unsmoked cigarette still in his hand, James incinerated it between his fingers. It was just a cigarette; he didn’t need it, but gee whiz he wanted it. It was the one thing he’d had to look forward to, however small and unimportant it was in the grand scheme of things. Even that had been taken from him. He had nothing. He really, truly had nothing.

Tears started to fall, softly at first. Soon, however, his shoulders were shaking with sobs and he was gasping for air between them. It was loud, ugly crying, but that didn’t matter. Nobody could hear him, anyway.

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aqvarius · 4 years

Text

HLITF: This is not the story of your first night: Soma - otona love - chapter 4 summary/translation

anyway i guess you didn’t have to wait that long for chapter 4 but only because i couldn’t wait and had to keep reading. you can find the previous chapter here, or check my new translations page to read from the beginning. my translations masterpost is not rebloggable or mobile-friendly yet but i will update when i make one! otherwise, you can always just search the tag “summary” or “translation” on my blog or follow the links in my previous chapter posts to find the previous posts.

previously, soma had just said that what he was refraining [re: verbal attacking] from was...

naturally, he finishes his sentence outrageously:

soma: “i’m only refraining ..... in bed”

(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) <-- btw, the mc reacts the same way

he whispers this to you so closely that his lips are basically touching your ears again.

soma: “are you displeased?”

keep reading for irritated momose, soma being the best boyfriend ever, and him asking something of you that is so predictable of him...

side note: i know you are probably all sick of me gloating about how well i understand soma that i can predict his behaviour/know what to expect but i’m just so pleased to see all this teasing and manipulation in canon. anyway how dare he ask that with such a sweet smile on his face. he knows exactly what he’s doing.

soma: “or is it better to refrain in the workplace after all?”

you say that you’d prefer that he doesn’t [use verbal attacks] in the workplace as well, but you’ll leave that up to his judgement. deliberately letting his breath fall on your ears, soma drew back with an innocent face. you lament that you really can’t win against soma.

“by the way, shouldn’t you get going soon?” soma asks.

soma: “tsugaru-san’s loyal dog-kun is about to bare his fangs” (lmaooooo)

you panic that if you wait around any longer, you’ll get bitten. so you “ittekimasu” and soma replies “itterasshai” and you run off after momose.

this is a new background!!

you apologise for the wait and momose flashes you one of these:

momose hops into the waiting car and glares silently at you. you can’t see his fangs but it really seems like he’s gonna bite you!

momose throws the case documents from tsugaru at you and tells you to hammer it into your head before you arrive at the site. you try to ask “site-?” but momose just tells you to read it to understand and then he steps on the accelerator. meanwhile i’m here lamenting the fact that we don’t have a momose driving sprite. i guess they are only reserved for real love interests ;~~;

you exclaim “isn’t it dangerous to start [the car] like that?” and momose says that they are late because of you. you apologise but plead with him to drive safely lmaooo this is so on brand.

while in the car, you start reading the case files on the target. there’s a group that has been showing suspicious movement right as a summit in tokyo is approaching and one of the members is the target this time. you’re going to the apartment that’s supposed to be their hangout.

momose doesn’t respond but no response means “yes”...

you note that there are more than 10 [more than a dozen] targets coming in and out and then momose randomly says “today is friday”. it takes a moment but you suddenly see something in the wording of the case document. turns out that every friday there’s a chance of contact with the terrorist mastermind.

“in other words, today,” says momose.

“we’ve got to hurry!” you exclaim and momose gives you that silent look again lol. you apologise, saying “who’s the one who’s been saying that...” since you were the one who kept him waiting.

“but those eyes... they’re too scary...!”

in order to escape from his accusatory glare, you turn your eyes back to the case material.

“momose-san doesn’t say a lot, so the pressure of his gaze is intense”

“in other words... a shisenzeme [”glare attack”] type?”

you inadvertently returned your gaze [at momose] that had turned away. he asks “what” and you’re like “nothing!!” you scold yourself a little because you have a job to do today and you need to concentrate on your work.

i’m just adding these backgrounds here bc i’ve never seen some of them before lol.

it’s late and you couldn’t get any results from today’s work so you return to headquarters at night. you leave the division at 9pm after doing paperwork.

“i promised i would go to soma-san’s house tonight...!” (😏😏😏)

i’m gleeful about what’s to come but also worried bc it takes me like 5 mins per slide to translate all the euphemistic sex scenes. you send him a text saying “i’m leaving [work] now!” and rush out and -

your phone chimes with a reply:

“thanks for your hard work*. i’m making paella and waiting for you.”

