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ava-candide · 3 years

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Poldark’s Aidan Turner on playing Leonardo da Vinci

The newly married heart-throb actor learnt to paint left-handed for his new role, and he’s still daubing now, he tells Ed Potton

Aidan Turner takes on the role of Renaissance polymath Leonardo

I’m trying to work out where Aidan Turner is Zooming from. Is it London, where he moved to in 2017 after his Ross Poldark became the drooled-over king of Sunday-night television? Dublin, where he grew up, trained as an actor and returned to spend the first lockdown with his parents? Or Rome, where he shot his new series, Leonardo, in which he plays a young Leonardo da Vinci?

“None of the above!” Turner says. “I’m in Toronto.” The enigmatic charm, feline eyes and gleaming locks that he deployed so mercilessly in Poldark, The Hobbit films and Being Human are all there. “My missus is working here,” he explains, and so is he. That’s the American actress Caitlin FitzGerald, his partner of three years, whom he met when they starred in the 2018 film The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot. At first I assume the “missus” is laddish affectation but it turns out that it’s official: Turner and FitzGerald, both 37, got married in secret in Italy in August after filming finished on Leonardo. You can almost hear the sighs of disappointment ripple around the world.

Turner won’t say any more — he is famously guarded about his personal life — but he looks insanely happy in the couple’s rented apartment. FitzGerald — whose grandfather Desmond was a CIA agent and organised several plots to assassinate Fidel Castro — is shooting a series, Station Eleven, in Toronto while her husband works on another project that he’s not allowed to talk about. In their downtime they’ve been watching I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, an HBO documentary series about the Golden State Killer, and, on a lighter note, Ottolenghi and the Cakes of Versailles. They share the apartment with Charlie, an ebullient Norfolk terrier that Turner has to eject from the room halfway through our interview when he starts yapping. “I’m surprised he behaved for so long,” he says

Eight-part series Leonardo has been criticised for warping history

Like many of his fellow thesps, Turner has been doing a great deal of lockdown painting. “We have a roof garden here and the light has been really good,” he says. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this because I don’t know if the landlord knows. It’s not messy work anyway!” Unlike some of his peers — I’m looking at you, Pierce Brosnan — he has yet to unleash his daubings on the world. How would he describe his style? “I struggle to say abstract, but I haven’t quite figured out what it is yet.” Did it help with playing Leonardo? “I don’t know. If you saw my paintings, you’d assume very much not,” Turner says. He has a studied line in self-effacement, honed after years of “sexiest man on TV” questions.

Leonardo premiered in Italy last month and was watched by seven million, many of them doubtless keen to see Turner brooding in a succession of smocks. The eight-part series has been criticised for warping history, having the artist accused of murder and featuring an apparently fictional muse, Caterina da Cremona, played by Matilda De Angelis from The Undoing. Luca Bernabei, the chief executive of Lux Vide who produced the series, defended it stoutly. “Matilda De Angelis’s character did exist. She was a model Leonardo asked to paint,” he said. “We have been really careful in our research. But this is not a documentary, we are not historians and this is not a university history lecture.”

And if the history pedants are spluttering, the art pedants should be happier — the series goes to considerable lengths to make the painting look authentic. Each episode is themed around a different masterpiece, from the portrait of Ginevra de’ Benci to The Last Supper to the Mona Lisa, and the candlelit cinematography is often sumptuous. Turner’s research included a private view of a Leonardo exhibition. “I spent some time alone with the actual paintings, which was brilliant,” he says. “They’re just like high-definition photographs. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that a human had done this.”

Aidan Turner attended an artist’s boot camp before filming started

The series opens in Florence in the 1460s, with Leonardo a pupil of Verrocchio, played by the veteran Italian actor Giancarlo Giannini. Before the shoot Turner and his co-stars went on an artists’ boot camp (brush camp?) supervised by professionals. He says the hardest part was learning to paint, as Leonardo did, with his left hand. He compares it to learning to ride a horse for Poldark, which he pretended he knew how to do before going on a crash course when he got the part.

Brushwork was the same, he says. “I realised I had to get good quite quickly and look like I knew what I was doing with my left hand, which is more difficult than you would think. It’s keeping it steady — you find it just moves around a lot. Leonardo was very slow and precise — I think I got it down. After a few weeks you start picking up the brush with your left hand, it becomes natural.”

Leonardo was a vegetarian, Turner tells me, “and apparently later in life opened some sort of vegetarian restaurant”. He was also gay, something that, despite reports, the series does not shy away from. Was this Turner’s first time kissing a man on screen? He laughs. “Of all the things I was expecting you to ask next, that wasn’t one of them! In a lot of ways it was just another love scene. The fact that the gender was different — that was never a thing. No, it felt right. It didn’t feel any different at all. But yeah, to answer your question, that was the first time, which I’d never really thought of until now.”

What did feel weird, he says, were the Covid protocols. “Suddenly people are wearing masks and shields and hazmat suits. We had a big sanitisation machine as we walked in that would spray us. You take off the mask when you shoot the scene and it’s a bit strange for a second. Then you realise it’s the first time you’ve seen your co-star’s face that day. It’s not conducive to a very creative environment, for sure. But we made it work and nobody got sick.”

Turner spends a chunk of the first episode painting De Angelis, and both actors know what it’s like to be ogled. She has been asked endlessly about her naked locker-room sequence in The Undoing, just as he has been reminded of his shirtless scything scene in Poldark. Before that there was his lusted-after vampire in Being Human and his sexy dwarf in The Hobbit — branded a “dwilf” in some quarters — although that “definitely wasn’t the intention”, he says. “I think I just had less prosthetics on my face. My make-up call was 20 minutes and everyone else was sitting in the chair in the morning for three and a half hours. It wasn’t good to be around the other dwarfs in the mornings, that’s for sure.

“I get why people are interested,” he says of the ogling. “It’s just when it keeps coming up.”

We move on. According to a recent survey Cornwall has overtaken London as the most desirable place to live in Britain. Does he think Poldark played a part in that? He laughs. “Maybe we nudged a few people in the right direction. I think people forgot how beautiful that side of the world is. One of the first reviews of Poldark we read was like: ‘We can’t believe that this is our country, it looks like the south of France.’”

Could Poldark return, and would Turner be in it? If they stuck to the chronology of Winston Graham’s books they would have to leap ahead a few years. Maybe he could play an aged-up Ross Poldark in latex and fake paunch? “I don’t know if I’d be keen on the ageing-up thing,” he says. “It never really works. I don’t know whether they need to be too strict with that gap anyway. There’s the possibility someday, maybe. I enjoyed working with everybody on Poldark, from the writers right down to all the cast and crew. It really is like a family. So I’d be open to chat about it. But not for a while.”

Before that he will appear as the apostle Andrew in The Last Planet, the forthcoming biblical epic from Terrence Malick, revered creator of The Thin Red Line and The Tree of Life. Well, he doesn’t know for sure if he will appear. Actors of the calibre of Rachel Weisz, Mickey Rourke and Jessica Chastain have seen their performances in Malick films vanish during editing.

“You want what’s best for the film. And if you don’t fit into it, you don’t fit into it,” Turner says in the tone of hair-shirt devotion that actors tend to use when talking about Malick. With a cast including Ben Kingsley and Mark Rylance as Satan, the movie is meant to tell the story of Jesus through a series of parables. Turner doesn’t really have a clue, though.

“You don’t necessarily know what you’re signing up to. You’re signing up to Terrence Malick,” he says. The director has “a great way of working. Everything is around ‘where is the sun’ at this particular time. That’s our natural light and it’s all we use. So things happen fast. There’s no trailers, hair, make-up, we’re just all together. You don’t know from day to day what you’ll be doing. It’s quite renegade stuff. That’s the way I always wanted to work.”

It’s closer to the immediacy of the theatre, which is where Turner started out. The son of an electrician, Pearse, and an accountant, Eileen, he represented Ireland at ballroom dancing before falling into acting. After studying at the Gaiety School of Acting in Dublin he acted in plays for five years and in 2018 he returned to the stage to rave reviews in Martin McDonagh’s The Lieutenant of Inishmore in the West End. Rave being the operative word — his performance was bracingly unhinged. “I can’t wait to get back to the theatre,” he says. “That’s what we’re looking at probably next.”

Turner’s character in The Lieutenant of Inishmore was an Irish freedom fighter, but he is reluctant to talk about the prospect of Irish reunification (“So I don’t get shot when I get home,” he told one interviewer). Culture is safer ground, and his native country is going through a purple patch with Sally Rooney in literature, Fontaines DC in music and the likes of McDonagh, Jessie Buckley and Denise Gough in drama. “It tends to happen in waves,” Turner says. “Coming out of drama school, Colin Farrell was such a big thing. When these actors really make it you can feel some of their light begin to shine on the industry back home.”

Like Farrell, Turner is an international star, although it has mainly been in period roles: Poldark, Leonardo, Andrew and his breakout turn as the 19th-century poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti in the 2009 series Desperate Romantics. It must be something about the hair.

That could be about to change, though. Toronto often stands in for New York, which suggests that his current mystery project has a contemporary setting. Does he yearn to act in jeans? “Yeah, you’re right,” he says with a laugh. “After Leonardo, I think tights and knee-length boots are out for a while.” Many would beg him to reconsider.

#aidanpics

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stargaze-issei · 4 years

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"maybe i want to take you out!" (s. hitoshi x reader)

summary; shinsou hitoshi always thought you'd get along pretty well, with similar quirks, both aspiring to be a hero someday. what will it take for him to ask you out?

genre; fluff(?

word count: 1.8k

warnings: manga spoiler, joint training arc. two curse words(??

quirk; puppet master. you can control any person or object with invisible strings that come out of your body. the accuracy increases as more strings you use. usually, you only use your fingers because it's easier to control, but when needed you can use your tongue, feet, hips and legs. for it to work, whatever is your objective has to be in your sight at the moment of taking control, once that happened, the connection will break if they cross a five miles radio. when overused, your fingers (or whatever you're using) will bleed and give you instense headache.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

in class 1-a of the hero course, everyone got along, including you. you had bonded with everyone there, including bakugou somehow, but definitely your best friend was kaminari denki. maybe because your rooms were parallel from each other and that made you spent almost everyday with him, sometimes mina would tag along, or kirishima, or sero, but always you and him. don't get me wrong, it was totally innocent, there was really nothing more than a strong friendship between both of you, despite of what your friends thought. it was normal for you to have lunch together, or go for a run before going to sleep. anyone who didn't know you would've thought you were a couple, and that's what the purple haired boy from general studies thought too.

one time, after his personal practice, aizawa sensei caught him looking at you.

"you..." he wasn't that type of master, but he also wanted to bond with his student "you should talk to her, she's really nice"

"sorry, what?" his cheeks started to blush at a weird speed.

"you were looking at y/n, right? i said you should go talk to her, her quirk is similar to yours" of course shinsou knew that, that girl was one of the eight best from the sports festival, if only she were better at close combat, she would've totally won. at least, that what he thought.

"forget it, it's nothing" it had made him uncomfortable to have that little chat with his sensei.

however, aizawa knew he lied. it was something, and for shinsou to care about anything asides from becoming a hero was... unnatural.

you, on the other hand, never repaired on him that much. you knew who he was, you knew he had potential and was awfully cute, but that was it. sometimes you would think about talking to him, i mean, your quirks were similar, he'd get some things no one else would, he'd get you, but neither of you had the courage.

until one day, on your first joint train with class b, a surprise student showed up. it was him. shinsou hitoshi, in his flesh and blood. he seemed so different. it wasn't just that cloth in his neck giving him an eraserhead type of look, a new aura of self confidence surrounded him, making you feel a little attracted to him.

the teams were sorted out, you ended up with deku, uraraka, mina and mineta. given that your team had one more than the others, it was decided that shinsou would be against you. a shiver ran down your back, it scared you to fight someone similar to you. denki's team ended up with shinsou in it.

"denki, here" you approached to him handing over a cereal bar. he took it without saying a word as shinsou came closer.

"thank you for hav–" he stopped talking when he saw your face, what were you doing there? he always saw you around kaminari, were his suspicions true? were the two of you dating?

"you've got the face of a popular guy!" denki shouted "i'll bet you're popular with the ladies, trust me! look at y/n over here, drooling all over the place" he pointed at you with a funny expression.

"oh shut it" you were trying to hide the blush in your face by looking to the ground, dammit, denki "anyways, good luck shinsou, i... i look forward to our match" you walked away, feeling butterflies in your belly even though he didn't even respond. he was just too mindblown that you knew his name, that you looked forward to anything involving him.

"hey! what about me?" denki whined, but you ignored him. he realized that the purple haired boy didn't take his eyes off of you the whole time before the match, and figure out that maybe, he had a little crush on you.

as their match began, you accompanied deku to the camera room, recovery girl was there, just in case anyone got hurt. midoriya had his notebook in hand, taking notes on everything your classmates did. from time to time, he would mumble a couple things to himself.

"shinsou really improved after the sports festival" you said, thinking out loud. you swear you tried, but it was impossible to take your eyes off of him.

"does his hair pull up too? is it a cloth thing? i always thought it was because of eraser's quirk. what if he...?" deku rambled, and you didn't notice the sassy look recover girl was giving to you.

their match ended with a win of class a, denki happily hugging shinsou. the rest of the encounters left your team, the last one, with the duty to untie, each class won two times, whoever wins now takes it all. you hurried to gather up with your team, mina yelling at you to fast your pace. deku already had a plan, which involved him as a decoy. you had to be taken to higher ground, where you could see most of the arena, as a damage control person. once they're in the place of your ambush, you'd use your mastering to get them out of combat.

the exercise started, everyone in position. uraraka helped you get as high as you could, and then went to help the others. you helped mineta move whenever he needed while keeping an eye on deku, but suddenly, everything turned into a mess. you couldn't see deku, or uraraka, or mina, only smoke and screams. you rushed over there, worrying that something bad happened to anyone.

"deku!" you yelled, a strange black substance was coming out of his body, taking control of him, almost like a black whip. in anger, it turned to monoma, who was standing in shock. without second thoughts, you launched yourself to get the blonde guy of the way, arriving a few seconds early, but not enough time to save your own body.

it was impossible for the whip to stop at that speed, so you closed your eyes and protected your face, there was nothing else you could do. but the impact never came. the moment shinsou got there, his legs took life and jumped to save you. seeing you there, waiting for your faith like a scared kitten, made his heart break. and he did it, he saved you from izuku, but didn't realize how your head smashed into the ground.

you remember seeing dark purple eyes staring at you before passing out.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

"are you sure she'll be okay?" a male voice asked. it wasn't denki, or aizawa sensei, but he seemed worried about you. your head ached like hell, so you kept your eyes closed.

"what i answered ten times before won't change now, shinsou" you knew that was recovery girl, but what was shinsou doing there? why was he so worried about you? "call me when she wakes up, i gotta go" and like that, both of you were left alone.

he sat next to you, resting his hands on the gurney while letting a loud sigh out.

"tough day?" you teased without looking at him.

"you wouldn't believe" it took him a while to realize what had happened "you woke up! how is your head? are you okay? don't move, i'll get recover girl" shinsou jumped from his sit, somehow you managed to grab his wrist, blushing at the touch of his skin.

"wait, please" he felt his knees weaken below him because of your soft tone "can you tell me what happened?" then it was his turn to blush.

"um, i really think i should go get recovery girl" you let go of his wrist when he started to walk, with a hint of sour in your mouth.

as hitoshi left the room, kaminari appeared minutes later. his hair was messy, and still wore his hero costume, like you. after screaming, he hugged you tightly.

"don't ever, ever, do that again! oh go i thought you were dead or something, if shinsou hadn't throw you of that thing's way..."

"shinsou saved me?" he proceeded to tell you a detailed history of what he saw in the ground gamma's cameras. how that whip was about to kill monoma, how you saved him only to be saved later by shinsou.

recover girl arrived alone, no sign of the purple haired boy, and by the afternoon, you were ready to go home. at the dorms, everyone welcomed you, izuku apologizing over and over. but the boy wasn't there either. him was all you could think about. you wanted to talk to him, thank him, something to him. why did he run away? did you said anything bad? were you annoying?.

days went by, and shinsou wasn't anywhere nearby, not even the hallways. you were told to rest and get good sleep at nights, but you laid wide awake thinking if tomorrow maybe he'd approach to you. until one day, it was enough. eraserhead gladly told you to go to the forest at six, he would be there waiting for you. and so you did, only to find him in his training clothes, obviously not expecting you.

"what are you doing here? you should be resting" he shouted, trying to hide his sweating hand behind his back with the greatest effort to not let his embarrassment out in his voice.

"well i would be, if the guy that saved me didn't ghost me" why were you being that confident? he didn't owe you anything, half of you wanted to turn around and leave, but you never listened to that half.

"it wasn't a big deal! it's cold out here, where's your jacket?"

"forget about my jacket! why didn't you come back?" shinsou felt something shiver in him, why didn't him?.

"because you didn't need me there!" even he knew that was the lamest answer ever.

"you don't know what i need! i wanted to thank you!"

"well then do it!"

"that's what i'm doing!"

"great, thanks accepted, now go and put on a fucking jacket!"

"no! you don't get it, dammit" his eyes opened wide, he was completely lost.

"what is it then!?"

"i want you to care!"

"how do you know i don't?" your face turned red.

"because... oh screw it!" you turned around, ready to leave.

"wait! what do you want me to say!?"

"i don't know! what do you want to do!?"

"maybe i want to take you out!"

"maybe you should!"

"maybe i will!"

wait, what? did he said he wanted to take you out?

"are you... are you for real?" you asked, scared of his answer. both of you walked closer to each other.

"i mean, yeah, but it's totally okay if you don't want to, i would totally understand, like, you are you and i am me, so feel free to..." you lips pressed to his stopped him from talking. they were soft, perfectly in sync with yours, a little taste of mint coming out of his mouth. "i-is that a yes?"

"pick me tomorrow at seven" and you left, both had an idiotic smile stitch to your faces.

you were going on a date with shinsou hitoshi.