*otsukaresama = good job/thanks for your hard work/you’ve worked hard

i hope you’ve all realised by now that soma is the greatest boyfriend of all time i love him so much 🥰🥰🥰

clearly hlitf mc thinks the same thing:

“paella! i’m so happy!!”

soma’s immediate reply makes you smile. (same girl, same ;~~;) since soma’s paella is full of seafood, you decide to buy some delicious white wine.

“you’re arrived so late,” soma says when you arrive at his. he opens the door, looking a little displeased. you apologise and say you bought wine.

soma: “taking such a detour...”

you show him the wine but his expression doesn’t change. you wonder if he’s angry... you were working late and you wish you had come straight to his. he asks you if it’s a white [wine] from spain, and you say you think it would compliment his paella. he says it should.

soma: “a wonderful selection”

i’m so happy to be praised by him lol. you’re like “yokatta...!” (i’m glad). soma says it was worth the wait. it’s a little disagreeable when you arrived (not really sure if i translated this bit correctly) but he’s not criticising/reproaching you.

“let’s go eat,” soma says, and you say yes!!

“mm~ soma-san’s paella is the most delicious after all”

soma: “i’m honoured to receive your compliment”

he jokingly bows his head, and you enjoy a late dinner together. he says that the wine you chose is also delicious. you agree, but you apologise for keeping him waiting. he asks you if things went well [at work] and you’re like “um...” and then he apologises for asking about things related to another team’s investigation.

soma: “excuse me. i shouldn’t say anything about the contents of another team’s investigation.”

you think that you can’t talk about it even to soma, even though you got no results today.

“but [seeing you] in that state...”

“no, it’s nothing.”

you think that just now, he definitely saw through you [that you got no results]. “is that so...” you say, and soma just continues to eat while smiling as if nothing happened. you’re glad he left it there today. usually he’ll push you a little more or tease you. soma-san is good at listening to team tsugaru’s movements/happenings.

soma: “if you [eat] too slowly, it’ll be too late to take a bath”

i had to include a screenshot here bc it’s my policy whenever soma talks about baths. i bet he’s gonna ask to go in together too lmao.

you realise that’s why he didn’t ask you about this and that. you apologise that things are rushed just because you were late.

soma: “ahh, sorry... i don’t mean to blame you”

you say that ah no, you don’t feel like he was blaming/criticising you! and he says “that’s good then”.

soma: “it’s getting late, so it’ll be quicker if we go in together”

I KNEW IT I KNEW HE WAS GOING TO DO THIS!!!!! i’m ALSKJFSLDSDS?!!!!J LKSJFLDK!??!???! fLSKDJLKJF!!!!!

“soma-san grins flirtily while swirling his glass of white wine”

soma: “i got new bath salts, shall we enjoy it together?”

YESYE SLYEEYESYEYYEYESY

“could it be... i was skillfully manipulated!?”**

**it says “guided”, basically meaning he like led her into this. remember when i said mc’s entire relationship with soma was one big trap? this is what i mean lol!!

anyway, that’s the end of chapter 4! i can’t believe how quickly it went by (maybe my language skills are getting just a little better lol... or maybe i just don’t have to spend ages trying to figure out what parts of whose body are being touched in what manner in these everyday scenes lmao). i can’t BELIEVE WE GET SOMA WANTING TO BATHE TOGETHER AGAIN. i mean i can believe he because he wants to do it constantly but i’m like giddy with excitement seeing it again lmao. i love seeing overly legalistic hlitf mc as well (the fact that she was late but still nagged momose to not start the car so abruptly... sis........) and also how cute that soma made paella and waited for her a;lsjfdlsk supportive boyfriends are the best.

i hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you’re as excited as i am for the next chapter and hopefully the inevitable bathing together scene...

i’m sure i could probably draw more traffic by updating that scandalous kazuomi story but i am selfish and i want to finish this story first bc i just can’t get enough of soma.

i’ve also set up a ko-fi page here and would be incredibly grateful if you would like to support me for translations and being able to purchase more routes to recap in english!

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kurokolovesakashi · 7 years

Note

If possible, could I request for a hiyoko!akakuro fic which is somehow based on game Flappy Bird? Hope that it doesn't sound so weird...

Kuroko flapped his wings furiously. If he couldjust get past these green pipes, he knew he could find Akashi on the other-

He hit a green pipe and died.

^^^ That was my first draft. Literally that. Thank god someone wrote a Flappy Bird fic that gave me inspiration bc otherwise I’d be totally lost LMAO. Anyways, I absolutely love you for sending this ask, OMG. What a cute proposition. I DEMAND that you sign off any future asks with “Flappy Bird Anon.” Flappy bird anon gets special treatment in this house - no shirking this, this is the most amazing thing… flappy bird au… my goodness

[cross posted to AO3]

Kuroko flapped hissmall wings furiously, staring ahead determinedly. A field of pipes approached.This time he got fairly far, but what he’d barely registered the first time wasbecoming obvious. His flight was wildly out of control; there was no wind forhim to glide on, and he dropped like a stone when he wasn’t flapping his wingsfuriously.

He smashed into a pipeand fluttered to the ground, consciousness fading.

Kuroko flapped hissmall wings furiously, staring ahead determinedly. A field of pipes approached,looming above and below him. He dodged upwards; he swooped down; he swervedaround the pipes, determined to get to the other side-

He barely got pastthree sets of pipes before he died.

The cycle continued inthat way – Kuroko kept trying again and again. He couldn’t remember how hearrived to that hellish field, but he remembered the countless attempts. He hadnever struggled with flying this much in his life. The time of the day neverchanged. His surroundings never varied, except that the pipes seemed torearrange themselves unnervingly.

Kuroko lost count ofhow many times he had seen this same field when finally, something changed.

Kuroko flapped hiswings, tired and frustrated. He was going to make it this time-

“Excuse me.”

Kuroko smashed into agreen pipe and died.

He came to again,wings flapping furiously. Ahead of him, a red bird sat perched on one of thepipes. As he neared, he could see the bird flutter into the air expectantly.

“Excuse me,”the bird peeped. Kuroko tried to keep his concentration, his flight pathveering all over the place again.

“Yes?” hepanted.

“It seems there’sbeen a mista-”

Kuroko crashed into apipe again.

“Could you pleasetry to stay alive for one moment-”

Kuroko accidentallyflew too high, smashing his head on a pipe.

“You'reinbirdhellandI'mheretotakeyoutobirdheaven.”

“What?” Kurokoturned to look at the bird. “Why am I-”

“Look ahead ofyou!”

Kuroko looked aheadjust in time to get a face full of green pipe. When he came to again, the redbird was flapping along next to him, speaking urgently.

“You have tofollow me. I’ll lead you to bird heaven.” Kuroko nodded, panting. Anythingwas better than this.

“Ok-”

He died again. Butwhen he reappeared, the red bird had timed it so it was flapping ahead of him,leading him through the field of pipes. Kuroko flapped furiously to catch upuntil his beak was almost brushing the red bird’s tail feathers. It was like aslipstream trailed after the bird, making it easier to navigate. Kuroko’s bodyno longer sank like a stone, instead floating through the air like it was meantto. However, the bird deftly swooped and lifted to navigate the field. Kuroko’swings burned as he struggled to keep up. He thought his heart would pound outof his chest before they were done, but at last the red bird flutteredgracefully onto the edge of a green pipe, and Kuroko miraculously found that atlast, he could sit down.

“Shall we goagain?” the bird asked, ruffling its feathers comfortably.

“What?”Kuroko landed next to him. “I thought you were going to take me to bird heaven.”

“Yes,” thebird replied, “I did. Shall we go again?”

“You… did…?”Kuroko looked around himself. It was the same environment full of green pipes.“This is bird heaven…?”

“Yes.” Thebird stared at him with aplomb. Up close, Kuroko noted its vividly red eyes.

“But… where arethe worms… the nests…”

“There are no wormsin bird heaven,” Akashi chirped matter-of-factly.

“There are… noworms… in bird heaven?”

“No, of coursenot,” the bird replied confidently. “All the worms are in wormheaven. There is no inhumane hunting in heaven. Besides, you’re not hungry, areyou? Eating a worm now would just be a disappointment.”

Kuroko seemed torecall eating many a worm when he wasn’t actuallyhungry and enjoying it thoroughly, but he didn’t see the point in squabblingover it.

“There are nonests…?”

“No, nests aretraditionally made from dead things, like tree twigs, and there are no deadthings in heaven.”

“What about thesethings?” Kuroko gestured at the green pipes.

“That’s inorganicmatter harvested from the ground. It was never living.”

Kuroko narrowed hiseyes at the bird now. “You aren’t pulling my leg, are you?”

The bird drew himselfup. “Excuse me?”

“This is reallybird hell, isn’t it?”

The bird huffed.“Don’t be dramatic. Just because you don’t like it doesn’t make it hell.”