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captain-ross-poldark · 3 years

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Poldark’s Aidan Turner on playing Leonardo da Vinci

Ed Potton

Friday 2 April 2021

Aidan Turner takes on the role of Renaissance polymath LeonardoJUSTIN SUTCLIFFE/EYEVIN

Eight-part series Leonardo has been criticised for warping historyPA

Aidan Turner attended an artist’s boot camp before filming startedVITTORIA FENATI MORACE

With his wife, the American actress Caitlin FitzGeraldREX FEATURES

Turner spends a chunk of the first episode painting De Angelis, and both actors know what it’s like to be ogled. She has been asked endlessly about her naked locker-room sequence in��The Undoing, just as he has been reminded of his shirtless scything scene in Poldark. Before that there was his lusted-after vampire in Being Human and his sexy dwarf in The Hobbit — branded a “dwilf” in some quarters — although that “definitely wasn’t the intention”, he says. “I think I just had less prosthetics on my face. My make-up call was 20 minutes and everyone else was sitting in the chair in the morning for three and a half hours. It wasn’t good to be around the other dwarfs in the mornings, that’s for sure.

“I get why people are interested,” he says of the ogling. “It’s just when it keeps coming up.”

Turner with Eleanor Tomlinson in PoldarkMIKE HOGAN

Before that he will appear as the apostle Andrew in The Last Planet, the forthcoming biblical epic from Terrence Malick, revered creator ofThe Thin Red Line and The Tree of Life. Well, he doesn’t know for sure if he will appear. Actors of the calibre of Rachel Weisz, Mickey Rourke and Jessica Chastain have seen their performances in Malick films vanish during editing.

All episodes of Leonardo will be on Amazon from April 16

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/poldarks-aidan-turner-on-playing-leonardo-da-vinci-wnmqhxqxr

#Sunday times #aidan turner #Leonardo

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punkpoemprose · 3 years

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December 5th- Livestream

Universe: 2010′s AU Streamer! Anna AU Rating: Teen (maybe I’ll do a smutty followup at some point!) Length: 4368 Words

A/N: Sorry this is a little late. I didn’t have wifi for most of the day so I spent it doing other Christmas things instead of writing.

“So you’ve really never played a videogame before?” She asked, “Like you didn’t play Pokémon or Mario as a kid?”

She was sitting, cross-legged, atop one of the four washers in the apartment complex’s laundry room, snacking on Nacho Doritos and undoubtedly making a mess in a room meant for cleaning things. Across from her, pulling clothes from the drier was her neighbor Kristoff. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone except for maybe her sister, but she’d been intentionally doing her laundry on the same schedule he did his, He wasn’t usually the social sort from what Anna could tell, but she found him very attractive and relished the weekly opportunity to get to know him better. Also, secondarily, but no less importantly, it gave her the opportunity to stare at his very tones ass as he bent over to remove his clothes from the dryer. That he always wore basketball shorts on laundry day was proof enough to her that God was real and she or he wanted Anna to thrive. Or to be tested for her strength of will. Perhaps both.

“Not really,” he admitted with a shrug, “I grew up mostly playing hockey. One of the ice rinks used to have a pinball machine, and I played that, bit it probably doesn’t count.”

Anna snorted and set down the bag of chips, shaking her head and wiping her fingers on her sweatpants. He was a totally unique guy, vastly different than the “pretty boys” she normally took an interest in. Her attraction to him ever growing since the day he moved in. That day, when she’d first noticed him, she’d been given the great pleasure of watching him lift heavy boxes through her window, and then through her peephole after he’d climbed the stairs.

“Did it have a screen or a ball?” She asked, more as a joke than anything given that she knew the obvious answer.

“Touché,” he replied.

She took one last good look at his rear as he straightened up, appearing to be satisfied that all his clothes were out of the dryer and into his green laundry basket. The smell of his dryer sheets wafted over to her from the open dryer as he shifted out of the space and she decided that she needed to up her laundry scent game. It was unfair that someone was allowed to be as attractive as he was and to also smell like lavender and citrus and all the good things on the Earth.

She noticed, probably a bit creepily if she was being honest with herself, that he wore boxer briefs. And since she’d first noticed it weeks before the image of him wearing them and nothing else had haunted her late-night thoughts like a sexy specter. As a result, it had provided her of the most perfect mental picture of what he might look like in her apartment, in her bedroom, undressed and giving her the eye. She bit her lip trying to rid herself of the thought, lest he glance over at her and see her giving him bedroom eyes, or worse, drooling all over herself. He probably didn’t even realize that he was weapons grade sexy, because that made him even more attractive in her books.

“Sometimes I play solitaire on my computer if I’m waiting fi something to load,” he offered in his own defense.

He was turning towards her now, proving her concerns correct. He rested his basket against his hip as he leaned back on the now empty dryer. His sheepish smile and tone told Anna that he knew that the defense was not particularly convincing in anyway, but that he needed to at least try.

“That’s just sad,” she teased, shaking her head as if she truly were severely disappointed in him instead of just joking around.

“Well not everyone plays videogames for a living Anna.”

It wasn’t an attack really, but more of a statement. When she’d started talking to him the words may have had more sting, but now, knowing him and his gruff but kindly manner, she took it for the joke and defense of his lack of experience that he meant it to be. If he had a flaw it was that he was a bit of a grump. He’d never been mean though, and she was already watching him soften more and more by the day.

“Well not everyone is a chef either Kristoff,” she replied, “It takes all types to make the world go round.”

“I’m a baker,” he corrected.

He rolled his eyes at her when she shrugged and gave him her best “po-tay-to, po-tot-o” look. The look and sigh of exasperation that this rewarded her made her laugh. There was little better than the playful exchanges she could have from him in just looks, and it was one of the many reasons why she enjoyed being around him. They didn’t know each other very well yet, but she still felt like he got her somehow.

“And also, just so you know, you sound like my mother.”

“She’s a wise woman.”

She of course knew that he was a baker, but she hadn’t really realized that he’d rather be called a baker than a chef. Either way, she was still hoping that maybe someday he’d show up at her door with dinner, or a cake or something, just so she could invite him in.

“That she is.”

A silence fell between them as he folded his things and while Anna swapped her own clothes out of the washer and into the dryer. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but rather a companionable one. That was of course, until they both seemed to come to the realization simultaneously that one of them would be leaving sooner or later.

“You can change it by the way,” Anna offered.

“My mother being wise?”

She almost laughed. She hadn’t met his mother, but she doubted that with a son like him she had the power to change anything about her. If anything, she might ask her for some wisdom of her own.

“Oh gosh, no. All mothers, or at least all the ones I’ve met, have been wise. No, I meant the ‘never played a videogame’ thing.”

He shrugged at first, but then gave her a look betraying a greater level of interest. She wasn’t sure whether he was going to say yes or no, and there was a long pause as he thought about it.

It would be fun, she thought, to play with him. Maybe, if he’d let her, she’d stream it too. Videos of experienced players teaching others always had high entertainment and replay value. It would be good for her brand, but mostly she just wanted an excuse to invite him to her apartment. She’d been wanting for a while to see him somewhere other than in stairwells and the laundry room.

“What do you play?” He asked finally, seeking out more information.

She wasn’t sure he was quite ready for the long list of games she’d streamed before, let alone the even longer one of games she’d played just for fun. She decided it was best to give him the highlights of the CliffsNotes.

“I play a little bit of everything. I’m competitive in Overwatch and League of Legends, but I’m not really like… going to in person tournaments of anything. I just get invited to a few online cups here and there. Mostly I just play for my audience rather than thinking about joining a league or anything.”

He looked at her like she had three heads that each of them was speaking a different language. She’d gotten too deep too fast she supposed.

“I just mean that those ate the games I play against people seriously in. I play other games for fun and for people to watch how they’re played.”

He nodded, and while she could still see confusion in his eyes, he was making a solid effort to understand. She did notice that he was giving her a sort of amused smile, like he was enjoying the conversation despite not really knowing what it was she was talking about.

“Can you put that into different terms? I get that it’s competitive, but are you playing for money or points or?”

“Sometimes a cup will have a cash prize, but mostly I earn money from people watching my streams on Twitch and then the replays and the play throughs of games I post on YouTube.”

They’d talked before a bit about what they each did for a living. She’d been trying to figure out how to ask him what bakery he worked at so she could drop by sometime but hadn’t quite figured out how to be subtle about it yet. He knew that she was a streamer, and while it was a difficult career to try to explain to someone, he’d made the effort to understand as she offered him more and more details each time. He hadn’t asked for her username of anything, which was always equal parts disappointing and unsurprising. She didn’t really want him to watch her videos per say, but she also wanted to be able to imagine that he was tuned into her streams when she was doing them. She just wanted to be able to pretend for a little while that he was interested in her enough that he’d want to watch.

“Uh, I don’t know where this falls exactly, but my sister’s kids play Minecraft. Do you play it? They talk about it, but I don’t really know what it’s all about.”

“I could show you,” she replied, feeling a bit bold, “We don’t even have to stream it if you don’t want.”

He stopped to think again, and Anna was careful not to let her eyes wander too far down his body as she took the time to take in the muscle of his arms, the way his black t-shirt strained over the expanse of his chest. Whatever it took to be a baker, she decided, must be one hell of an upper body workout. His rear, she’d already decided, was surely hockey related. He’d never said so directly, but she was fairly sure he still played, and on occasion she’d see him carrying a large duffle up and down the stairs.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind. Could my niece and nephew watch?”

She grinned. It was a date.

They’d settled n the weekend, not too early, not too late. She’d insisted on calling his sister to let her know personally that the kids could watch them play from home. When her sister had called him to let him know about the call, she’d told him how nice Anna had been over the phone and how she’d even given her instructions on how to keep chat closed for the kids’ viewing so that if anyone typed something profane they wouldn’t have to see it. Generally, Anna set up the whole evening and his one and only job was “show up and have fun”.

He’d been a little uncomfortable with the idea even after agreeing to it. He didn’t really know how to act around her, let alone on camera. The fact of the matter was that he was an introvert and Anna was the opposite. She was warm and gregarious, and she was, at least to his yes, radiantly beautiful.

When she’d offered to teach him to play a game, to bring him into her world, into her home, he hadn’t been able to say no.

For months, since he moved in and they started sharing their laundry room conversations, he’d been trying to find a way to get to know her better. All he’d wanted was an excuse to take more time, because when he was with her, he felt happier than he could ever remember being with anyone other than his family or his friend Sven.

He was sure Sven would be tuning in to see whether he made an epic fool of himself. The whole viewing world, or at least all her viewers, would be watching him bumble about, but it was worth it because it would make Anna smile. And he supposed also that it was a plus that he’d be able to play a game with his niece and nephew the next time he saw them, but mostly it was for Anna.

He took a deep breath before knocking on the apartment door. He’d wanted to bring her flowers or something as a thank you for teaching him how to play, but Sven had put the kibosh on it when he’d brought it up, insisting that it would make it seem like a date and that he needed to “play it cool” until “the real date” that he was somehow sure there would be.

“One sec guys, I think that’s him!”

He heard the patting of bare feet moving quickly across the hardwood floor. When the door swung open with a creak, he was met with a grinning Anna and a warm rush of air into their always too cold hallway.

The breeze carried on it the smell from her apartment, which hit him more directly than the heat. It smelled like the holiday collection at bath and body works had an illicit affair with the food scented and musk Yankee candles producing a lovechild that reminded him of what the bakery might smell like if it was in the middle of a garden. It was all sugar and spice, chocolates and floral.

It was like her, and as he saw the bright décor evident even in her entryway, he couldn’t help but smile. It was no surprise that she’d want to be in a place as bright and fun as she was.

“Hey,” she said excitedly, reaching up to click something on the headset she wore, and then reached for his hand, “I’m so glad you could make it! Your niece and nephew are viewing with everyone else. They’re extremely excited for their Uncle Kris to learn a videogame.”

He felt her fingers card through his as she lead him through the door and into the apartment. She was talking and while he was trying to listen, he was distracted by the fact that somewhere in his head, something was screaming over the fact that she was holding his hand, and that he was in her apartment and that this was all happening.

“Okay?”

“Huh?”

She was looking at him and he forced himself to focus on that, the way she was giving him an understanding smile, preparing to repeat what she’d said while he was busy spacing out.

“We’re going to just do an hour unless you decide you want to go longer. We’re going to play on my PC instead of console today. There’s going to be another monitor next to you with my livechat running but you don’t have to interact with chat if you don’t want to. I’m going to just give you a spare headset for audio, okay?”

He wasn’t really sure that he was okay. He was feeling spaced out and wasn’t really sure whether or not he was going to regret this whole thing, but then she squeezed his hand gently and he decided that it was all alright.

“Yeah, thanks for doing this. I’ve been meaning to…” Spend time with you? Ask you out? Watch your streams like a creep because I want to pretend you’re talking to me?, “learn to play something, you know… for the kids. They’re going to think you’re the best after this.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand again, this time holding it tight for a little longer before letting it go entirely, like she didn’t really want to let go.

“I’m glad you’re letting me. I’m really glad you came tonight.”

He took a deep breath, trying not to read into it as she led him over to her streaming setup. There were two chairs set up in front of a webcam with a bunch of screens around them. The main screen had “Standby” written on it next to a cartoon of Anna wearing a headset and drinking a hot cup of tea. The little icon was kicking one foot back and forth under a cartoon version of her computer chair and the cup was billowing steam. It was cute to say the least, and she must have agreed because she walked over, got into her chair and “booped” the nose of the drawing before beckoning him to sit next to her.

“Ready to go?” she asked brightly, handing him a bright green headset that had been sitting next to the main computer’s mouse and keyboard.

He took it and put it on, deciding that this was, in fact, going to be alright after all.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She smiled and he felt her hand go to his again, giving it a squeeze where it rested on his lap before she pressed a button on his headset, then one on hers, and then clicked a few things with her mouse, bringing them on the stream, live, before an audience of a few hundred people.

***

“Hello and happy Saturday!” Anna announced warmly, trying to focus on working even though Kristoff was right there at her side, relaxed and smiling at her more than he was at the camera, “As you guys requested Kristoff, my neighbor is back for the fifth consecutive weekend to learn a new game.”

She tried not to roll her eyes when she noticed the amount of comments in chat that were, to say the least, thirsty. Anna had noticed that since having Kristoff on her stream for the first time, a fair amount of her female audience had been staying on stream for longer than they normally would. Normally she wouldn’t complain, but there was something about them thirsting over Kristoff that made her want to get her mod to kick them from chat.

It would be bad for business, but every time she saw Kristoff’s eyes wander over to chat and saw him flush from the attention, she wanted to take him into the other room and give him the proper attention he deserved. She’d gotten close to kissing him after the last stream he’d joined her for, and then again, the morning after when he’d brought her coffee and a beautifully glazed apple turnover from the bakery he owned just down the block.

She’d thought, weeks back when they’d done their first stream together, that she couldn’t possibly be more interested in him than she already was. But then he’d been funny and kind and an eager learner in her stream, and then she’d received thank you flowers days later, and he’d agreed, while they did their laundry to do another stream. And she’d fallen in love with him in just a few weeks, she’d fallen in love with the way he was thankful even when she was the one who needed to thank him. She’d fallen in love with the way he offered to come back again and again and again because it had been good for her work, and the way he’d invited her to see his bakery because it was only fair to share as much of himself with her as she had with him. She fell in love with the way he could be quiet, but that his gestures and facial expressions could speak volumes, and she fell in love a little more each day.

“Due to popular demand,” he said, taking a moment to look over at her for confirmation as he’d become more comfortable talking on stream, but preferred to address her more than he did the camera, “I’m going to be playing a dating sim.”

There was a subset of her viewers who, instead of thirsting after Kristoff, had been dead set on getting them together. There were also those who assumed that they were, in fact, together, but the viewers she was enjoying most were the ones who actively attempted to get them to talk about their “chemistry” and “tension” on stream. They were lead by a user named SvenjaminButton and Anna decided that if she and Kristoff ever did get together, she was going to track him down and buy him dinner, because he rallied the troops in a spectacular way, getting people to request more Kristoff on the stream and giving Anna the excuse to see him.

The dating sim had also been his idea.

She loaded it up and laughed at the bad graphics, it was one of those one dollar steam games that someone just threw together from preexisting code and some drawings. She wasn’t expecting much from it, but Kristoff was playing along like a champ, and she was looking forward to talking to him after the stream ended about how silly it was.

His skills with games were improving over time, and this point and click was surely not going to cause him any challenge, but still she appreciated that his initial response to the game launching was to move closer to her, putting her into his space should he need any assistance. She liked to think that maybe he just wanted to be in her space anyway.

“I hope you find true love,” she teased, the stream already going wild.

“I think I already have.”

***

Kristoff was still kicking himself for what he’d said at the start of Anna’s stream as they were logging off. He was pretty sure that she thought he was just playing up a joke when he’d said the bit about already having found true love, but truthfully he wasn’t, and he felt adrift. He’d fallen for her, and he’d fallen hard. She was just so fun to be around, and she instantly had changed his perspective on games from being a waste of time to being something actively enjoyable. Half the fun was, of course, just being with her.

“Thank you so much,” she said when the stream ended, leaning back in her chair and practically tipping her head onto his shoulder as she did so, “You’ve really been so wonderful with all of this. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for all the time you’ve been putting in.”

He smiled, happy that he’d been helpful to her, that she’d been happy to spend the time with him.

“You don’t have to thank me Anna. I’ve been enjoying myself. But… if I could maybe ask you something?”

This was the night. It had been Sven’s suggestion, and he still wasn’t sure of how he felt about it. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who made moves, but he’d never really had a cause to do so before. He could be bold in business, in work, in life, but in love? It was new for him.

“Of course Kristoff,” Anna replied, leaning her face towards his as she leaned back, bringing her face so close to his that all he would have to do was move a few inches to kiss her. That, he thought, was going to far, even if he desperately wanted to do so.

“Would you be interested in going out to dinner? Anytime you want, I know you’re busy, but I’d really like to take you out.”

She gave him a look of surprise and immediately he wondered if he’d just ruined everything.

He could feel the heat rising to his face, feeling like he’s just picked the wrong answer in the dating sim they’d been playing. He could practically see the little heartbreak icon popping up over her head, but then, he watched as she too flushed.