“As a bird whohas been to hell, I believe I have more authority in this subject thanyou,” Kuroko chirped loudly. “This is hellish.”

The bird drew back,fluffing his feathers out huffily. “It is what you make it,” he chirred,surly.

An awkward silencehung between them. Judging from the red bird’s round, squashed shape he waspouting, like hatchlings do when mother hasn’t got any worms. Reaching out,Kuroko lightly placed a wing on the bird’s side, watching as a beady eyeswiveled around to examine him.

“I’m sorry.”Kuroko patted the bird hesitantly. “I’m very glad you’re here.”

“Would you liketo go for another round?” the bird asked.

“Yes, that wouldbe alright.” Kuroko followed close behind as the bird took off. “Whilewe’re here, what is your name?” Kuroko cheeped.

“AkashiSeijuro,” the bird replied. “And you?”

“KurokoTetsuya.”

“Oh? That’s anice name,” Akashi replied. He seemed to be cheering up. Kuroko sighed tohimself.

He spent the nextcouple of days – it felt like that, even if he suspected it was only a coupleof hours – poking around his surroundings. It was just grass with green pipessticking out of it. It was bizarre.

“Why does thisplace look like this?” Kuroko asked. He tapped his foot against the pipe,hearing a light ting.

“Bird heaven isgetting more and more crowded. Until the quotient for bird angels is met, there’sno time to design more complicated structures.”

“Birdangels?” Kuroko looked back at Akashi. “Is that what you are?”

Akashi puffed himselfup. “Yes, I was chosen to be one.”

“And there’sreally no eating at all?” Kuroko asked hopefully.

“I don’t thinkthey’ll be able to do the worms.”

“I suppose I canget used to eating just seeds,” Kuroko cheeped, disappointed.

“I was avegetarian in life,” Akashi announced proudly. “I believe it was partof why I was chosen.”

“Yes, of courseyou were.” Kuroko went back to silently sulking.

He couldn’t have toldanyone how much time had passed before anything changed again. There was atimeless quality to the place, but it may have been because nothing shifted inthe slightest. It was impossible to track time. Akashi would flutter nearby,looking like he wanted to say something, and then flutter away again when henoticed Kuroko was bunched into a tense ball. He wasn’t in the mood to speak toAkashi. At least, not until he noticed something strange.

“The sky isdimming,” Kuroko peeped to himself. He stood, excited. “The sun issetting!”

Kuroko fluttered overto Akashi, who was dozing in the grass, and poked him in the side with his leg.

“Excuse me?”Akashi huffed.

“The sun issetting!” Kuroko ruffled his feathers in excitement.

Akashi squinted at thesetting sun contentedly. “Oh, it is. I suppose they’ll finally startadding things now.”

“Addingthings?” Kuroko perked up at that.

Akashi glanced at himslyly. “You’ll see.” He ruffled his feathers, getting ready to takeoff. “Do you want to go for another flight?”

“Alright.”Kuroko hadn’t missed the change in subject, but Akashi was already taking off.Following behind him, Kuroko took in the scenery again. Everywhere he looked,it was the same landscape: pipes after pipes sinking into spongy, unchanginggrass.

“Can’t we atleast do a barrel roll?” Kuroko called after Akashi.

Akashi tilted his headin thought. “We can try.”

Kuroko flapped a littlefaster to catch up to Akashi. “Let’s do it.”

Akashi glanced back athim, amused. “Okay… 1… 2… 3!” Akashi tucked his wing under, droppingsuddenly. Kuroko hurried to follow, spinning in the air and realizing he’d spunout from the slipstream that seemed to follow Akashi around. He quickly spiraledto the ground, smacking into it with a painful thud.

Kuroko came toflapping toward a sea of green pipes. “Oh, you’re joking,” hegroaned. He managed to smash into a pipe twice before he spotted Akashiflapping toward him as fast as his wings could carry him. This time it tookseveral attempts to get Kuroko out of the field again as he lost concentrationmidway. Panting, he landed clumsily, Akashi eyeing him as he perched moregracefully on the edge of a pipe. Kuroko rolled over to regard him.

“Let’s try it again,”he chirped.

A low noise came fromAkashi, and as Kuroko watched his feathers vibrate and ruffle, he realizedAkashi was chuckling.

“If youwish.”

Other changes startedto be made to the environment. Days came on the regular. A tree was added,which Kuroko was able to nestle into. He patiently broke off individual twigsto build a nest – silently noting when Akashi decided to pitch in to the effort– and settled into it. It was a little roomy for one, but-

Akashi startedwiggling into place next to him.

“I don’t thinkthere’s room for-”

Akashi squishedhimself into the nest next to Kuroko until they were both firmly wedged intogether. Kuroko squirmed, trying to get more comfortable.

“Holdstill,” Akashi cheeped.

“There isn’t roomfor both of us.”

“Of course thereis. Wait a minute.” Akashi pushed himself back out of the nest again,stretching his wings out. Then, he started to settle back down again, his warmwing outstretched over Kuroko.

“See, this isn’tso bad, is it?”

“Hmph,”Kuroko chirred, narrowing his eyes. He held still, Akashi’s warm featherspressing into him with each light breath. Slowly, his eyelids drooped as therhythm of Akashi’s breathing lulled him into a calm. His head began to feelheavy, and he tucked his beak into warm feathers and fell asleep under Akashi’swing.

#anons #asks #my fics #akakuro fanfics #akakuro #i love you flappy bird anon #my writing

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poorlilbeans · 7 years

Text

y’all already know what this is. (part 8)

lmao motherfuckin finally. this author is so slow amirite wow who are they

“Addressing any concerns regarding my recent fall and inactivity online: First of all, thank you all for your concern and kind messages. Yes, my ankle is broken. No, the season isn’t over for me. Thankfully, it is only a minor fracture, and I intend to be back on the ice within a few weeks. As for everything else: Yes, I am dealing with some health issues at the moment. I have been mostly bedridden for the past two weeks since my last competition, having been diagnosed with an undifferentiated autoimmune disease. (Not contagious, so don’t worry, fellow competitors <3) I don’t know when I’ll be back to full health, but as aforementioned, it is absolutely my goal to continue with the season as planned. This is a setback for sure, but not the end of my career. (And no, I’m not on drugs, @sportscelebgossip. Yes, I saw that article.)”

“Good caption,” Victor confirmed. Yuuri drew in a deep breath as he hit post and immediately shoved his phone under his pillow. “Good, it’s done,” Victor reassured. “You don’t have to worry about it anymore. Ready for the journal?”

“I just realized the anglicized version of my name rhymes with worry,” Yuuri said, blatantly ignoring the question. “How accurate is that?”

“Yuuri…”

“Yeah. Yuuri. Worry.”

“Stop procrastinating. It’s not going to work.” Yuuri sighed heavily.

“I hate the journal,” he grumped. “Let’s just talk about English words some more. Hurry also rhymes.”

“Then let’s hurry and get this done so you can stop being a child about it. First is temperature. Open up.” Resigned, Yuuri stuck the thermometer in his mouth, giving the journal the Dirty Look to End All Dirty Looks until it beeped.

“38.2,” Victor murmured, writing it down. “And you were over 39 three times today. Just one seizure… about 110 seconds… Okay, how many barfs were there?”

“Three.”

“Okay, that’s better, right? That’s one less than yesterday. Blood?”

“Yes. Not much, though. Just streaks.” Realizing what question was coming next, Yuuri pulled his blanket up over his face stubbornly. Victor sighed.

“Don’t do that. You’re just making the journal take even longer.” There was no answer. “Just a one word answer. How many bowel movements?” After several seconds of silence, the blanket whispered,

“Five and a half.”

“Five and a half? How the hell does that work?”

“Because- never mind. Six. Just put six.”

“Fine. Blood?”

“Yeah.”

“Any coughing fits today?”

“One bad one, one not-so-bad one.”

“Okay. Joint pain throughout the day. One is none, ten is the worst pain ever.”

“Six? But like seven or eight when I move? But then sometimes it’s like five when I have the hot packs,” Yuuri rambled, still under the blanket.

“I’ll just write six and a half, like yesterday. Last one is general, just how you feel. One is take me back to the hospital right now and ten is take me back to the rink right now.”

“That sounds biased.”

“Just answer the question.”

“Fine. Like, four, I guess. Today was pretty okay.”

“Four,” Victor whispered as he wrote. “Okay, we’re done. See how easy that was?”