“Like… like on a date?”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He raked a hand through his hair, trying to focus on something other than how close her lips were to his and how incredibly wrong this could all go in almost no time at all.

“Yes. Unless you’d prefer not, because I like being your friend and I don’t want to ruin that if you’re not interest…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, because Anna’s lips were on his and she was kissing him. Then as he leaned forward, he was kissing her and reaching out to bring her closer. He couldn’t catch his breath before she was climbing out of her chair and onto his, her thighs moving to the sides of his as she straddled him on the chair and kissed him until he was breathless.

His hands didn’t know where to go, but after a moment of them simply hovering, he let one wander along her sides, feeling her waist and her hip while the other brushed against her hair and rested against the back of her head.

She pressed herself into him and he held her close as they kissed harder and faster, lips becoming kiss swollen and wet as they explored together. He hadn’t ever really kissed anyone like he was kissing Anna, so he focused on the pleased sounds she made when he pulled her closer and kissed her harder.

“Can I take this as a yes?” he managed, when they broke for a moment to take a breath.

She was resting her head on his chest, her eyes, when they met his, were dark and pleased. She must have enjoyed the kiss as he had, and he was glad for it. What he’d started to say was true. He’d be happy to have her as a friend if that was all she wanted.

He felt like the luckiest man on earth that she’d wanted more.

“Tonight,” she said, “Take me for dinner tonight because I’ve been wanting this for months now. I don’t think I can wait.”

His heart raced as he thought about Anna, for months, wanting him as she did now.

“I don’t think I can either,” he admitted, letting his fingers card through her hair as he held her tight.

He didn’t know where he was going to take her yet, but he knew that wherever they went, the food would taste sweeter than it ever had before.

#kristannaadvent2020 #kristanna #frozen fanfiction #streamer! Anna #2010s AU #streamer AU

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depths-of-hope-and-despair · 3 years

Text

Burden

“Fay. Fay… My little fairy? Heyyy…” A soft voice rang in the astrologist’s ears, stirring her from her sleep once a finger poked her cheek.

“Mmngh.. mmm?” Fay grumbled, one of her eyes creaking open, still blurry with sleep.

“You fell asleep at your desk again.” Maisie chided, her nose crinkling in distaste. “I’ve told you about these all-nighters, babe. Look, you drooled all over your star map.”

And so she had. Not only had she ruined her sketch of the galaxy, but a postcard from Iyabo was stuck to her face. “Aw, shucks… sorry.” Fay giggled in embarrassment, prying off the damp card. “One of my students asked about how farmers used to use the constellations to keep track of time, and I-“ Her sentence broke midway into a yawn, Maisie’s gaze softened with concern in response.

“You sure you’ll be alright to watch the rugrats this evening?” Maisie asked, reaching down to tuck a strand of hair out of Fay’s face. “I can always reschedule the show…”

“Psh! Poppycock!” Fay shook her head adamantly, a warm smile coming to her face. “Go get ready for your performance, May. I’ve got a whole night of fun planned for me and the kiddos! Lookie, I planned the whole thing out in my notes!” Excitedly, Fay showed off her plans plastered on paper, waving it in front of her partner’s face.

“Uh-huh.” Maisie smiled patiently, looking over the careful plans her wife had for the evening. A trip to the theater, baking cookies, stargazing, even a treasure hunt in the house for if the weather took a turn for the worst. “You won’t fall asleep under the stars in the backyard again, will ya? You’d all get colds, y’know? You’re the biggest baby when you get sick, starlight.” She teased.

“What’s that? You’re giving us a curfew? I’d expect something different from the girl who snuck me out to go roller skating every Friday night when we were kids.” Fay giggled, returning the favor in full. “You’re losing your rebellious streak, May.”

“Hmph!” Maisie huffed momentarily, yet her eyes shined with a playful light. A smile tugged back onto her lips as she moved forward. “Not my fault your parents locked you away in a tower, honey. You should be grateful, not just anyone would climb up to rescue you.” Her arms wrapped around Fay’s waist, causing her to giggle.

“Oh pardon me. What could I possibly do to return the favor, my hero?” Fay asked coyly while sticking her tongue out, setting her hands on her wife’s shoulders.

“Keep me around for a while?” Maisie offered, beaming down at the shorter girl, Fay wondered how the sight could still make her heart do a flip to this day. The astrologist nodded with a flushed face, as the pair leaned in to kiss-

“Mommy! Maaaa!!!” A voice whines from the hallway. “She is doing it again!”

“Speaking of the devil…” Fay grumbled, gently pushing away and making a hand motion for Maisie to exit. “Run while you still can, I’ll handle them.”

Maisie laughed wholeheartedly, and scurried away after giving Fay a thankful smile. The silence broke again when a short girl in purple entered the scene, carrying an even tinier baby in her arms. “Ma! Help!” She whined, offering the toddler to Fay. “Darcy won’t stop pulling my hair!!”

Fay smiled in amusement, taking the baby in her arms and cradling it gently. “Meda, you know she’s just a baby, she hardly knows left from right.” The child, Darcy, proved Fay’s point by pulling at Fay’s own ruby locks a moment later.

Andromeda, the older of the two kids, folded her arms in disapproval, pouting. “Maybe we should start teaching how to behave then! Mortie doesn’t even do that! And she’s a dog!!”

“Dogs are smarter than babies, don’t you know?” Fay used her free arm to boop her daughter on the nose, only earning a bigger pout. The astrologist laughed, turning to walk towards the kitchen. “Aw, don’t be sad, Meda. How about I watch Darcy and you show me how good you are at frosting cookies?” She offered, holding up a canister of icing and gesturing to the food colorings they had available.

The purple girl lit up and dashed forward with enthusiasm, the astrologist smirked in victory.

-------

Fay was careful to pull out the steaming cookies from the oven with her good mitten. The others were worn down with age, from the years of only Fay and Maisie cooking together. Back then, a little stove burn meant little to nothing but now with her whole world helping her cook, it felt like life or death.

“Ma! Look! I made this one look like a monarchy!” Andromeda, the oldest squeaked, pointing at the cookie she was currently frosting.

Fay held back a snort, checking out the butterfly shaped cookie with black and orange frosting smothered all over. “The most beautiful monarch in all the land, Meda. Wanna save this one so Mommy can see it?” She asked.

The little one’s eyes sparkled at the recommendation. “Yeah, yeah! Mommy will like it and then I can show her how good I am at baking!”

“Oh honey, she already knows you’re a wizard in the kitchen. Who knows, someday you could be a professional!” Fay commented, storing the insect shaped cookie in a safe place to dry.

“… Really? You think I could..?” Fay was taken aback by the softness of her child’s voice, turning to see Andromeda looking at the ground shyly. “Everyone at school says I’m too clumsy, Ma. Nobody would want my cookies..”

The astrologist softened, walking over and crouching down to her child’s height. A hand softly carcasses Andromeda’s shoulder, before sliding to her chin and forcing her gaze back up. “Hey. Nobody starts off as a master. Not even me and Mommy did. We worked hard to be good at the thing we love because… well, we love it! And there’s no reason you can’t do the same, Meda.”

The purple child looked back, lip quivering with shining eyes. A hopeful look.

“Annnd, you’re just in luck! I happen to know an ultimate baker who I’m sure would love an apprentice.” Fay cooed, pinching the little one’s cheek gently.

That did the trick. The hope filled words and the promise to back it up, was all it took for Andromeda to lunge forward and hug her mom tightly. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, Ma! I’m gonna be the greatest there ever was!”

Fay laughed, hugging her back tenfold. “With the stars on your side, you can do anything, kiddo.”

Their moment was interrupted by icing being flicked onto the counter as they turned around. Darcy, the infant, found her way into the icing jar, her face and arms painted with the blue sugary substance.

“Can the stars stop Darcy from making messes too?” Andromeda asked, completely deadpan.

“Even the stars aren’t that powerful, sweetie.”

Fay grabbed wash clothes and cleaned up her youngest, looking down at the little one’s joyous face, who cooed and bounced in place. She couldn’t help herself from scooping Darcy up and planting kisses across her face as the baby giggled and squealed.

Andromeda joined in, tackling them both onto the couch, and forming a big cuddle pile for the family. Laughter filled the air, and Fay never felt more content than she did right now. This was a good life, the one she always prayed for.

The kids fell asleep in the middle of their chosen film, leaving Fay plenty of time to get up and clean the kitchen. Looking over the job well done, Fay turned and startled at someone standing right behind her.

“It could’ve been nice, huh?”

Maisie, hair hanging low and disheveled, outfit torn and ripped in many places, and worst of all, her eyes were lifeless and cold. Her appearance shook Fay to her core, feeling a knot in her stomach. “May…? Wh-What happened? Are you okay?” Fay reached out to take Maisie’s hand in her own.

Maisie pulled her arm away like lightning, staring back at Fay, voice as empty as her expression. “I think it would’ve been beautiful. But.. you had to mess it up. Right, Faith?”

“What are you talking about-“ The astrologist began, eyes wide when a hissing noise hit her ears. Looking over to where Andromeda and Darcy lay sleeping, she could see their forms fading away into dust, fluttering through the wind.

“N-No, wait-!” Fay pleaded, lunging forward to try and grab both of the kids, but all she felt was ashes shifting through her palms. The last image in her mind, of their peaceful expressions while unconscious.

“Maisie… what did you do? Why are they g-?” She began, unable to get off of her knees or tear her eyes away from the now empty sofa.

“What did I do? Aw… Starlight…” Fay could hear Maisie breathlessly giggle, stepping forward from behind, Fay could feel her combing her hands through her ruby locks. “What have you done? That’s the real question. Is your life.. better without me in it? Do you miss me?”

Fay was frozen in time, struggling to process Maisie’s words. But almost on instinct, Fay reached out and clung to Maisie’s arms. She couldn’t lose her too. “Everyday. A-All the time. I think about you always, M-May. I love y-you. Why do you think I-I wouldn’t..?”

Maisie hummed, eyes staring down at her childhood friend with no sympathy for the pain in her eyes. “Nobody kills the people they love, silly. If you love me so much, why’d you let me die?”

Fay felt her throat clench up, grip on Maisie weakening, feeling unfit to even hold onto someone who meant so much to her. One question. That was all it took for her to snivel like a child pleading to escape punishment. “I….” She stalled, gritting her teeth, tears clouding her vision. “I’m so sorry…”

Maisie smiled, eyes narrowed into slits. The grin wasn’t genuine, more like one a teacher gives a student whom asked a particularly stupid question. Her violet pupils gleamed in the creeping darkness of the room, flashing with a tint of red. “You will be.”

Fay gasped as she could suddenly feel her body being grabbed. Looking downward, the astrologist could see…. nothingness. A black abyss full of long arms, all reaching out and hooking onto Fay. The long claws of the hands dug into her body, but she felt no pain. Without any agony to focus on, all Fay could do was stare up at Maisie. The dancer smiled back, her only reaction being a slight head tilt.

Even when the world faded into darkness once again, the last image Fay could see was Maisie smiling at her downfall.

What have you done?

“Fay!!”

The astrologist jolted awake, heart pounding in her chest and looking left and right for Maisie. But it was no use, everything was dark again. Was she sucked into the hole? Would she never get out? Is this what she deserves..?

Fay gasped at the feeling of tiny hands grabbing her arm, and the sensation of something fuzzy nuzzling against her. Mortie. She was trying to comfort her master. While the hands belonged to…

“Hey! Hey!!” Putri squeaked like an indignant chicken, pulling on Fay’s arm to get herself noticed. “What’s the matter with you?? You woke up screaming! You fool, you’ll wake my goddess if you’re too loud, y’know?”

Fay was slowly coming back to reality, and it smacked her square in the face with a brick. The sudden pitfall of despair welled up in her chest, tears spring onto her lashes. She couldn’t even open her mouth to speak.

This was her reality. She didn’t have a family. None of it was real. It never would be.

“W-What’s wrong…? Why are you-?” Putri began, the worry in her voice clear, but it came too little too late. Fay rolled over in her bed, curling into herself and despairing. The dancer cringed uncomfortably, not enjoying the sound of Fay’s pain. “H-Hey, calm down. It’s… it’s okay.”

Mortie nudged her way between Fay’s arms to be held for comfort, while Putri hopped up on the bed and began awkwardly patting the astrologist’s arm. “Don’t cry… it was just a dream. It’s over now…” She attempted to sooth her friend.

But, Putri wasn’t aware that was the problem. It was just a dream.

#💥 live action 💥#💖 fay speaks 🌟#🌸 putri speaks 🔥#tw: nightmares #(( torture fay night ❤️ ))

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taeken-my-heart · 4 years

Text

Moirai Chapter 12

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 5651

Chapter notes: Nothing terrible, a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff. The usual, haha

++++

Work came far too early the next day and you tiredly rubbed your eyes as you made your way towards the nurse’s station where Lizzy was standing, a coffee in her outstretched hand.

"Wow, you weren't lying when you texted you looked like a zombie." She quipped, "Aren't you glad I got you a pick me up?"

"Always an angel." You murmured, pulling the coffee to your lips and sighing into it as you leaned your elbows against the counter.

"So, I saw him." Lizzy replied smoothly.

"Who?" You asked, eyes still firmly shut as you focused on not sleeping where you stood.

"Dr. Jeon, of course." Lizzy sighed, slapping your arm.

"Oh." You said, eyes opening and staring down at your paper cup. Honestly, you'd forgotten about him in the aftermaths of a late night giving physical comfort to Jimin and an early morning at the hands of the sweltering heat.

"Oh?" Lizzy repeated blankly, "Y/N, no physical description does him justice and all you can say is oh? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," you said softly, "just really tired. Didn't get much sleep last night."

"Oh," Lizzy smirked, "really? What exactly was keeping you up, my dear friend?"

"Take a wild guess." You chuckled and Lizzy squealed like a teenage girl. "You act like you haven't gotten any in months!" You complained.

"I haven't!" She whined, "I'm living vicariously through you so you have to be generous with me."

"I am not sharing the details of my sex life with you, Lizzy." You smirked and she pouted.

"Well, the least you could do is give me regular updates of the good doctor."

“Lizzy!" You complained, "I've got better things to do, you know. Besides, I have a boyfriend and I don't think he'd like me paying so much attention to another man."

"Again, I am living vicariously through you. My appetite must be filled or I cannot be responsible for my actions." She insisted.

The doors to your right suddenly swung open and you glanced over to find Jungkook walking towards the nurse’s station, already dressed in his scrubs and dark hair pushed back across his head.

You watched as Lizzy practically drooled and you had to stifle your groan. "I was told you had a file for the Gibbons surgery." Jungkook said, coming to stand beside you at the nurse’s station, his gaze trained on Lizzy.

"Oh, yes I do, let me just grab that for you." She squeaked.

You stood silently, staring at the wall and squeezing your coffee just a little too tight and you noticed Jungkook incline his head towards you. "Good morning, doctor."

"Ah, yes, good morning." You replied awkwardly.

"You slept well; I trust?"

"Yes, I slept fine, thank you."

Jungkook nodded silently before the two of you plunged back into silence and Lizzy finally found the file, frowning at you with furrowed eyebrows as she handed him the file. "Here you are, Dr. Jeon."

"Thank you." He replied, flipping it open and waltzing back through the doors he'd come through.

"What the hell was that?" Lizzy asked.

"What was what?" You asked, casually.

"Oh, no, no. You can't act all coy and avoid the elephant in the room. The air was so tense just now, even I could feel it and I'm pretty oblivious. What happened between you and the good doctor? You only met him yesterday!"

You sighed, fiddling with the lid of your drink and shrugging. "Look, it would take too long to explain and right now I honestly am not in the mood for it. I'll explain it to you someday...maybe."

Lizzy pouted and you smiled softly. "Well, I suppose I can't pry it out of you, but just know I will probably die of curiosity."

"That's a shame," you hummed, "I was really growing fond of you." Lizzy's expression turned sour and you laughed, lifting your cup at her and backing away. "I'll see you later."

++++

Today you were spending most of the day in the blissful clutches of labor and delivery. Under normal circumstances you hated the labor and delivery unit. There were moments of reprieve where the mothers were thanking you profusely for the gift of an epidural but usually there was a lot of shouting and screaming, especially if you couldn't make it to their room in the 2.5 seconds after they requested your services.

However, anywhere that was not forcing you into Jungkook's company was a welcome relief and since he was spending the majority of his morning in trauma surgery, you were happy to greet your new favorite ward.

"You've got an epidural in room 12." One of the nurses sighed in lieu of a greeting. "She's been asking for you for the last 30 minutes in between crying and hitting her husband for ‘putting her through this.’"

"Oh goody." You smiled. "I suppose I'll head that way, then."

You were honestly trying to like the maternity unit, you really were. Babies and life were beautiful things and of course you knew that, but the ugly head of debilitating pain always reared its head in the form of screaming mother's to be and that could be overwhelming for even the most practiced of physicians. You were more used to your patients making no noise at all because 9 times out of 10 you were assigned to some sort of surgery that didn't involve neonatal work but there was always that occasion. Today you at least had 2 cesarean sections and that was an area you felt you could thrive in.

Despite your best efforts at keeping a positive attitude, you were absolutely exhausted by the time you slouched into your seat in the cafeteria and Lizzy looked up at you from her yogurt and grinned. "Babies got you down?"

"No!" You insisted, sitting straighter, "in fact, I'm having the time of my life over there. I'm just tired from last night, that's all."

"OK." Lizzy grinned and you rolled your eyes at her.

"So how has your morning been?" You asked, unrolling your sandwich and picking through it for any tomatoes and dropping them on Lizzy's plate.

"I suppose I can't complain. I really only had to draw a couple vials of blood and give one sponge bath. You know I'm jinxing myself right now, though, right?"

"Probably," you admit with a grin, "you'll have to let me know how things go the rest of your shift."

"What about you, Ms. L&D? How's your shift really going?"

You shrugged, swallowing your bite. "It's OK, the usual, you know? There is a sense of freedom, though."

"Really? Normally you say it makes you feel like you've been given a prison sentence."