“No,” Yuuri answered stubbornly. Victor slipped the journal in the drawer of the nightstand (out of sight, out of mind) and hugged the blanket, knowing Yuuri was hiding in there somewhere. Truthfully, Victor hated the journal too, but not for the same reason. Yuuri found it embarrassing to document how awful he felt every night; especially since he was so prone to being incredibly private when it came to illness. He was a master of hiding packs of tissues in his sleeve when he had a cold, or escaping social situations when he needed to cough. With this, though, there was no being private. He had to record every gross thing that happened and relay it to the doctors at the next appointment, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to convince himself that everyone who knew what was going on with his health wasn’t disgusted. Meanwhile, Victor hated the journal for how it put into perspective how bad things were. Even while he was almost always home taking care of him, Yuuri still managed to hide things. In the past couple of days he had gained back enough strength to sometimes hobble around alone on his crutches, which gave him the freedom to keep things secret. He’d started taking frequent showers, playing loud American rock music to drown out the sounds of coughing, retching, or using the washroom. The journal was getting increasingly frustrating as Victor discovered more and more things that had flown over his head throughout the day. It terrified him that Yuuri might start trying to hide seizures as well, which could put him in serious danger.

Tired of cuddling a faceless blanket-lump, Victor burrowed under the thick comforter until his nose was touching Yuuri’s.

“You shouldn’t hide under the blankets. It’s not good for your fever.” It was hard to tell under the dark blanket, but he was pretty sure Yuuri rolled his eyes before scooting away from him. That was a bad plan, though, and he ended up scooting right off the bed, yelping as he hit the floor with a thud. Victor threw the blanket off of himself and scrambled to the floor where Yuuri was in a little heap, his shoulders jumping.

“Shit! Are you okay? Are you crying? Look at me!” he cried frantically, grasping Yuuri’s arm.

“I’m laughing, Vitya,” he answered, sitting up slowly to reveal a sheepish smile. “What happened to your sense of humour?” Victor breathed a sigh of relief before replying,

“I think it got worried for a second there. You didn’t jar your ankle, did you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. It was funny. Remember that? Funny? Can we please talk about something other than my ankle and my… you know, my everything else?” Victor sighed, forcing himself not to scoop Yuuri up and put him back in bed, instead offering him a hand. With a little help, Yuuri stood on his good foot and climbed into bed, looking at him expectantly.

“Of course. Sorry,” Victor said finally, crawling back into bed beside him. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Literally anything,” Yuuri breathed. “Watching paint dry. Math exams. American politics.”

“Getting married in Japan,” Victor blurted out. Had he really said that out loud? In the back of his mind, he knew it was foolish to be embarrassed about talking about wedding fantasies when you’re already engaged, but still. He felt heat rise to his cheeks and idly wondered if he was more flushed than Yuuri. There was a moment of heavy silence before Yuuri grabbed Victor’s face and kissed him. Hard. Harder than he had since this whole mess had started. Maybe harder than he ever had.

Yuuri wished he could kiss him for longer, but his lungs began to burn after only a few seconds. He didn’t tell Victor that. He didn’t mention how much his body hurt from the simple effort of pulling him in for the kiss in the first place, or how his ankle was actually throbbing from falling off the bed. None of that mattered at the moment, because Victor wanted to get married in Japan. Yuuri had never even considered the possibility of someone wanting to marry him, ever. Maybe as a young child it had crossed his mind- the beautiful idea of a wedding on that lovely cliff near the onsen- in the spring, maybe, when it would be raining cherry blossom petals. At some point in college it had suddenly occurred to him that that dream had died around the time he met Nishigori, but he wasn’t upset about that. He had never missed the fantasy, exactly, but now it was suddenly back in his mind and it was oddly wonderful. Thoughts of kissing under the cherry blossoms, looking out over the Hasetsu cityscape with someone else, walking along the beach holding hands with Victor, his husband, all raced through his head in the space of less than a second. He knew he should say something, but the emotion was so overwhelming he didn’t know what he would do if he allowed himself to snap out of this trance. Finally, the emotions bubbled over, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out a laugh. Victor flushed crimson, looking horribly embarrassed for some reason, and Yuuri couldn’t correct him because he was just too happy, happier than he’d probably thought he could ever be, and all his language abilities flew out of him with a giddy whoosh.

“I’m sorry, that was such a weird thing to say- it was so sudden. I just- you have more family than I do, and- like- I know we technically met in Russia but you didn’t remember that and that night didn’t feel real anyway because it was just a party and parties end. But being in Japan was the first time I didn’t feel so alone and I just thought- I’m sorry, I’m just making this more awkward…” Yuuri prepared his weak lungs and interrupted Victor with another kiss, knowing there was something he could be saying, but deciding that just this once, he’d put his own needs first and let himself indulge in the feeling of being overwhelmingly happy. He pulled away for breath frequently, trying to suppress the urge to cough, and kissed as hard as he could until his burning lungs forced him to stop again. When he finally pulled away, he was exhausted, his body begging him to sleep. He pushed it back for just a moment as he searched for something, anything, to say. Finally, dropping his head tiredly and contentedly onto the pillow, he whispered,

“And then we’ll honeymoon somewhere warm.” With that, he fell asleep in his almost-husband’s arms.

He thought things were getting better.

He really did.

He dreamt of weddings and honeymoons for the first half of the night. It was blissful and calm. He woke up a few times, and found himself warm and still in Victor’s arms, and that was enough to lull him back into a contented sleep.

The sun was almost up when things started going downhill.

The dream was of a honeymoon on a beautiful island somewhere. One second he was holding Victor’s hand, looking out over the serene horizon, and the next, he was cold and alone. Dark clouds began rolling over the dream-beach. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was only dreaming, but that wasn’t enough to stop him being terrified as the sun completely disappeared. What had once been the sound of soft waves on the shore became screams. Horrible, bloodcurdling screams echoed in his head. He called out for Victor- he’d been there a moment ago! Where was he? Without the sun the beach was awfully cold; Yuuri could see huge, grotesque goosebumps forming all over his body, distorting it so it looked like he’d been attacked by bees. The screams got louder and louder. They sounded pained and desperate- like the scream of someone being tortured- and Yuuri began to recognize familiar voices in the chorus. Mari was first, but his parents were there too. Then Phichit. Yurio. Where was Victor? He looked around frantically, but all he could see in the dark was a jagged wooden sign that read, “Why did you ruin our honeymoon?” Powerful nausea swirled in Yuuri’s stomach as he did the last thing he could think of: run. He sprinted full force along the beach, but the further he went the less his legs worked. They felt numb, but they somehow hurt at the same time. His running got slower, sloppier. He ran, crying now, until he stumbled across a mangled body. The person was clearly dead; they were bleeding from… well… everywhere, it seemed, and their limbs appeared to be twisted and broken. Yuuri could see slashes across the person’s throat and abdomen, and his mouth fell open in a silent scream as he recognized blood-soaked silvery blond hair and lifeless blue eyes…

“Yuuri? Yuuri! Wake up, please!” Cool hands touched his arms and face. The beach was gone. Where was he? It was soft. He felt heavy blankets on him, but he was freezing. What was that sound? “Yuuri, you’re hyperventilating. You need to calm down.” Oh. He was making that sound. It sounded like the way an angry monster would breathe. Were monsters real? He couldn’t remember. He felt the cool hands come back for a moment, pressing on his cheeks and forehead. Then they left, and suddenly the world started getting even colder, and Yuuri cried out because he was afraid he might be on that beach again. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s just me. I’m moving the blankets because you’re too hot right now. Can you open your eyes for me?” Oh. It hadn’t occurred to Yuuri that his eyes were closed. Maybe if he opened his eyes it wouldn’t be so dark. With a lot of effort he forced his eyelids up. The dim bedside lamp burned, but then Victor’s blue eyes appeared in front of him, not dead, so he didn’t mind. He decided now might be a good time to sit up, because lying down meant sleeping and sleeping meant Victor would be dead on a beach. He wasn’t sure how long he spent trying to sit up, but his muscles burned and he was incredibly dizzy by the time Victor helped him.

“Need a hug,” Yuuri heard himself whisper, before dissolving into panicked tears. Like magic, Victor’s arms wrapped around him, ever so slightly dulling the edge of the painful cold assaulting his body.

“Okay, okay. Hush, it’s alright. I’m right here,” he heard him whisper. For some reason, that made Yuuri cry harder. At least, something did. Maybe it was the embarrassment. He knew he was embarrassed, although he couldn’t quite remember why. Maybe it was the terror of his nightmare, or his fear of going back to sleep. Maybe it was the blinding, unadulterated pain clenching his body from the inside out. Regardless, Victor’s hands traced up and down his back, along his scalp, and somehow everywhere they could possibly be to comfort him. His face was there too, whispering to him, planting little kisses on his neck and in his hair. It felt like they stayed there forever, but also only for a few seconds before Victor shifted and Yuuri felt something appear under his tongue. A lollipop? Doctors give lollipops when you’re sick, right? Yuuri was pretty sure he was sick. It didn’t taste very good, but he appreciated the gesture anyway. He wouldn’t tell Victor it didn’t taste good. He was just looking up to thank him when the lollipop started screaming at him, and he spat it out, yelping. He heard Victor saying something to the lollipop; he couldn’t tell if it was English or Russian, but he recognized it was swear words. Victor must not have realized the lollipop was angry at first. Understandable.