You laughed, nodding and crumbling the sandwich wrapper in your hands as you gobbled half the sandwich in one bite. At this rate, trying to avoid conversation with your friend was going to cause indigestion. "Yeah, that's normally the case. Today isn't so bad though, I find I suddenly have the stomach for it."

"What changed?"

"The scenery."

"The scenery?" Lizzy asked, eyebrows rising, "I don't get it. Did they get some new potted plants or something?"

You glanced down at your watch before standing and stretching. "Hey, I've gotta go take a quick power nap before I head back to maternity. We can chat later, OK?"

"Fine," Lizzy pouted, "but you've gotta stop avoiding my questions. I'm just going to keep asking."

"I know you will." You grinned, popping the last bite of sandwich into your mouth and walking away with a wave.

++++

The on-call room in your hospital was an unfortunate mix of three sets of bunk beds, one single twin, and a mini fridge on a small wooden table that looked like it was about to give up the ghost. Thankfully no one was in there when you arrived so you dropped down onto the one single mattress (the coveted single twin was prime real estate in the room) and flipped yourself back to bury your head in the pillow. You had an hour until your next scheduled appointment (unless you got paged) and you intended to use the opportunity catching up on the sleep you'd missed last night.

Just as your eyelids were becoming heavy with sleep the door clicked softly as it opened and closed and you pouted, keeping your eyes firmly shut as you grasped at the tendrils of sleep now escaping your vision.

"Sorry." Came the soft baritone and you resisted the urge to shiver. His voice had always been deep but age had served to deepen it further.

"It's fine." You mumbled, refusing to open your eyes to look at him, even as he took the bottom bunk beside you. You could hear the springs squeaking as he shifted a few times and almost smiled. "If you're looking for a comfortable way to lay, you'll be hard pressed to find it. The beds here are all a bit sad, aside from this single mattress that Dr. Watson affectionately named "Bertha"."

"Charming name." Jungkook quipped. "You don't happen to need to leave in the next few minutes, do you?"

You smiled, opening your eyes and glancing at the clock by the door. "I've still got 40 minutes."

"OK," He sighed, "well dibs after you leave."

"Fair enough." You nodded, closing your eyes.

"So," Jungkook murmured after a few minutes and you began to resign yourself to the idea that you probably weren't going to be getting much sleep. "I never knew you had an interest in medicine."

"To be fair, we never really 'knew' each other."

"We did when we were kids." He said softly and you opened your eyes, turning to look at him.

"Yes, we were friends when we were kids but then you got pretty mean for a while. Never did give me a satisfying reason why, either."

He sighed, shrugging. "Because I was a stupid kid. I really don't have a good excuse for my behavior back then. I just hated that we were always forced together by our mom's and I took it out on you, even though it wasn't your fault. I guess it was right around the time that I started making friends with the other boys around and they were kind of mean about girls so I just started reflecting what I was seeing. I am sorry, though."

You chewed on the inside of your lip as you pondered your next words. "Doesn't really explain what happened in high school or, you know, when we got these." You raised your wrist slightly for him to see his name, partially obscured by the green of your scrubs.

"I didn't know what I really wanted back then." He sat up suddenly, leaning forward onto his knees and wringing his hands together. "See, the thing is-"

The chirping of your pager interrupted his next words and you glanced down at the message, frowning. "Someone is begging for an epidural up in L&D." You mumbled. Standing, you shoved your hands through your hair to try and tame it and readjusted the elastic of your pants. "Sorry."

You didn’t give him any time to reply before walking through the door and back out towards the maternity ward. The rest of the day was spent too busy to even breathe and by the time your shift ended you were slumping towards the door that hid your car from view.

“Doctor Y/L/N! Y/N, wait!” You turned to watch as Jungkook came to a halt by your side. “I’m off in 20 minutes, I was hoping we could grab a coffee or something and continue our conversation from this afternoon.”

“I don’t really think it’s such a good idea,” you said softly. “I’ve gotta get home to make dinner for my boyfriend and considering who you are…well, I don’t think Jimin would like that so much.”

“Considering who I am, maybe I could have 5 minutes of your time to just explain myself.”

“We talked about this, Jungkook.” You frowned.

“Y/N, I was 18 years old-”

You could see Lizzy walking down the hallway towards the two of you and the last thing you needed right now was to explain what your history was with the new surgical resident so you shook your head and stepped towards the door.

“I’ve gotta go, Dr. Jeon. Let’s just leave the past in the past, OK? Enjoy the rest of your shift.”

++++

Later that evening after you’d finished eating and the AC repair man had come and gone you looked up at the clock on the mantle, frowning. It was 9 o’clock and Jimin still wasn’t home. Sometimes things did run later with divorce cases and especially with this new couple, but he’d been strangely quiet the last few hours, normally he was sending you at least one eye rolling emoji if things ran overtime but so far…nothing.

You were lying in bed with a book before you heard the sound of his keys in the lock. Shuffling feet and a softly placed brief case met your ears before you finally saw him stepping through the door. “You’re home late.” You murmur softly and he jumped in surprise.

“You scared me.” He chuckles, before stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed, laying his head against your stomach and sighing. “I’m sorry I’m home so late.”

“Why didn’t you text me?” You questioned, running your fingers through his hair.

“Didn’t really get the opportunity.” You can hear the frown in his voice and in turn you found yourself frowning.

“Normally you manage to find time.” You wish you had better control of the bite in your voice but as it was you were too emotionally exhausted to really try.

Jimin sat up to look at you, leaning against the headboard. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

“What was the giveaway?” You mumbled, pulling your book back into your lap and resuming the page you were on last.

Jimin sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. “Baby, I was honestly just really busy today. On top of all of my other cases, I had three new clients today in office and then had to go into court to oversee the completion of one of our divorces and sign a ton of paper work. Then, to top it all off, Mrs. Johnson wanted to meet to discuss some details of the divorce with her husband. He’s trying to shift some funds into another account outside of the country or something, I don’t know. Look, you know I would have messaged you if I could have, I just really didn’t have time.”

“You’ve had busier days than that before and managed to find time, I don’t know why today was so different.” You sniffed, putting your book down and sliding under the covers, turning out your light. “Let’s just talk in the morning, I’m tired.”

“Babe,” Jimin groaned, flipping you onto your back and hovering his face over yours, stroking his thumb down your cheek. “Come on, tomorrow is our anniversary. Please, let’s not fight. I want to enjoy our day off together.”

You sigh, rubbing your eyes and nodding. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just really stressed at work these days. “

“Is something going on? Someone bothering you?” He asked gently, peering down at you in the dark.

This was not the time for this conversation. What were you supposed to do, tell your boyfriend that your soulmate had reentered your life? That he was trying to make amends and “talk”? That was a conversation you did not foresee going well so you smiled, shaking your head.

“No, nothing like that. Just medical stuff, you know. I was back in the labor and delivery department today; you know how I feel about that.”

“Will you be there next shift?” He asked, laying his hand across your stomach.

“No, they only need me sometimes. Usually Dr. Gray takes those shifts but she was out of town so I was filling in. I don’t know, work has just been stressful and I know it’s not your fault. I just felt upset that you didn’t call or text or anything.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know what was going on. I’ll be more mindful of it in the future, I promise.”

“Thank you, baby.” You whispered, reaching up to kiss him softly. “Did you think about anything you wanted to do tomorrow?”

Jimin smiled, wrapping his arm tight around your waist and pouting in thought. “I for sure want to sleep in, then some lazy sex, breakfast in bed, the usual.”

“And who’s making the breakfast, hmm?” You teased and he grinned.

“We’ll order in, how about that?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed.” He yawned, standing from the bed and stretching his hands above his head, “you gonna be asleep by the time I get back?”

“Most likely.” You grinned.

“Well then, see you in the morning, my love.” He leaned over, kissing soft into your lips and you sighed, linking your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“Goodnight.” You whispered against his mouth.

++++

You woke to the smell of pancakes, inhaling deeply and rolling to your side, hand flailing out against an empty mattress. Eyes blinking blearily open, you glanced around your room, but Jimin was nowhere to be seen.

You could hear pans banging in the kitchen and you smiled, laying back against your mattress. The cotton of your duvet brushed against bare legs and you stretched your arms above your head. You liked the idea of Jimin making you breakfast in bed, though he wasn’t very quiet about it.

You stood, long shirt drooping to your knees and made your way out into the living room. Jimin stood at the counter top, carefully cracking eggs, but when you entered the room he whined loudly, stomping his foot. “Ah, you’re supposed to still be asleep. I wanted to surprise you.” He pouted.

You smiled, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I was thinking…maybe we could skip the food and go straight to dessert.” You whispered, nipping at his chin and he turned to look down at you, eyes darkening.

“Trust me, you’re gonna wanna eat. You’ll need a lot of energy for what I have in store.” He replied; husky.

Your stomach churned with electricity, chest crackling in excitement. “I like the sound of that. I don’t wanna wait, though.”

You kissed at his jaw, making your way towards his lips and he melted into you, mouth hot against your own as you opened to him, running a hand across his lower abdomen. “Mmm, food first, you naughty baby.” He replied, slapping you hard on the butt and you yelped, glaring before sulking back to the bedroom.

“I was thinking we could lounge and watch a movie today.” Jimin said, walking back into the bedroom a few minutes later with a tray full of food. You held it for him as he sat down, placing it in the center and grabbing for a piece of toast.

“Did you have a movie in mind?” You asked, turning to look at him.

He shook his head, pushing his fork into one of the sausages on his plate and taking a bite. “No, you can choose.”

“What if I choose something so horrendously sappy that you want to vomit?”

“Then I would still love you,” he said, tilting his head to the side, “but I’d have to go to therapy for all the damage inflicted. On your dime, of course.”

“Of course.” You nodded, grabbing a grape from the fruit bowl on the tray and popping it into your mouth.

“Let’s finish breakfast and then we can watch a movie.”

“What about sex?” You pouted and he smirked, tweaking your nose.

“Who said we need to be in the bedroom for that? We could multitask, you know.”

“I like the sound of that.” You purred, leaning over to give him a kiss.

++++

Later that evening, after making dinner together and laughing late into the night, lounging back into the cushions of the couch. Jimin ran to grab something from the bedroom, promising a big surprise. You watched after him as his figure disappeared into the dark of your bedroom, heart thumping eagerly in your chest.

He returned shortly, a small gift bag in his hand and grinned, sitting down beside you. “I wanted to get you something special. We’ve been together 8 years now, which is incredible, don’t you think? Anyway. This year just feels really special and I wanted to get you something big; something that would remind you how much I love you.”

Your heart raced in your chest; pounding against your ribcage. A small, blue velvet box rested inside the bag and you reached in, breath stilling in your lungs. Jimin watched you eagerly, eyes bright and lips rubbing together in anticipation as you slowly opened the box.

“Oh…” A pair of sapphire earrings blinked up at you from the cushion of their casing. Nothing like the engagement ring you’d been expecting.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“Nothing. They’re beautiful, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I…I just assumed…” You trailed off, bottom lip wobbling. All that anticipation built up and still…no ring.

“What did you assume?”

“Are you ever going to propose?” You whispered, and you could already feel the burn of your eyes filling with tears.

Jimin sighed, rubbing at his temples in aggravation and laying back into the couch. “Y/N, I really don’t like when you pressure me.”

“When have ever I pressured you?” You cried, swiping at a tear as it slipped down your cheek. “I’ve never said anything!”

“It’s not with words, baby. You think I haven’t seen the magazines you leave around, wedding rings, wedding dresses, ring sizes? I’m not obtuse, Y/N. I know you want to get married and I know we’ve been together a long time, but I’m just not there yet. Marriage is just a social construct, like soulmates. Just the government and the media trying to get us to do what they want.”

“What?” You gaped, brushing angrily at the tears staining your cheeks, “where is this even coming from? You’ve never told me you thought so poorly of marriage. We both agreed that we don’t like the whole soulmates thing, but marriage? I thought we were on the same page! It’s been 8 years, Jimin!”

“I just don’t know if I’m a marriage type of guy!” He huffed and you glared at him.

“You should have figured that out 8 years ago before dragging me along and wasting my time. I could have been married by now.”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. I didn’t say I don’t want to get married, I said I don’t know if I do.”

“That’s practically the same thing.” You hissed, pulling your arm away from him as he reached out for you. You stood, legs wobbling with emotion.

“Y/N, I love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and right now if I pushed myself to get married, I feel like it would really ruin a good thing. Please, just give me more time. You’re the only one I could ever actually envision myself marrying.”

“Then why won’t you?” You fussed, crossing your arms over your chest. He ruffled his hair in aggravation, standing and walking towards you carefully, watching your every move as though you might take off running, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

“I love you. More than anyone in this entire world and I want to share my life with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready for marriage right now. I’m only 31.”

“How much longer are you going to make me wait?” You whispered, “I can’t wait around forever. I want a marriage and children, Jimin. Don’t string me along if you really don’t want that.” You looked up at him, his dark hair hanging down into his eyes.

“Just give me a little more time.” He pleaded, pulling you tighter into him, “please.”

You sighed, heart heavy in your chest. In the end, you couldn’t imagine life without him. He was your best friend and the only man you’d ever really wanted. You were willing to wait a little while longer. “Fine,” you agreed, “but you need to figure this out, Jimin. I can’t wait around forever and I won’t. I deserve more than that.”

“You’re right.” He agreed, “I promise I’ll be thinking about it and I’ll give you an answer. Just give me…just give me a year, one year. Please.”

“OK.” You nodded, “One year. But then you’ll have to make up your mind. Marriage and children may not be important to you, but it’s important to me.”

“I can accept that.” He nodded, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours. You melted against him, lips warm against yours and you inhaled deeply as you pulled away. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, pulling from his arms and retrieving the gift he’d gotten you. “I was thinking…I got you a gift too and it’s in the bedroom. Why don’t I wear both your gift and my gift…and nothing else?”

Jimin grinned wolfishly, holding your hair out of your face as you slid the earrings into place. “That sounds like a really good idea.”

You looked up at him and he smiled, running the pad of his thumb against your ear. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him into the bedroom.

++++

“So, I was thinking. We should do a welcome dinner for Dr. Jeon. It’s been two weeks now and I’m looking for an excuse to get obnoxiously drunk and not be judged for it. Plus, getting to look at his face for a couple hours is like a cherry on top of that already beautiful cake.” Lizzy spun her straw in her drink, feet kicked up on the seat across the table from her.

You glanced down beside you, the dirty soles of her sketchers greeting you. She smiled at you, cheek dimpled and you took another bite of your mashed potatoes. Somehow, by the grace of the gods, you’d been giving a longer lunch than normal, so you’d indulged in calorie dense cafeteria food to sooth you.

“Your bias is showing.” You said, staring over at her, spoon hanging from your bottom lip and she scoffed.

“I’m not biased! We’ve always had a welcome dinner for new doctors so it’s not like it’s a weird thing to suggest. I wouldn’t even be surprised if one was already being planned by the supe. Come on, where’s your party spirit?”

“Left it at home.” You shrugged, picking at the roll on your plate. It was a little stale, but it was cafeteria food, after all.

“Is this seat taken?” You looked up to find Jungkook standing beside you, peering down at the seat that Lizzy’s feet currently occupied. Lizzy quickly sat up, dropping her feet back down to the ground and smiling wide, waving for him to sit down.

“No, of course not! Sit down doctor. We were actually just talking about you!”

You glared over at her and she smiled pretty, pushing a corkscrew curl out of her face. Jungkook took the seat beside you, the legs of his chair squealing against the linoleum tiles and he looked between the two of you.

“You were talking about me?” He asked, eyes wide, “good things, I hope.” He smiled and you could practically see Lizzy melt.

“Of course.” She giggled, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and you looked at her like she’d sprouted a third head. She cleared her throat, sitting up straighter and leaning forward. “Actually, we were just talking about how we should throw you a welcome dinner. We do it for all the new doctors, or at least the ones we like.”

Jungkook chuckled good-naturedly and you wanted to die. “Ah, yeah, Dr. Ramirez actually mentioned that to me earlier. I think he said the administration is planning one for this Saturday night.”

“Excellent!” Lizzy beamed, “we usually do it in the breakroom since we can’t all take the night off to go out to eat, but we can spare a few minutes to stop by and say hello. Plus, the catering is pretty rad so it’s good for moral.”

You smiled, nodding, “I’m certainly never opposed to free food.”

Jungkook looked over at you, lips quirking at the edges and you looked back down at your food. “Sounds like it’ll be a good time, then.”

Lizzy’s pager beeped and she swore, looking down at it with a sigh. “Duty calls. Anyway, Y/N, I’ll find you later before I leave. I’ve got a dentist appointment so I’m gonna be leaving a little earlier today.”

You nodded, waving her off and she smiled, waving to the two of you before making her way out of the cafeteria and out of sight. You could feel your shoulders, coiled in tension as the sleeve of Jungkook’s scrubs rubbed against yours. He said nothing for a moment, just munching at one of the meatballs from off of his spaghetti and you took another bite of your potatoes.

They were nearly gone and you mourned their loss.

“I like your earrings.” He said suddenly and you looked up at him, fingers going to touch the sapphire studs in your ears.

“Thank you. They’re from Jimin, for our 8 year anniversary.”

“He chose well,” he remarked, looking down at you, “they really suit you. He’s a lucky guy.”

“Thank you.” You murmured, shoving a large bite of stale roll in your mouth to occupy yourself. You still had 10 minutes left in your break and didn’t intend to stand on your feet unless you absolutely had to.

“Lizzy seems nice.” He remarked and you nodded.

“She is; she’s my best friend. You gonna try and date her too?”

Jungkook huffed a laugh, looking down at you. “All I said was she’s nice. I’m just trying to make conversation Y/N. I thought you said you don’t want to talk about the past?”

“I don’t.” You sniffed.

“Well, then what would you like to talk about?”

“Preferably nothing.”

“Come on, Y/N, we’re colleagues, let’s try to get along, hmm?” He chuckled as you shook some hair from your face, taking a sip from your water bottle.

“Fine, you’re right. How’s your residency going?” You turned to look at him and he smiled bright. It made your heart ache but you refused to shrink from it.