Then, the warmth disappeared, and through his hazy vision Yuuri could see him floating away, toward the door. Why would he leave him? He couldn’t leave him! Not knowing what else to do, Yuuri felt himself scream, “No!” Victor spun around in shock, rushing back to the bed. His hands appeared in his hair again, which was nice, but not enough to slow the tears that had started anew. Victor was floating above him somewhere, asking what was wrong. He sounded desperate and scared and Yuuri felt a pang of guilt, but immediately couldn’t remember why.

“Don’t leave me,” he sobbed. He heard Victor agree, but he still couldn’t find him, which was frustrating. He wondered whether or not his eyes were open, but he wasn’t sure how to check. Next, he was flying, and for a horrible moment he wondered if he had died- but then, he felt Victor’s breath on his neck and relaxed. There was a blast of cold air, and then a few moments of painful nothingness. Then he was lying on a hard, cool floor and Victor was wiping something off of his face. Then, he was sitting up again, somewhere soft, talking to his mother. When had she gotten here?

Reality slowly began to fade into his consciousness, and he started to understand what was happening. He was propped up against Victor on the couch, facing a computer screen. Kaasan wasn’t in Russia, she was on the computer screen. Skype? Yeah, skype. With a lot of effort he said hello, having no idea if it came out in Japanese or English. He couldn’t find the energy to care. It was always wonderful talking to Kaasan, but Yuuri found it incredibly impossible to keep up. He faded in and out of the land of the awake as Victor and Kaasan chatted, distress palpable in both of their tones.

“40.8???” Victor nodded, gazing guiltily at Hiroko’s worried expression. “He needs to be at the hospital, Vicchan!” He sighed.

“I called his doctor, but she said having him here is just the same as having him there. We already have all the meds I can give him.” Truthfully, Victor had seriously considered taking Yuuri to the hospital anyway, simply for the sake of his own sanity. Even if there wasn’t much they could do, it was tempting to put the responsibility in their hands for a few hours. Of course, he immediately felt guilty for thinking that. He glanced down at Yuuri; it was hard to tell whether or not he was awake. He occasionally murmured things to himself, or maybe he thought he was participating in the conversation. Every time he made a noise Hiroko looked at him intently, like she desperately wanted him to say something coherent. The look in her eyes gave Victor another sharp pang of guilt, and he wondered if she thought Yuuri would be better off in Japan, under her care instead of his.

“He’s going to be alright,” Victor whispered, unsure of who he was trying to convince. Hiroko nodded, shifting to the side as Mari appeared in the frame to say hi. Her shock was obvious when she saw the condition her brother was in. Her English wasn’t quite as good as her mother’s, and nowhere near Yuuri’s, but she addressed Victor when she said,

“He looked better on Instagram today.”

“He was,” Victor answered, speaking slowly to help Mari keep up. “It just started getting bad again early this morning.” Her eyes shifted back to her brother and she said something in Japanese, causing him to stir slightly. He made a tiny noise, opening his eyes again to look at the screen. Seeing him awake, Mari smiled and repeated herself, and Yuuri responded with a sentence that Victor actually knew how to translate.

“Watashi wa, anata o aishiteimasu, Onee-chan.” (I love you, Onee-chan.)

“Watashi mo anata o aishitemasu, Onii-san,” (I love you too, Onii-san.) Mari answered. A tear slipped down her face and she hastily wiped it away before bidding them goodbye and heading back to work. Once she was gone Yuuri dozed off again and Victor filled Hiroko in on the past couple of days since they had last skyped. He was just about to wake Yuuri to say goodbye when he made a little noise in the back of his throat. Hiroko let out a surprised

“Oh!” as his mouth fell open, letting a stream of vomit dribble continuously into his lap. Victor moved calmly, numbly, keeping Yuuri upright until he was done. He wiped Yuuri’s mouth with a tissue and swiftly pulled off his soiled pajama pants, relieved that his boxers had made it unscathed. Yuuri didn’t seem embarrassed about throwing up this time, or even having his boyfriend pull his pants off in front of his mother. His lack of reaction might have been the most concerning part.

“I think I’m going to take him back to bed with some fresh ice packs,” Victor said, cringing as his voice cracked. Hiroko nodded sadly, bidding him goodbye before saying something in Japanese, which Yuuri seemed to at least partially acknowledge. The last thing she said was,

“Keep me updated.” With that, she hung up, leaving Victor to carry a terrifyingly non-protesting Yuuri back to bed.

hngggg the bottom is in weird text and idk why or how to fix it im sorry :(

#sick!yuuri #yoi #sickfic #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #victuuri #viktuuri #hurt!yuuri

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