“Well, it’s only been a couple weeks, but I’m pretty happy with it so far. The people are really nice, the hospitals facilities are excellent. I didn’t think I’d be getting to work with such state of the art technology so that’s been really exciting. Plus, my parents were thinking about coming to visit this weekend so I’ll get the opportunity to bring them to the hospital and show them around before the welcome dinner.”

“How are your parents?” You smiled, “I haven’t seen them in years. I think the last time was just after I graduated with my bachelor’s degree.”

“They’re great. They’ve been traveling around the world a lot. Making me look like a chump with all their cool adventures. What about your family? How are they?”

“They’re all really good. My parents are mostly just chilling. My dad is still working so my mom joined a Zumba club to keep herself entertained. Ella is actually getting married in about 3 months as well, so that’s really exciting.”

“Yeah, she actually sent my family and me an invite. I’m really happy for her.”

“She sent you an invite?” You asked, eyebrows rising.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I know, it seems crazy right? We made amends years ago, though, so all is well.”

“Wait, really?” You asked, turning to face him and he nodded.

“Yeah, she didn’t tell you?” At the shake of your head, he continued, “I was a sophomore in college and one day I just decided to call her and check in, see how she was doing. I wanted to apologize to her for dragging her through so much crap, it was never my intention. I really valued her friendship at a time when I felt like I was going crazy and losing it was pretty painful. We talked it out and she forgave me. I’m really glad she found her soulmate, she deserves to be happy.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.” You frowned, finishing off the last bite of your food.

“She probably thought she was sparing you, by not talking about…well, about me. Anyway, yeah, she sent me an invite and I’m excited to say hi to her and Michael. Have you met him yet?”

“Yeah, briefly last year, not long after they met.” You said, distracted. Your pager suddenly beeped and you glanced down at it. “Ah, I’ve gotta go, but it was nice talking Jeon.”

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he called as you stood up, grabbing your tray. You paused to look at him. “You’ll be at the dinner, right?”

“I work that night, so I’m sure I’ll sneak in at some point to grab some food.”

“Come say hi?” He asked carefully, “I bet my parents would love to say hi.”

You looked down at him, dark hair swept to the side of his face and looking so handsome you almost couldn’t look away. “Sure,” you quipped with a shrug, “I’ll make sure I say hi.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You nodded before spinning around and going to return your tray, making your way back out into the hallway.

++++

Ahhh. This chapter was so fun to write! The more I write this story, the more I love it. I am so, so excited for the next few chapters to come. Some interesting things are gonna be happening ^^ Also, I have a job interview tomorrow. Wish me luck! <3

Chapter 11

Chapter 13

#btsbookclub #jungkook scenario #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Text

A Gentle Blade Part 24

Part 23 here

3,190 words on this one. I think the last update explains why this one is as long as it is. Up for the reveal? *wiggles eyebrows*

@tears-and-lilies

******

Leera woke on her own, presumably at night, though she couldn't tell. She felt as though she'd barely slept. Her head had still been on Kastion's shoulder and she smiled slightly before realizing the corners of her mouth were wet. She lifted her head in a hurry, looking to the shoulder she had previously been laying on. There was a dark circle on the prince's shirt.

She considered waking him up now, but decided embarrassingly that she should wait until her drool spot was dried up. How humiliating would that be? Extremely.

But why? Surely a prince drooled, too. Leera was almost sure if the roles had been reversed then it would be she who had a wet spot on her shoulder. But he was a prince, and this was the problem. She was lost in the idea of him being a prince, of him being the stuckup, rich king at dinner. Poised and insulting. Make no mistake. Be inhuman. Kastion wasn't that kind of prince. Kastion was Kastion.

Sure, drool was still disgusting, whether it came from a prince's mouth or an assassin's. But it wasn't so humiliating to Leera now that she acknowledged whose shoulder she drooled on. Not a prince's, but Kastion's.

Would Leera ever feel fully comfortable with him being a prince? Enough to hear the title and not fall into a pit of previous trauma? It will take some time, she thought, but it's achievable. After their conversation last night, she felt better about it- whatever it was.

Were they in a relationship now? If they were, what did that mean? Leera supposed it meant nothing more than it already did. They enjoyed one another's company, but what would happen once they escaped? Kastion had responsibilities. He would have to return home and tend to his father while also helping his mother make decisions for their kingdom. Where would that leave Leera? She would live as she did before, hopping between inns and barns, finding a new warm place to sleep every night. She would scrounge up papers and ink to post notices on town boards so that someone would hopefully hire her.

That brought up an entirely new question. If she didn't- the thought was difficult. If she didn't become a queen, would she return to being an assassin? Leera figured she would try to. After all, she still wished to rid the world of evil men and women. She would just have to be sure to not get caught. Leera could have completed at least two contracts by now if she hadn't been caught. Then again, would anyone ever hire her now that she already had been captured?

Too many conflicts were arising in the assassin's mind. Soon they would make her go mad, as if she hadn't been already. With a laugh, Leera tried to imagine this was all a dream. At what moment would she have fallen asleep if it was a dream? Before the capture, surely. Or maybe not. Maybe she really was captured and it was Kastion which was the dream. A hallucination.

It was now that the prince stirred. Leera watched as his eyes became open and he blinked away his sleepiness. "You're already awake," he said gruffly. He yawned, covering his long mouth with a hand. Leera only acknowledged the action because she always did the same thing when she yawned, even if no one was around. It was something she picked up from her uncle.

"I am," She peered at his shoulder. The drool was nearly gone, thankfully, and he didn't seem to notice it. "Haven't been for awfully long, but long enough to notice your snores."

His eyes widened. "I snore?" He asked it as if he were horrified. It made Leera laugh.

"It was a joke, but it was entertaining to see your reaction."

Kastion lightly threw his shoulder into hers with a smile. "Suppose I'll have to find something else to jest you about."

She smiled back, but otherwise stayed silent. Now that Kastion was awake, all of the questions Leera thought up before were returning.

Today, Kastion would reveal himself to the queen. He would ask for her presence and ears and then he would put the ring on, telling her who he really was. And hopefully Rennera would remember that holding a prince prisoner was a likely cause for a war. But then-

"Kastion, you can't demand my release," Leera said.

"Why can't- oh."

Neither one of them thought of it before, but Leera truly was the queen's property. Seeing as she killed the king, she was a criminal of the lands. Rennera owned the assassin just as she owned everyone else here except for the prince.

"The only way for me to be released is by escaping or by you stealing me from her. The latter will cause a war." Before he could respond, Leera continued, "And I will not allow you to start a war over me. Get out of here yourself, and I'll find my own way out."

"Leera-"

She interrupted, already knowing he would say something stupid, something sweet. "No. You'll leave me. Do what is best for your kingdom, not me."

The two of them remained silent for some more time. Kastion, flipping through idea after idea, only discovering that most of them would not work. Leera, wondering how she would escape someday on her own. Maybe she wouldn't escape, but she could live with that if Kastion was safe in his own lands.

"Be my queen," Kastion said suddenly, the idea just dawning on him. He pulled Dogars' ring out of his pocket, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. "Take this and hide it somewhere on your person."

Leera shook her head. "Then you won't have proof of your status."

"I do. In my trousers that they stole away."

"And if they burnt your trousers?"

Kastion laughed full-heartily. "Well it's not made of wood. They'd have a rough time accidentally burning it in a fire."

***

Crooked shoved Kastion's shoulder towards the queen's door. He nodded at the bounty hunter to knock, and Kastion did.

Upon hearing Rennera's voice, Crooked called out, "It's the fish breeder. He wishes to have your private audience. Do you accept?"

The queen did accept, and so Crooked pushed the door open then pushed the prisoner in as well. Kastion noticed the guard taking in his noble- rather, royal- clothing, and thought that soon enough Crooked might be wearing them himself. Just another thing to deal with when he returned to Thharewood. It seemed war was bound to happen no matter what he and Leera did to avoid it. So why not go ahead and 'steal' the assassin?

"Close the door, my future king."

Kastion obeyed, even latching the door shut to satisfy his own worry that Crooked might bash in when he revealed himself as the Prince of Thharewood, if he even did it here.

"Now, what is it you wished to talk to me about? I don't suppose the assassin revealed herself as my spy, did she? The emissary did a better job at it than her."

He ignored her casual taunts. Rennera didn't know nearly as much as he did, and she would realize that soon. "I need my clothes back." Kastion's voice was a bit harsher than he intended, but it was mostly because the moment scared him. As often as he thought about it, he never considered what words he would use, what he would say in order to not offend Rennera.

"Those dirty rags you wore for- who knows how long? Why should you need those back?" The queen sat on her bed, her legs undoubtedly tucked beneath her dress as it was billowed out.

"To support the truth I know you will not believe."

Rennera smiled something wicked. She had darker lipstick on today than usual. The usual ruby red was now almost black and her teeth contrasted greatly next to them. "And what's that?"

"I think it will be better that you see it rather than hear it."

"My future king, I am intrigued. You should tell me before I lose patience and decide to do something more fun than wait for a truth you already think faulty."

"I'll tell you something more believable now, then," Kastion said and strode towards the bed. He sat on the very edge, not even enough that his whole bottom was rested. He whispered, "Every man and woman that works in this palace served happily for your last husband, didn't they?"

The queen felt the shift in his tone. Even as he was serious before, he was more so now. She nodded at him.

Kastion pointed to the door. "The man standing outside that door has an agenda of his own. I know why you want to marry me. I have proven to be a greater weakness than yourself and you value that image because of the former king. You want to appear stronger than who you marry."

He continued to explain what Crooked told him not so many days ago when Kastion had poisoned himself. About how the guard thought the queen fancied Leera, and how it even made sense because of the past king's abuse. Rennera loved Leera for killing the queen's abuser. He further explained how Crooked wished to be the next king and tried convincing Kastion to hand over the title when he received it.

At the end of Kastion's report, the queen said, referring to herself loving the assassin, "That is ridiculous!" The bounty hunter urged her to quiet down as Crooked was still on the other side of the door. It's why Kastion came to sit beside Rennera and began to whisper before, so that no one outside of this room could hear.

"I can help you," Kastion told her. "But I need you, or someone, to take me to my trousers. Unless you trust my every word, I need this. It's for both of our goods."

"You suppose you could stop a greedy man in a high position?" The queen tutted, shifting beneath her dress. "You might be my future king, but you were a bounty hunter, and a fisherman before that, my dear. You are not capable of destroying a throne and crown."

Fine. "I guarantee you that as a prince of a nation in these lands, I am perfectly capable of assisting in a political matter."

Truth be told, Kastion didn't intend on assisting Queen Rennera, but if it helped him and Leera escape unscathed, he would mutter any lie necessary.

Of course, Rennera did not believe the man in front of her was a prince. How could he be? He wore rags and came as a bounty hunter. What royalty would ever pretend to be anything other than royalty? Nevertheless, the queen escorted Kastion out of her room and to Servant's Circle, where servants of the palace completed many duties, one duty included cleaning very worn clothes, such as the bounty hunter's before he was changed into a king's clothing for dinner.

Kastion had to scavenge through various piles of stinky clothing like a cat trying to find a mouse in a thick stack of garbage. After many wasted minutes, he found his trousers in the last mass of cloth. They were more rank now than they were as he wore them, which was surprising given how he'd worn them for several weeks. It didn't matter how they smelled, it was the golden circle he fiddled with in the pocket of the pants he held now that mattered. He pulled the ring out, held it in front of his and Rennera's eyes.

"Thharewood," he said. "That is my home. That is my kingdom. It was to be Leera's as well before you kidnapped her. She has a ring just as well as I, if you need further proof."

Rennera didn't dare deny her eyes. The ring in front of her was true; gold with the royal seal of Thharewood on top like a stamp. It didn't necessarily mean Sir Guard was a prince, but perhaps he was a knight of a higher authoritative lord. It was in the nickname after all. Sir Guard. 'Sir' as in knight.

"You sought to marry an assassin?"

"I didn't know she was one," he lied. "It is the reason why I took up a false identity, why I brought her back when I found her in the woods. Anger," Kastion explained. "Anger like nothing else. But I can stop her from pursuing that flimsy occupation of hers if you only return her to me." This was the quickest lie the prince ever came up with, and he was afraid Rennera would sense it. So, he spit out a truth. "I am Kastion of Thharewood, the only male heir to King Gulldis and Queen Mofrin."

The queen squinted at him. "And your sisters names? Harvin mentioned the prince having sisters."

Harvin. Kastion guessed this was the guard he called 'Crooked'. It made sense. Crooked did mention Thharewood before the other nobles showed up to the first dinner.

Before he thought this, though, he immediately answered with his sisters' names. Rennera was obviously testing his truth telling. If he'd hesitated before answering, had to think about it first, she would have thought him a liar despite having the royal seal.

"I cannot just..." Rennera trailed off. She couldn't let Sir Gu- Prince Kastion- go. She'd already announced to every important figure in the lands that he was to be her next husband. Allowing him to leave would destroy every bit of the image she made. Not to mention it might make her a target. Rennera imprisoned a prince and his supposed fiancé. That wasn't something to be looked over, whether she was aware of it or not. And Leera killed the queen's husband. If she let the assassin out of the palace, it would appear that Rennera had gone soft. No, no it wasn't possible. But then if she refused to let Kastion out, a war would begin. The emissary from dinner was from Thharewood and he would have recognized his own prince. And if she did allow Kastion to leave, and not Leera, he would start a war on his own.

Surprisingly, she admitted the lot of these thoughts to Kastion once they returned to her bedroom. It was too late to prevent the servants from uttering what they saw and heard, about the reveal, in the Circle. But, the two royals could discuss pressing conflicts elsewhere, in a place where there were no prying ears besides Harvin's, and he couldn't hear whispers through a wooden door.

"You shouldn't worry about weakness if you take solace in my kingdom." Kastion then promised he would aid Rennera should she need it, and she would.

Rennera shook her head, feeling a bout of stressed tears in her eyes. "I can't. I don't- I don't know what to do. If what you said about the guard is true...what if he is just as bad as Loel?" In this moment, Rennera realized that she didn't trust Kastion to be any less abusive. Who would turn their loved one in to a queen- a queen that clearly tortured her subjects- just because of anger? Then again, Rennera wasn't exactly mad that Leera killed her king. Maybe Rennera was just as bad as everyone surrounding her.

"Follow behind me and Leera when we leave," Kastion said. The further this conversation went, the more willing he was to actually fulfill his promises. Perhaps taking the queen in wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps if she did come with then he could teach her how to listen to her people, since it's what Rennera truly aspired to do. But how could he possibly teach her such a concept when it was he who was a coward within his own rule? Kastion's people wanted violence and he didn't deliver. He hired an assassin, which was more than violent enough in his mind, but likely wouldn't be for them.

But it was okay. They could all take this one step at a time. The most important thing right now was that Kastion return home and that Leera be safe. They could figure out the rest later.

The queen proved her aspirations when she said, "The two of you are free to leave. I will occupy the guards so that they do not guard your cell as I take you back." She breathed. "But I must stay. I can't- It's not right for me to leave when I..." Rennera wasn't sure what to say. Really, she didn't even know how she felt. Nonetheless she settled for saying, "I am the queen of Misenian, and I should be here for my people. Even if I can't help them, I should at least be a leader enough that I suffer with them."

***

Rennera led Kastion to the cell after giving a short word to Crooked, urging him to gather all of the Guard in the Servant's Circle. It wasn't a suitable place for guards and they would undoubtedly question her notions, but she needed to do this. Rennera needed to redeem her actions. She was cruel because she was scared, and it wasn't fair. And she didn't think this because Kastion was a prince, but she could admit that it aided in her decision. How much further could this all go?

"Leera," Kastion said as soon as he reached the cell door. "We're leaving. Come on."

The assassin looked up bewildered, and her eyes widened as she noticed the queen standing behind Kastion. "Wha- You're serious?" She wasn't sure who the question was directed at. Either one, she supposed.

It was unbelievable- that Rennera would let them go. There were so many ways for this plan to go wrong, more so than there were for them to go right.

Leera looked up and to her left where chains dangled. I am dreaming. I have to be. She was still drooling on Kastion's shoulder unknowingly, wasn't she?

"My guards have been gathered in an unproblematic area," Rennera began, watching Leera's confusion morph into an odd, possible joy. "I will take you two to the stables and from there you are on your own. I wish there is more I could do for you, especially given how terrible I have been. The words will mean nothing, but I have never felt more remorse in my life. I pray the gods will not be so merciful as we usually pray they will be. I do not deserve it."

Kastion hardly listened. His only goal was to pull Leera from the floor onto her feet. He did this, and when she stood, he paused.

Certainly he wasn't about to cry, he thought to himself, but he was. His eyes stung, along with his nose. How he'd ever come to love an assassin in the dungeons...he did know. Most wouldn't. It would have been so unbelievable that most would have denied it, but Kastion couldn't. Leera was worth loving. There was no questioning that concept.

"We're free, Leera."

******

Part 25 here

#leera and rennera #part 24 #kastion #sir guard #identity reveal #royalty #royal v royal #royal whumpee #royal whumper #assassin whump #original series #a gentle blade

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13-reasons-ideas · 4 years

Text

Can’t Go Back Part 6

I woke up early the next morning so I could take my time getting ready and get some notes done before leaving. I slipped on my soft bunny slippers and quietly made my way downstairs.

“Morning Addison.” My dad said from the island. I jumped, not expecting him to be up this early on a Saturday.

“Jesus.” I muttered under my breath, “morning Dad.”

“You got in pretty late last night.”

“Yeah, had to wrangle Justin into the car and take him home.”

“Uh huh.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed myself a cup of tea before going back upstairs. I waved to my mom as she left the master bedroom and closed my door tightly. “How was your night last night Addison? It was good, thanks for asking dad.” I muttered to myself as I drank my tea and jotted some ideas down in my notebook.

Around ten thirty I decided it was time to start getting ready. I grabbed my panda shower cap and took a quick shower before putting on my black raspberry vanilla lotion. It was time for the real work to begin now. I stood in front of my closet and flipped through the options I had. I pulled out a few cardigan options and a few more casual dresses and paired them together on hangers before holding each option up to my body. The first option was a black cardigan and a red dress. “No, that’s too dark for a daytime coffee date.” Next up was a yellow dress with a cream cardigan. “Too bright. This cardigan is nice though….” Finally, I settled on a light denim blue dress sleeveless dress, with buttons down the middle. It hit my mid-thigh respectably and I paired it with the cream cardigan from before. Time for jewelry. Picking out a rose gold necklace with a circle pendant, my rose gold arrow bracelet, and my floral print watch band, it was time to tackle my hair and makeup. I went with a simple half up half down bun and left my second day waves mostly untouched. I did, however, fix the few curls that had completely fallen out and brushed them out with my fingers after they cooled slightly. I kept my makeup light and minimal, just some tinted moisturizer and a couple dots of concealer under my eyes set with powder, simple eyeshadow and brow powder, a thin line of brown liquid liner, nude blush, and a ‘my lips but better’ pink lipstick topped with nude gloss. Nothing too crazy, just enough to look put together. “Now to pick a pair of shoes… hmm. Let’s see. Sneakers?” I picked up my old pair of Converse. They were in less than ideal condition, especially for a first date. “Not sneakers. Flats?” I grabbed a couple of pairs but none of them really went. “No. Plus I’m short. These just make me look shorter. Maybe a pair of booties?” I pulled a pair of grey heels off the shelf, but they didn’t quite match well enough, “close, but no cigar.” I dug around in my closet for a couple of minutes, searching for the nude pair of the same shoes. “Ah ha. Found them.”

Setting the shoes by my bedroom door, I checked my watch. It was just after noon. I went downstairs to grab an apple from the kitchen. “Well don’t you look nice.” My mom mused, softly from her seat on the couch. She appeared to be grading papers and didn’t really look up. Teacher eyes. Dad was sitting opposite her reading the new issue of The Economist.

“Oh yeah, I’m just going to Monet’s for coffee with a friend from school. I have to leave soon.” After our short exchange, I zipped back upstairs to gather my things. I took a second to decide if I should bring my notebook. Never know when inspiration will hit. At the last second, I threw it into my bag, along with my favourite pen and slipped my shoes on. “I’m leaving now.” I called to my parents as I walked out the door.

“Have fun at the mall sweetie.” Dad mumbled after me, not even looking up from his magazine.

I arrived at Monet’s at five minutes to one and Monty was already there, waiting for me. The white shirt and red flannel he was wearing did wonders for his arms and toned chest. I tore my eyes away and mentally wiped away the drool, hoping it wasn’t too obvious I was staring. Looking up, I smiled at him and waved at him, my accent glitter pink nail polish catching the light. He waved back and I started towards him. “You look amazing.” He said, taking me in.

“You look good too. Not at all hungover.” I replied, looking down shyly, even after my quip and our public kiss the night before.

“What can I say, a cup of coffee and a shower work wonders.” He joked. It was slightly awkward while we waited in line. We hadn’t really talked much outside of classes, so we weren’t sure where to start.

“Do you want to share a slice of cake?” Monty asked.

“Sure. Anything but carrot.”

“Chocolate?”

“Delicious. The best kind of cake.”

“I agree.”

It was our turn and we did the totally cliché thing of starting at the same time. “What can I get you?” The barista asked.

“Can I get a-.”

“May I have-.”

Monty turned to me, “you first.”

“May I have a non-fat latte with a cinnamon stick please?”

“Sure thing. Did you want a syrup at all?”

“No thank you. Just a plain latte and a stick of cinnamon.” She typed in my request and turned her attention to Monty.

“And yourself?”

“I’ll just have a black dark roast. And a slice of chocolate cake with two forks.”

“Coming right up.” She replied, smiling as she typed in the order and Monty paid her. I scouted a table near the back and pointed it out to my date. He nodded at me motioned for me to go over.

“I’ve got this.” I nodded and made my way over. To pass the time I pulled out my notebook and doodled a bit, waiting for either him to come over or inspiration to hit. It wasn’t long before he followed and sat down.

“One non-fat cinnamon sticked latte for the lady.” He flourished, sliding the cup over to me. I smiled and blushed, before noticing he was trying to sneak a peek at my notebook. I shut it quickly and slipped it into my bag. He chuckled.

“Secret diary Addison?” At least we have moved past awkwardly stating facts. I stirred my latte as he watched me, waiting for a response.

“No, not secret. Just private.”

“So private you brought it on a date?”

“I don’t leave the house without it. And we never explicitly said this was a date.” I smirked.

“Well I’m saying it now. It’s a date.”

“Alright then. We have established that, so does this mean we can break into the cake now?” I asked, picking up my fork.

He laughed and his eyes shone under the soft lighting. “I thought you’d never ask. I didn’t want to be rude.” Picking up his fork, he urged me to take the first bite. It was wonderful. Perfectly moist and not too dense. Just the right cake to icing ratio, the chocolate not overpowering. I could feel my pupils dilate and watched Montgomery smirk. “Good?”

“Yes. Taste it.” He eagerly took a bite and I watched as his eyes widened and he sucked in a breath. He took the time to really savour the bite. When he was done, he looked at me, a sated look on his face.

“That was the best bite of cake I have ever had.” He whispered, as though speaking at a normal volume would ruin the moment. “I know right?” I whispered back.

“Do we take another bite?”

“I think so. Together?”

“On three.”

I nodded. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.” We said together, sticking our forks in the chocolate deliciousness, and biting at the same time. It was still great the second time around. After another bite each, we set the cake aside. I blew on my still hot latte and took a tentative sip. Monty was looking at me intently when I put my cup down.

“What?” I asked, my brow furrowing slightly.

“You have a little….” He motioned to his face. I did the same, apparently missing whatever was marring my face. “Here.” He reached over, swiping his thumb just above my lip, showing me the bit of icing before licking it off in a way that was somehow not gross, but rather, incredibly attractive. He took a drink from his cup and continued, “I’m surprised you didn’t bring a novel with you Addy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I hardly ever see you without your nose in a book or with a book in hand.”

“I do other things you know.”

“Mhmm. I’ve heard Justin talk about you in the locker room.”

“He talks about me?”

“Sometimes. Nothing bad I don’t think. I don’t really pay much attention to him if I’m being honest.”

“Huh. Okay. Well, I do. Other things I mean. And a lot of the time what I’m reading is for AP English Lit.”

“Like what?” He asked, sounding genuinely interested. He even sat up more and leaned closer to me. Wow. He actually seems to want to know.

“I like to cook. I like photography and designing photo albums. I’ve also been thinking of taking up knitting.”

“Busy girl then. Knitting? Think I could get a scarf sometime?”

“In California?”

“Maybe I’ll go somewhere it gets cold someday, who knows?”

“What about you? I mean, I know you’re an athlete. But what about when you’re not on the field or practicing? What do you like to do, just for fun?”

“I guess that is my hobby. Being an athlete is kind of what I do.”

“Oh come on. You have to have a hobby. Everyone has a hobby.”

“Would you judge me if I said video games?”

“Monty. I’m friends with Alex Standall. Video games are like… almost exclusively how he spends his time when he’s not with Jess or Hannah.”

“That’s fair. No judgement then?”

“Not from me.” I smiled. We chatted about mindless things for a while, like favourites and things we didn’t like. It was nice. We made our way through our drinks and our cake while we talked.

“Did you want another coffee?” I asked him.

“Sure.” He replied, reaching for his wallet.

“No, no. My turn. Snack?”

“If they have a lemon bar, that would be nice.” He replied, reluctantly putting his wallet away. Why do guy’s jeans get such big pockets? It really isn’t fair.

“I’ll be right back.” I said, grabbing my wallet. I ordered for us and got myself a cinnamon twist. I gave him a thumbs up when I caught his eye.

Once back at the table, I began picking apart my cinnamon twist.

“Is cinnamon a favourite then?”

“No, I would call it more of a like than a favourite.”

“Let me guess, vanilla?”

“No. Guess again?”

“Lemon?”

“Nope. Good, but no.”

“Some kind of berry?”

“Not even close. My favourite flavour is mint.”

“Cold and spicy. Would not have pinned you for cold and spicy.”

“More allspice?”

“Definitely what I would have guessed.”

“My turn?”

“Please.”

“Hmmm… black dark roast coffee, chocolate, lemon….” I thought out loud, “I would say vanilla, but you don’t seem like the type to do vanilla.” I left the connotation and innuendo without further comment. He didn’t comment on it either. I thought for a few minutes. He watched me think as we sipped our fresh coffees. “Cardamom.” I said finally. He blinked at me in surprise.

“That’s right. How did you guess?”

“It’s complex. It has layers.”

“And you think I have layers?”

“Yes. You’re complex. Interesting.” We didn’t tread further on the topic. Not first date discussion.

“What do you want to do?” He asked.

“Like, this afternoon? Or are you asking big picture?”

“Big picture but both is good.”

“This afternoon? Laundry and homework that I couldn’t do last night.”

“You want to do that?”

“It gets it done so I can enjoy Sunday doing nothing.”

“Alright, that makes sense. Big picture?”

I looked down into my latte, suddenly very shy. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“I highly doubt that Addy.” He replied, reaching across the table to take my hand. I felt a jolt in my arm but resisted the urge to look up.

“I want to be a writer.” I spoke quietly. I wasn’t sure if he heard me, too busy waiting for the laughter that was sure to come. When it didn’t, I looked up. “You’re not laughing.”

“Was I supposed to?”

“I don’t know.” I said, lamely.

“What kind of writer do you want to be?”

“I want to be an author. I want to write novels.”

“Why would I think that’s stupid?” he asked, confused.

“Because everyone else does?”

“I don’t.”

“That makes one, maybe two people who aren’t me who feel that way.”

“Two?”

“Justin. I think he only said it’s not because he is my best friend though.”

“What about your parents?”

I laughed. “My parents think I’m joking. ‘You can’t pay bills with books Addison.’”

“I think there are plenty of authors who make fairly decent livings actually.”

“I know. But my parents… my dad has an MBA from Stanford. My mom has a PhD in History from UCLA and is a tenured professor at Berkeley. Writing novels isn’t in the cards for me.”

He seemed to come to a realization then. “Your private notebook?”

“Never know when inspiration will hit.” I smiled.

“I thought it was a different kind of private.” He wiggled his brows.

“Only sometimes. Have to be in a certain headspace for it to be that kind of private.”

His eyes widened, “Addison Hawthorne!”

“What? It’s not like it’s wrong. It’s fun sometimes.”

“If you say so. But honestly. I don’t think it’s stupid.”

“What about you?” I asked, taking a bite of my cinnamon twist. Not going to dip it in my coffee on a first date. Weird food things are a fourth date thing.

“I mean, the dream is pro sports. I haven’t really thought about a fallback yet. I will have one of course. I’ll go to school for something, I just haven’t decided yet.”

“Would you choose football or baseball?”

“Probably football. I like it more. I mean, I love baseball too. It’s just not something I see myself doing for the entirety of my professional career.”

“That makes sense. I think if I had to choose another career, I would probably choose something to do with public policy. Ole Miss has an amazing public policy leadership degree and it’s interdisciplinary so my parents would only be able to complain about the school.”

“Your parents would complain if you got in to Ole Miss?”

“Yes. Not as much as they would complain about NYU though. Dad might actually keel over if I went there.” Monty tried really hard not to laugh but couldn’t help it. “I know. They just want me to go where they think I should go. If dad had his way, I would be shipped off to England for business at Oxford or something.”

“Oh, I can see you loving that.”

“Yes, it would be fantastic.” I said, sarcastically. I didn’t know whether to ask about his parents and their thoughts on his future. I also hadn’t expected him to have anything figured out past high school, we are only sophomores after all. I was slowly growing uncomfortable with the line of questioning. Thankfully, he changed the subject to something more manageable.

“Are you really as picky about pens as Justin bitches about in the locker room?”

“He talks about me?”

“Yeah. Usually only good things, I can assure you. Pens though. That he complains about. I think it’s all in good fun, but pens and some of your other quirks can get him going.”

“Huh. Interesting. He talks about you too by the way. Less nice though.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. But about these pens?”

“I guess you could say I’m picky. I like gel pens and they have to be medium point. If I use a liquid ink pen, then it has to be a fine point.”

“He said something about colours.”

“Yes, I use coloured pens for notes. Each class is a different colour.” He looked at me funny, “it’s a girl thing.” I explained.

“I see. He said you only like black bic pens?”

“That’s right. I didn’t realize you listened to him that much.”

“I don’t usually….”

“Usually?”

“When he’s talking about the girl I like, then yeah. I listen a little more.”

I blushed again, while I sipped my coffee, watching him over the rim of my glass. He admitted he likes you. “Does Justin really talk about me?”

“Yeah, mostly to bitch about you being an asshole. He does acknowledge that you aren’t bad at sports.”

“Not bad?”

“That’s as big of a compliment as you’ll get from Justin.”

“Not surprised. You listen to him talk about me?”

“Well. Uh. Yes?”

“Often?”

“It’s not like he can complain to Bryce about you.” I redirected.

“Right. Because he can’t complain to Bryce. That the only reason Addison?”

“I don’t know Montgomery. I guess you’ll just have to figure that out on our next date.” I was taken aback by my own forwardness. Where did that come from? Monty’s brow raised. Oh no. There isn’t going to be another date. He probably just did this to have something to joke about with the guys later. I just made a complete idiot of myself.

“I thought it was my turn to ask you on a date.”

“Oh.” I said. “Okay. I take it back then?”

“Nah, it’s okay. Next time I’ll ask you.”

“O-okay.” I stuttered, my blush returning once again. “Did you want to go get ice cream or something next week?”

“Wednesday? 4:30?”

“That works for me.” I told him, smiling.

“It’s a date.” We stood and before parting ways, he leaned down and kissed me softly. I smiled at him as we left the café, careful to not leave together. I replayed the kiss in my mind the whole way home.

#can't go back #montgomery de la cruz #monty x oc #monty de la Cruz fanfic #monty imagine #monty x reader #montgomery de la cruz imagine #montgomery de la cruz x oc #montgomery de la cruz x reader #Justin Foley #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfic writing

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angelbabylu · 5 years

Text

Something Wicked // LH

pairing: witch!oc x vampire!luke

word count: 5k

warnings: smut, fluff, magical stuff

notes: this is the most self indulgent thing i’ve ever done. it is comprised of a few different elements: first i got the idea for this from this book series about a witch falling in love with a vampire. on top of that, i’ve always been obsessed with higher education for supernatural creatures (like hogwarts but as a university) and i decided to add some of that element to this fic as well. next, there are a few allusions to Macbeth and Les Miserables in this because i really enjoyed how they fit with the story line. and finally, Luke is french in this?? bec i thought it would be hot & also i loved the idea of him being made a vampire during the french revolution. this fic ended up being mostly character and world building and then smut lol but i may revisit this universe again with some actual plot at a later date.

title: from Macbeth

:: ::

It was almost 9 pm when the wind began to pick up outside Margo’s half-opened window. It usually wouldn’t have bothered her–she loved the ominous rustle of the trees and the way the wind’s magic made her feel as if she could fly. But tonight, it was whipping jet black hair into a frenzy in front of her face, making it almost impossible to read the book of potion ingredients that sat in front of her. At first, she had tried tucking the offending strands behind one ear, then another. When the hair tie she used to secure it into a curly knot atop her head broke, she groaned in frustration, her head slamming on the desk with a dull thud.

“Alright you fucking mop,” Margo growled to her curls. “I’ll close the window.”

She was surprised to find the rest of her room dark when she moved away from the incandescent lamp that lived on her desk. The enchanted item had slowly increased in brightness as the sun had given way to its rival, assuring that Margo’s studies weren’t bothered by such trivialities as not having enough light to read.

It took only five long strides for Margo to cross her room, but in that time her mind had moved from the conveniences of being a modern witch back to the potions test she was going to take the next day. Mutely, she recited the four fundamental potion bases and what effects they could help achieve. She was on the third when a bright flash of lightning pulled her from her thoughts and stilled her hand on the window sill.

That explained the way her hair was behaving, at least. There was a thunderstorm brewing, and her hair’s natural propensity to disobey increased whenever electricity stirred in the air. She closed the window and went back to her desk; she had more important things to worry about. By the time the deep roll of thunder disturbed the air, she was tucked back in her chair, nose buried in her book.

Margo didn’t look up again until her senses drove her to do so. There was a slight tingling in her thumb–a witches sixth sense that told her another being was coming her way. Eventually, she didn’t need any of her preternatural senses–the loud clacking of heels against old wood floors announced the arrival easily enough.

Mildly annoyed, Margo sat back. It was too much to ask for more than a few hours to herself–especially when her sisters were involved. She had barely taken a full breath before the door to her room was slammed opened revealing Serena, dressed in what had to be her most revealing outfit all year. The leopard print skirt was tight and short, struggling to fully cover the entirety of her ass. The top–well Margo wasn’t sure if she could call it a top. It was more a flimsy piece of mesh and two strips of fabric to cover her breasts. But if anyone could pull it off, it was Serena. It was not just her amazon like appearance that made this possible, but also the obvious confidence that rolled of her and the way she commanded attention as soon as she entered a room.

Much like she did now.

But Margo had known Serena too long to be intimidated by her.

Raising an eyebrow tauntingly, Margo asked, “Trying to catch an incubus?”

The sharp sound of Serena’s heels was the only response as Serena moved deeper into the room to sit on Margo’s bed. The bed was raised to allow space for storage underneath. Often times, Margo found herself leaping just to get on to it, but Serena was tall enough that she could sit down without a struggle.

Finally, Serena met her eyes again. “Not everyone has a hot vampire boyfriend drooling over them, Mar. I definitely wouldn’t mind an incubus.”

And there it was. The reason why Margo had thrown herself so wholeheartedly into her studies that night.

A warmth started to spread on her cheeks and to the tips of her hair as she blushed. “Shut up,” she grumbled, hating the way just the mention of his name sent her pulse skyrocketing.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Serena said as she played with one of the many earrings up and down her lobe. “Maybe you should invite him to the party tonight.”

Margo rolled her eyes and ignored the girl on her bed in favor of her text. “I’m not going to the party tonight, Serena. I already told you that.”

“Oh for Circe’s sake, Margo.” Serena’s voice was colored with annoyance. “Just come to the party. Live a little.”

Margo kept her eyes focused on the page in front of her. Under Fire Potions, she began reading the uses – poison, hallucinogens, mind-alterations, etc. Serena got increasingly agitated behind her, but Margo continued to ignore her.

When Serena grumbled, “Margo?” Margo finally gave her the response she had been looking for.

“I said I am not coming.” Margo gestured wildly to the mess of notebooks, sticky notes, and highlighters strewn across her desk–though this was not the only reason she would be missing out on the festivities.

Margo had other plans come the witching hour. She tried not to let her face betray that fact, knowing that Serena would not take lightly to her ditching her party for a boy.

“You’ve been studying all night. Take a break and come celebrate with us.”

Margo had argued with Serena enough to know that a simple no might not suffice. Instead, she uncapped a highlighter and grumbled, “Serena, if you don’t leave me alone I’m going to hex you green for the next 24 hours. Then, neither of us will be able to enjoy the party.”

Such use of magic on school grounds was, of course, strictly forbidden. But Margo would happily risk probation for the few minutes of blissful quiet it would bring. Luckily, no one had to hex anyone. Serena accepted her defeat and left Margo’s room, muttering, “Your loss.”

Margo and Serena were both students at the University of the Arcana. They were the world’s worst kept secret. The things that mortal beings feared most were real and living among them, though not with as much horrific tendency towards the cruel as mortals liked to believe. Or, at least, no more so than the mortals themselves. Witches, vampires, demons, shapeshifters–they were human just like everyone else, just a different subclass of humans.

Part of the human experience, unfortunately, was going to a university and getting a degree. Here, Margo studied horticultural magic. It was a degree with which, as her mom liked to remind her, she could go on to become a pharmacist. That was not her plan. She wanted to own a greenhouse someday–maybe do some rudimental medicinal remedies for people in her community. She often dreamed of this simple life on a countryside somewhere.

For now, she was forced to live on a campus large enough to be a country of its own. Not only that but the sorority Gamma Nu with which she had pledged required her to live with twenty-nine other student witches. As much as she hated it–it was a campus requirement. No student witch was allowed on campus without pledging to a coven. That, unfortunately, meant that her sorority sisters never gave her a moment of peace.

Serena had only left Margo’s room for twenty minutes before the heavy bass of some modern hip-hop song began shaking her room.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Margo yelled to no one in particular. The tips of her fingers began to spark blue as she itched to hex someone. It seemed that her sisters couldn’t be bothered to cast a privacy spell on their party, thus subjecting Margo to the loud, rhythmic thumping that would make studying impossible.

Regretfully, she was terrible at noise redirection spells. Any attempts to soundproof her room would end in disaster. Her plans for the night, to study and retain all that she could before he came, we’re steadily being foiled by distractions at every turn.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to steer her mind to a different route. She just needed to change locations. If she trudged around disgruntled enough, the house would recognize her need, and provide her with a solution. The house was sentient, as all witch abodes were. Something about the excess magic in the air caused them to develop a mind of their own. Sometimes, it was more harm than good, as the house had been known to get rid of entire rooms when it was in a mood. But, just as often, it had been known to give a witch exactly what she was looking for.

Holding out hope, Margo packed up her belongings and slipped out of her room.

“Okay house,” she said pleadingly, hoping it could hear her over the thundering of the music and the storm outside. “Show me someplace quiet I can study.”

For a minute, the only thing she saw was a little black ball of fur that dashed past her feet, following the music downstairs. Witches didn’t have familiars per se, but that never stopped her sisters from ironically adopting every black cat they came across.

“House?” she asked impatiently. A door banged open down the hall.

“Thank you,” She whispered, making her way to the door. It led to the library, which was one story down on the eastern wing, but the laws of physical space did not much apply there.

She couldn’t bring herself to fully step inside, however. This was obviously one of the house’s jokes.

The library was soundproof, that much Margo did know. But it was also haunted by two loud, gossipy ghosts.

“Oh dear,” a larger woman said from her position knitting by the library’s fireplace. If not from the way she was tinted silver and slightly translucent, one might not have known she was undead. “Elizabeth, come see! The studious one did not get invited to the party.”

From somewhere on the banister of the second floor came a tinny laugh. “Well, that’s no surprise to me!” Elizabeth responded. “Look at the way she dressed.”

Margo resisted the urge to pull at her old sweatpants and the UA sweatshirt she wore. “Shut up,” she grumbled. Before shutting the door, she added, “I was invited by the way! I didn’t want to go.”

She ignored Elizabeth’s pointed, “What kind of girl doesn’t want to go to a party?” The sound of which lingered until much after Margo had closed the door.

The house rumbled underneath her, making it clear it was laughing.

“House!” she snapped, annoyed at his antics. Another door appeared in front of her in that instant. This time, she did step inside it. It was the abandoned potions laboratory she hadn’t known existed. A quick survey of the place revealed it was in the basement. Which, happily, seemed to be enchanted, for all the noise of the party disappeared as soon as she closed the door.

It was perfect.

Margo toiled over the cauldron in the laboratory for hours, using whatever preserved ingredients she could find to build practice potions. Having always been a tactical learner, this made the art of potion making so much more accessible to her. The fire underneath the cauldron burned hot, causing her to shed her sweater for the loose grey tank underneath. Eventually, she piled her hair up and away from her face, to avoid the way the steam had caused it to stick to her cheeks and the back of her neck. The ingredients were old school–more animal than plant-based, as she preferred to work with. But Margo made it work nonetheless.

Eye of newt.

Toe of frog.

Wool of Bat.

Tongue of Dog.

Round and round the boiling pot she went, throwing in the ancient ingredients and murmuring incantations, learning the form way better than any text could teach her. She was so lost in the art of it all, she was sure nothing could pull her out.

Then the witching hour came, and a sharp prickling sensation in Margo’s thumbs told her that someone was looking for her. Or something. It was much bigger and much more powerful than Serena–it sent her witch’s sense haywire. She knew just who was it was. She had been waiting for him all night. For a moment, she debated going up to the party, finding him, and dragging him back down to the basement. But, there was a spell she knew, old and powerful, that would bring any creature to her in an instant. Of course, with ancient magicks, there was always a chance of attracting unwanted, much more dangerous attention.

Sighing, she lifted up a quick prayer to Hecate, then said, “Fuck it.”

Turning away from the cauldron, she recited the old but powerful spell.

By the pricking of my thumb, Something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, Whoever knocks.

She closed her eyes for a breath, and when she opened it, he appeared in front of her like an apparition. At first, he was nothing more than a blur of black and silver. He had entered the room at full vampiric speed, and her eyes had to take a moment to adjust, to register what she was seeing.

Her heart began pounding in her chest, not unlike the rhythmic thumping of the bass she had heard earlier. Run, her instincts told her, recognizing that there was a predator, much larger and much deadlier than her in the room. She tried to calm the pounding she could now feel in her throat, with a breath. It came out shuddering.

Now that her eyes were fully adjusted, she could see the way his pupils dilated, no doubt at the sound of the rush of blood through her veins. As he advanced on her, she took a few steps back. Eventually, she was stopped by the edge of the table next to where the cauldron still bubbled over.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Vampires were at the top of the human food chain. Because of that, everything about them was designed to draw prey in. Luke was no different. The way he talked was an aphrodisiac, the smallest hint of an old French accent rolling off his tongue lasciviously, drawing a longing from her core. She felt the moment her body realized that she was in no immediate danger, and her heart started hammering for an entirely different reason.

“I know,” she responded, trying to sound cavalier. It was why she had thrown herself so wholeheartedly into her studies that night. At some point in the afternoon, she had received a text. It was just five words, yet it had made her toes curl with desire. Witching hour. I’ll find you. The modern monster’s equivalent of a booty call. Margo, not one to betray her studies for a man, had spent all afternoon with her nose buried in a book. Now that he was right in front of her, she was confident enough in what she had learned that she had no trouble stepping away from the cauldron for the night.

Instead of getting closer to her as her whole body ached for, Luke moved to survey in the room. In turn, she surveyed him. His movements were cat-like, each motion deliberate and graceful. The white, silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned halfway down and tucked into a pair of black leather pants. A peek at the smooth expanse of his chest made Margo yearn to reach out and touch, but she stayed backed up against the table, allowing him to walk the layout of the lab.

“Pilar said you were somewhere studying,” He referenced her housemate easily as he walked around the room almost aimlessly, first glancing into the still bubbling cauldron, then the ingredients that lined the shelf. Ungraciously, she felt jealousy rise to the surface, sending pinpricks of magic down her spine. Margo was well aware of Luke and Pilar’s brief tryst a few months before, and in moments like these, when her senses were bridled by lust, she couldn’t help the primal instincts of possessiveness.

“Potions test.” She responded. Then, because she couldn’t quite put the thought out of her mind, she added, “Pilar needs to mind her own business.”

She was proud of herself when the words didn’t come out sounding shaky or hoarse.

“She’s worried about you, ma chérie. All you do is study.”

Margo tramped down her envy and reminded herself that she hadn’t spent all day studying just so she and Luke could fight about his over-friendliness with his ex. Instead, she tried to focus on nudging Luke’s eyes back to her with a suggestive comment. “I’m not studying right now.”

At her goading, Luke finally gave her the attention she craved. He turned to look at her, his smirk dangerous and promising.

“I prove to be an adequate distraction, no?”

She didn’t see him move. Rather, one moment, he was across the room with a jar of dragon scales in his hand, and somehow, in that same instant, the jar was back on the shelf, and he was next to her, tucking an escaped curl behind her ear.

Immediately, she heaved her chest up to him.

The way he tutted was almost regretful as he traced the line of a barely visible scar, one that he had left on her chest less than 24 hours before. “Oh, ma chérie. You’re already addicted to my touch. I can hear how your blood sings for me.”

Bowing his head, he gently brought his lips to the scar that rested just above the swell of her bosom. “Are you ever,” he paused slightly as if choosing his next word carefully. “Scared of this?”

Scared of this. Scared of them. Historically, witches and vampires did not come together for anything more than sex and political alliances. But, there was something deeper between Luke and Margo. The memory of how indignant she had felt when Serena mentioned her hot vampire boyfriend rose to the surface. Even now she had a hard time with the state of their relationship-how quickly she had come to fall in love with her predator. He often reminded her of the power that he held over her and how her sense of self-preservation became nonexistent whenever he was around.

Luke nipped at her skin lightly, not enough to draw blood. It wrenched her from her thoughts and into that moment with him. When her heart stuttered, he stared up at her, a wolfish grin playing on his face. In moments like these, they both regressed to their animalistic impulses, running on deep, primal instincts left over from their ancestors.

“You forget, Hemmings, that I’m powerful too,” Margo muttered a quick incantation, and this time, the speed with which Luke moved was not due to his vampiric abilities, but rather the invisible bands of wind that twisted around him, pulling him off her, and restraining his wrist. His attempts to burst free of his magical binding was futile. He pulled at his invisible restraints and bared his teeth in warning to her.

The animal inside him did not like to be tied up.

She ignored the way her blood roared in her ears, focusing only on the fact that if it sounded loud to her, it would be deafening for Luke.

Reaching out to the potions table, Margo grabbed a knife she had been using earlier, wiping any traces of ingredients from it with a quick, cleansing water spell. Then, she held it up to her breast. Both her and Luke tracked the way the cool blade as it came to rest against her skin. The grey tank top, as unattractive as Elizabeth’s ghost would find it, did the job of sparking Luke’s interest. She wore no bra underneath, so it hung low on her ample bosom and was thin enough that her nipples all but poked through.

She pierced the skin right where Luke had scarred her before. In response, Luke’s pupils dilated further until his blue eyes were almost completely black, and his breath began to get ragged. Now, it was her turn to smirk.

“I might be addicted to your touch,” she purred. “But you’re addicted to my taste.”

Luke impossibly broke free of her binds and had his hands gripping at her sides in a second. He buried his face in her neck, not going for her blood until he got express permission to do so.

“Can I?” His voice was rough and riddled with want. She nodded once, and Luke dropped his mouth to her heart vein and started to drink deeply.

Nothing that Margo had experienced in her 21 years of life was as erotic as a vampire drinking from her chest. In popular culture, vampires drank from their lover’s neck. That was too impersonal of an action, Luke had informed her. Vampires drank from a mortal’s necks when they planned to drain them and leave them for dead. There was something much more sacred about their relationship, something that made the idea of taking blood from that public place repugnant to him.

As he sucked deeper on Margo’s chest, a shiver of lust set inside her aflame. She could feel herself grow wet from the pull of blood out of her and into him. It was an aphrodisiac, and she was powerless against the feeling it brought. From the way Luke flexed his fingers at her side, she could tell he was just as affected by it as she was. He pulled away to thrust his erection against her.

“Wanna drink while I’m inside you,” he begged.

She didn’t trust her voice not to come out in a ragged plea, so she nodded mutely, already reaching for the hem of her shirt to pull it over her head. Luke hoisted her up unto the table she had barely noticed digging into her back. Instead of returning to the wound on her chest, already closed from the healing properties in his saliva, Luke went for her nipples, sucking on one as he rolled the other between his forefinger and thumb.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered almost reverentially.

He started on a path downwards, kissing her stomach, licking into the dip of her belly button. “You know,” he began as he knelt in front of her, fingers already poised to remove her sweatpants. “Since the change, I’ve questioned my belief in a higher power. But when I do this with you, I know He’s real. Nothing else but an omnipotent deity could have created an angel as beautiful as you.”

Margo bit her lip. Having spent some time with the romantic era poets of the mid-1800s, Luke was prone to outbursts like these in the midst of sex. Margo liked to tease him about it.

“I’m no angel,” she retorted a slight quirk of her lips. “I’ll be right there in hell with you, Luke Hemmings. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Luke took a moment to respond, choosing instead to remove her sweatpants and panties. Then, he placed a few chaste kisses to the inside of either thigh, letting his scruff rub lightly against her teasingly. Margo’s hand shot out, running through his hair a few times, before trying to lead him to her folds.

Instead, he chose that moment to respond to her earlier comment. It was always like this with them. Push and pull. Two opposing tides of want, dragging their sex in different directions. “You are too intoxicating. The devil will try to steal you from me.”

Luke brought his mouth back to her stomach, lapping at the salt of her skin. He nibbled slightly, causing her to release a shuddering breath.

“The devil can’t have me,” she cried between gasps. “I belong to you.”

That was just the motivation the vampire needed. “And I to you,” he growled. It was a guttural sound coming from deep within. In the next moment, he brought his tongue to her, pressing it against her clit.

He spent his time worshiping her folds, before adding one finger inside her. Margo’s legs fell open wider in response, inviting more.

“How does every inch of you taste so good?” He asked in another bought of reverence. Margo’s only response was a cry of euphoria as Luke’s fingers scissored in and out of her, drawing immeasurable pleasure. For a few moments, she basked in the sensation of a lover taking his time to reduce her to cries and shudders. When she came the first time, she was so lost in this sensation, she wasn’t cognizant of the little sparks of magic flittering off her, falling to the tables and the floor.

It was not until Luke muttered, “Shit,” that she opened her eyes to see smoke rising from a hole burnt into the hardwood floor.

“Fuck,” she cursed, still panting. “My bad.”

They glanced at each other for a brief moment, taken by the heat of each other. Then, they devolved into laughter. This wasn’t the first time Margo had burnt something in the midst of their passion, and it wouldn’t be her last.

Luke stood and picked her up amid their laughter. In response, she wrapped her legs around his waist and peppered her face with kisses. “Take us back to your room,” he begged. He raised one foot in the basement of the old house as Margo whispered her incantation, and when he put it down, they were back in her second-floor room.

“God, I love magic,” He breathed, depositing her on her bed.

“Me too,” she responded, and with a wink, all his clothes disappeared. Luke was unconcerned with their dematerialization, knowing from experience he would find them neatly folded at the foot of her bed the next morning.

Crawling on top of her, he slotted their mouths together in a motion they had done so often it became ritual. They spent a few blissful moments, rubbing unbidden against each other. But Luke was impatient. Soon, he was pinning both her wrists above her head with one large hand and entering her slowly.

At first, his thrusts were slow, deliberate, as he got used to the feeling of being inside her. Then, when his movements started to become more erratic, Margo bared her chest to him, knowing exactly what he wanted. His teeth pierced the scarred flesh easily, and he moaned at the first drop of blood that made contacts with his lips.

He released his hold on her hands then, so his were available to wrap his hand around her throat, grip at her side and play with her clit or nipple as he saw fit. The animal in both of them moved about in unrestrained movements as they devolved into hands, teeth, and hips. He drank until it felt like the open wound in her chest was somehow connected to her pussy, each deep suck causing her walls to contract.

She groaned, one hand in his hair, the other in the sheets. It was heaven for her, but for him, it was even better. Curious, Margo had once asked what it felt like to make love to her and feed from her at the same time. He said it felt like being burned alive in the best way possible. Passion consumed every inch of him, setting him aflame.

When he pulled back from her chest, they were both seconds away from climaxing. Immediately, he brought one finger to her clit, playing with it as he thrust inside her. She came, and he followed. This time, a soft glow of light radiated off her in pulses, matching the pulses of her orgasm. Her magical reactions to him were getting stronger.

She turned her attention to the man now draped atop of her, breathing in deeply, taking in the heady scent of the room.

“Smell something you like?” she teased, knowing he liked the smell of them tangled together in the room. Luke loved being unable to smell where he ended and she began.

“Yeah,” he breathed in response, still visibly affected by Margo’s blood. Margo laid there a few minutes running her hand through his hair, waiting for him to come down from the high she had caused.

When Luke was back to himself again, he flipped them, so she was lying atop him. With a quick incantation, Margo brought the blanket gently over their shoulders. Peacefully, they settled in for the night.

“I love you, mon cœur,” Luke uttered the sentiment first.

Margo repeated it.

“Wake me up at 8?” She wanted to get some last minutes revisions done before her test at 10 and one of the best things about having a vampire boyfriend? He didn’t need sleep, so she had a personal alarm. Margo thought the kiss he placed atop her head was an affirmative and a goodnight all in one. He had one more thing to say.

“Le suprême bonheur de la vie, c'est la conviction qu'on est aimé; aimé pour soi-même, disons mieux, aimé malgré soi-même.”

The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather in spite of ourselves.

It was a quote from his late friend, Victor Hugo. In moments of reminiscing, Luke thought back to the time he’d spent with the author and poet. He had told her once that he never believed he would find the happiness Hugo spoke about. But he found it with her.

She squeezed his side gently, a silent admittance that she loved him as well.

:: ::

Part 2: Man or Beast

end notes: shout out to anyone who recognizes the names margo, serena & pilar who are elle’s sorority sisters from legally blonde the musical lmao. let me know what you think! love yall!

tag list: @5sosnsfw / @bloodmoonashton / @lukescaboose / @5sex-of-summa / @deviantnines / @halcyonnhood / @gh0st-0f-y0u-95 / @aspiringwildfire / @cal-pal-cuddles / @hotmessmichael / @hereforlukescruff/ @softforcal / @ohhmuke / @fratcalum / @calumamongmen / @ashtonandcalslefthand / @asht0ns-world / @colorful-queen-of-the-roses / @heavenlydrarry / @slowlyelectronictragedy / @myemptywallets / @pagesuponstpages / @fallfrxmgrace / @thefireisgone / @michaelorwhat / @dammitbands / @sugarcoated-pain / @sublimehood / @cal-puddies / @singt0mecalum / @irwinkitten / @myloverboyash

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redfoxwritesstuff · 5 years

Text

Coffee and a Wedding (chapter 5)

Look, it’s the posting day where I don’t hurt everyone. A bit of news before we get to that, however. I just hit 400 followers and I adore you all. I can’t believe 400 of you want to follow me but know I am always thankful.

~~~~~<3

Chapter 5

It was warm and the bed was so comfortable. Warmth surrounded me and it felt like I was sleeping on a cloud. I could stay this way forever. I wanted to stay this way forever. There was soft snoring behind me. It was a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. As soon as the day started, I’d had to put on the face and pretend like I didn’t mean everything I said.

Right now, it was safe. Clint was asleep next to me and the bed was warm and comfortable. A sigh slipped from between my lips as I rolled over to face my sleeping bed mate.

Light brown hair that could almost be called a dark dirty blonde was a mess, sticking up every which way. Lips parted and stubble was heavy on his face. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and feel the scratch of it but instead, I only watched.

As I watched, he shifted and scratched at his stomach through the blankets. He mumbled something, I couldn’t make it out and that was probably for the better anyway. I watched in subtle fascination as he tossed his arm up over his head only to have his hand smack hard against the ornate headboard.

He grumbled again as he yanked his hand down. I needed to get up. It wouldn’t do to get caught watching him sleep like some sort of creeper. One sigh, than another and I rolled over, completely intent on getting up and starting the day.

Clint however, though he was still snoring, seemed to have a different idea. With a grunt and another scratch, he rolled over. I tried to slip out of the bed but as I scooted, his leg reached around and hooked over my hip. I froze, hoping that he would- honestly, I don’t know what I was hoping for.

His foot wiggled as he pushed it down, slipping his toes between my thighs. His arm joined the party, draping over me and slipping around my side. More mumbled words slipped from him as he tightened his grip and in the process, pulled me flush against him.

What was that sound?

That was the sound of my heart stopping. We were tangled in blankets but I could feel every bit of him. I could feel the muscle in his arms flex as he tried to pull me even closer. I could feel his chest expand with each breath. I could feel his puffs of breath in my hair.

I could also feel his… oh my god, kill me now. Good morning, Clint Barton. Someone’s standing at attention first thing in the morning. At least I knew his… parts all appeared to work as well as I had hoped and daydreamed. I could feel so much of him. He was sizable and firm and throbbing. If I closed my eyes I could pretend that-

Oh my god. What the ever loving fuck was I thinking? He’s my boss. We’re not actually dating. He doesn’t like me like that. I shouldn’t be thinking about his-

Clint rolled his hips against me, a soft groan falling from his lips.

Nope. Nope. I needed to get out of this bed right now. With a deep breath, I lifted his arm off of me. It took effort to wiggle my upper body out from under him while he, in his sleep, kept trying to capture me in his arms again.

I thought I had more room. It’s a king sized bed for god’s sake! So, needless to say, it surprised me when I finally got out of reach of his arms I slipped off the edge of the bed. Head first, of course and I landed with a thump on my shoulder.

“What happened?!” Clint was up in a instant. He was on his hands and knees, looking over the side of the bed at my crumpled form. For a moment I considered crawling under the bed and hiding because, really? Now he wakes up?!

“I fell.” What the hell else could I say? He had eyes. He could see me in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Get up here.” He reached down and offered me a hand. I spent a few extra moments admiring how the soft light from the cream curtains in the window played over his muscles and framed his upper body before taking hold of his hand. “Off the floor with you.”

Again with the strength I kept marveling at, he pulled me up off the floor and onto the bed with him. It was a fascinating show, being able to watch how each muscle twitched and moved. The momentum of the pull brought me up far faster than I would have liked. I was too distracted watching him and trying to keep my drool within my mouth to pay attention to getting my feet under me.

Rather than standing when Clint pulled me up, I followed the momentum forward and right into my almost naked boss. I had to repeat that to myself, over and over again as my hand hit his firm chest and we fell back together in a heap. A laugh slipped out of him as his arm wrapped around my waist. He caught me and held me close for reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand.

And then, that hand slipped from my back. It was as if he realized that though we shared a bed last night, it wasn’t for any reason that mattered. Still, the way his hand dropped- it stung. He was probably reminding himself that I’m only his employee just like I was reminding myself he was only my boss.

It still hurt though. I scrambled to get off of him without touching him. My leg brushed against a hardness in his boxers as I climbed off of him and it was so damn hard to pretend like I didn’t notice. He had to have felt it. Hell, he had to know I felt it.

But we’re adults here, right? So we could address this and move on, like adults, right? It didn’t have to make things weird while we’re on this trip. It didn’t have to make things weird after this trip. I could act normal, even though I’ve felt my boss’ cock through his boxers, right?

Clint shifted in the bed, sitting up and clearing his throat. The sound of it drew my eyes back to him and inevitably toward the tent around his crotch. The slit in the fabric was straining and when he shifted…

Yep, it was time to get up. I needed to get up and get dressed. Without a single word, I scrambled to the edge of the bed and launched myself to the dresser. Without care, I grabbed a handful of clothes and locked myself into the bathroom.

With the door shut behind me, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. A moan wanted to slip from my throat. The sight of him had burned into my mind. I could still see it oh so clearly. I could see the head of his cock through the fabric. I could see the shape, the ridge of the head imprinted where he strained against the thin fabric. Through the slit in his boxers I could see the color, violently pink. He was engorged and begging for attention that I would love to give it if only we were not playing pretend.

“He is my boss.” It was a whispered prayer as I started the shower.

“You okay?” The voice of my personal demon came through the door.

“Fine.”

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” There was a thump and it sounded a lot like Clint leaned against the door. “Look, if I did, I’m sorry. But if I don’t know about it, I can’t make it better. I can’t change it. If it’s from sharing the bed- I can sleep on the couch next time.”

“No!” Well way to play it cool. “I just- I really had to pee and figured I’d take a quick shower is all. I’m good. You’re good. We’re good. Right?”

“I know it’s a bit weird.” He didn’t sound all that reassured. I’d never heard him sound quite like this. It was like a wall I didn’t know he had up had fallen down sometime in the middle of the night. “You’re the best employee I have. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you that, but you are. I know I can be a handful sometimes but I just… You had talked yourself into a corner and I wanted to help you out. I never thought about… If you even wanted my help. If you want me to go at any point, I will.”

This was beyond weird. It would save me untold amounts of embarrassment, having him leave. I could even blame Matt, say he offended Clint so much he felt the need to leave. I had an out. Clint had an out. But he was leaving the choice up to me. But it didn’t sound like he wanted to leave. It sounded like there was so much more meaning to his words and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand what that meaning was.

Truth be told, I didn’t want him to leave. After telling him so, I took a shower. A long shower, as hot as I could stand it. I tried to burn away the impure thoughts and when that didn’t work, my hand snaked down between my legs. Whimpering moans slipped from my lips as I brought myself to a sweet orgasm with thoughts of Clint, naked and between my legs.

Clint let out a low whistle when I finally emerged from the bathroom. When he motioned for me to do a spin, I indulged him. It was impossible to resist the urge to sway my hips as I spun.

“Looking good.” The complement was slow and drawn out. “I expected you to look good since you took so long I had to go use the lobby bathroom to pee but still damn impressive.”

“Sorry!” After spending what I could admit was something resembling a year in the shower I couldn't be displeased with his reaction. I had taken my time doing my hair and makeup. I did feel a bit guilty about holding the bathroom hostage for so long enough that he had to resort to going to the lobby to use theirs. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“Figured you had something you were working through. It- I know you were going through something this morning and we don’t have to talk about it. I hope its not something you’ll hold against me. Going to the lobby for my morning piss so you can have the time you need to work through whatever and to come out looking this damn good- worth it.”

“You should have knocked.” It was worth trying to convince him otherwise even if in truth, I did need that time. It helped me get my head on straight after seeing way more of my handsome ass boss than I was mentally or emotionally prepared for. Someday, he would find a girlfriend, a real girlfriend and he would fall in love with her. She would be damn lucky to have a man who would rather go to the lobby to pee than disturb her while she was doing her hair or makeup.

“And interfere with you getting ready- never!” With a roll of my eyes, I turned my back on Clint and his dramatic hand to his chest. “So, what’s the plan today?”

“I’ve got the bachelorette party tonight.” Things felt almost normal as I made my way to the small dining table with a breakfast spread out. “Did you get us breakfast?”

Looks like a long shower, doing my makeup and hair did nothing to spruce up my brain. Way to step up and state the obvious.

“Yeah, figured after all that primping, you would be hungry.” It was hard not to look into his eyes as he sat down across from me. His foot brushed against my shin as he crossed his legs under the table and I tried to ignore it. “Excited for the party?”

“No, not really.” I admitted. “I’ve never been to one before and I’m sure it’s not like the movies.”

“Probably.” Clint shrugged as he shoveled some eggs into his mouth. “But it could be. I've been to some that were like the movies, some that were not. Bachelor parties, not bachelorette.”

“One could hope. At least the party would be entertaining.”

“Don’t cheat on me with a male stripper, okay?”

“I promise not to cheat on my fake boss boyfriend.” I almost choked on my potatoes laughing.

“Real boss, fake boyfriend!” Clint covered a waffle with too much syrup and refilled his coffee.

“Your coffee is better than this.” I don’t know what possessed me to say it but it wasn’t a lie.

“Careful.” Clint eyed me over his mug. “Talk like that and I could fall in love with you.”

~~~~~<3

“Talk like that and I could fall in love with you.” His words ran through my mind on repeat as I glared at my second drink. This party wasn’t much of a party at all. Matt Matthews was a man from a large family of women, it turned out. And that family was likewise from a large amount of money.

They made up a large portion of the party and leaned toward a classier type of event. I sat here, sipping on a red wine that likely costs about as much as I make in a week. I had a paint brush in one hand while my thoughts were running wild. They tended to dart between that thing Clint had said- completely in jest, I’m sure- and how Sarah was not the type to call a ‘sip n’ paint’ class a ‘party’.

Soft voices whispered as the instructor described methods of blending colors for sunsets. Globs of paint moved across canvases and every so often there was a sniffle or cough. It was nice enough, I guess.

It took everything I had to not go for the third glass of wine as the class came to an end. I was already getting looks from the snobbier members of our party for finishing my second glass.

“That’s oddly dark, for a sunset.” Marci, Matt’s sister commented while standing next to me. The room was open and she didn't have to stand so close while looking disapprovingly at my painting. “You should have used more yellows and oranges.”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Why did you use so much purple, anyway?” Sarah asked. I assumed she was trying to come to my rescue but it was hard to be sure anymore.

“Clint likes purple.” The words were out before I could stop them. Damn wine.

“Ahh, so this is for your boyfriend.” Sarah teased, a warm smile on her face.

“Matt told me about him. Said he’s your Sugar Daddy or something?”

“Excuse me?” Sarah and I gaped at her, our voices mingling into one in indigence.

“Matt- he was telling us that you were seeing your boss for job security or his money or something?” Her voice was hesitant, as if she was suddenly unsure of the facts. “Matt said you had an arrangement with him?”

“Nope.” The word felt like ice as I forced it out. In no way ever did I expect that I was going to have to defend my fake relationship with my boss like this. “Clint would never- I would never agree to that. I’m with Clint because I love him. He’s with me because he loves me. I don’t get special treatment at work. I don’t get extra pay. I don’t get anything but Clint from the deal.”

“Oh- I’m sorry. Please excuse me, I misunderstood.” Marci retreated with her painting, leaving me fuming with Sarah at my side.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to Matt- I’m sure she just misunderstood what he said...”

“Right.” The word is brittle in my mouth. “Why a ‘Sip n’ paint’ for the party? Really? It isn’t like you, it’s not what you talked about having as a kid and teen? I thought you wanted a real party?”

“Matt and I agreed that since his family was going to be a part of our parties that we would keep things classy. Limited drinks, classy activities.”

“No strippers.” I offered, cracking a smile regardless of how Marci’s words still stung.

“No strippers.” Sarah agreed. “For either of our parties. It was Matt’s idea and I think it’s a great way to start a marriage, not ogling to bodies of others.”

~~~~~<3

“Welcome home babe!” Clint called as soon as I opened the door and it made my heart so warm. If only it wasn’t an act performed on the off chance I wasn’t alone.

“It’s only me.”

“Welcome home just the same.” Clint stood from the desk where his laptop was set up and offered me a warm smile. It wasn’t fair that he was only my boss. “How was the party?” After a beat he added, “Is that a painting?”

“Yep.” I let the p pop, tossing the painting onto the couch. “The party was a ‘sip n’ paint’ party and the music was classical. The wine was expensive. Hope you had more fun than I did.”

“Matt called.” I grunted and Clint laughed. Should I even tell him about what Matt was saying about us? Did it matter? “Invited me to his bachelor party tomorrow night.”

“Don’t get excited. They’re having classy events. No strippers, only light drinking. If you’re lucky you won’t have to paint.”

“Aww, I was looking forward to painting a night sky to match yours!” Clint picked the painting up and leaned it against the wall on top of the desk. “So I can see it while I work.”

“Why? It’s shit.” Okay, I was more than a little bitter about how the night had gone. I had all these ideas of what the party should have been like and every single one of them had shattered. It wasn’t fair.

“I like it, though.” Pride was radiating off him and I rolled my eyes. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I flopped onto my back on the bed with a huff. “I guess I’m just disappointed.”

Clint flopped next to me and I tried to ignore how his fingers brushed mine. “So, let’s go out. Your hair is still all done, your makeup is still flawless and you’re as beautiful as you were when you left for the party. Let’s go out to the club and have our own party.”

~~~~~<3

Taglist: @winterisakiller, @theheartofpenelope, @bradfordbantams, @ruebx, @hufflepuff25, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @toozmanykids, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @tnystrk-exe

#clint barton x oc #clint x reader #Clint Barton x Female Reader #clint barton x reader #clint x ofc #clint x oc #clint barton x ofc

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detroitbydark · 5 years

Text

Moonbeams and Ridinghoods Chp 3

Pairing: werewolf!Haz/reader

Summary: first dates are great...until they’re not

Warnings: None

Words: 2800+

A/N: someday my laptop will be fixed and I’ll be able to make a cut and quite jamming up your feeds. Until than I’m impatient. Thank you to my favorite child @aossi for putting up with me while I write this. Also thanks again to @sandersonosterfield for the mood board.

Harrison texts you daily and it becomes the highlight of your day opening each message to see what he has sent. He’s totally random and you’re on board for every minute of it.

On Monday you get a picture of a burger around noon and a picture of his roommates feet at dinner. When you question the feet he explains that his roommate, Tom, had the grossest feet imaginable and he had to share the horror with someone else. He segways into telling you about his other roommate, Emily, and their friends that spent an inordinate amount of time at their place.

The surgeon making rounds through the department gives you a raised eyebrow and asks about the smile your sporting. You merely shrug and school your features. When you get home you call him and he asks about your day. He sits quietly, makes all the right agreeable sounds as you recount funny stories from the day. When you whine dramatically about needing to have some fun he teases lightly.

“Well lucky you, is already scheduled for a coffee date with yours truly.”

He’s really too cute for words and you reinforce that, yes coffee with him was a thing that would be happening. You can hear his grin through the phone.

You send him a pic of your sad cafeteria sandwich on your lunch break Tuesday. The turkey and cheese looks rather anemic and you find you just have to share it. He sends a gym selfie that makes you feel all kinds of ways when you ask what he’s up to. Sweat clings to his brow in the mirrors reflection. His shirt is soaked and his hands are taped as if he’s just gone a couple rounds. A smooth smile is plastered across his face as a curly mopped brunette poses up behind him. You get a topless one after that. The view down his pecs and over abs is truly obscene. He shoots back a cursory ‘LOL’ when you remind him you’re not supposed to be looking at porn on hospital hours. When you get back to your apartment you strip out of your scrubs and change into your own gym clothes. He seems to like the spandex shorts and tank top you’re sporting if the howling wolf emojis are anything to go by.

By the time Wednesday rolls around you are so primed to see him you’re absolutely vibrating. Picking up your phone half a dozen times, you have to remind yourself that it’s not cool to look too excited but you can’t help it. You craved more than text messages and phone calls were giving you.

A chill is in the air so you opt for jeans and a trusty pair of combat boots you’d picked up at a yard sale years ago. You layer a loose cream knit sweater over a black tank. The collar hangs loosely off your left shoulder as you look at yourself over in the mirror one last time. Neither of you had said this was a date but you’re treating it like one. It had been so long since you had genuinely been excited to meet up with a guy that you refuse to call it anything but.

You give the taxi driver the address Harrison had sent you earlier in the day. You watch the scenery change from tightly packed apartment buildings to manicured sidewalks and decadent older homes. You’re not familiar with the area at all but it doesn’t stop you from taking in the sights. You begin to wonder if you’re under dressed as the driver pulls up to a stop in front of a cozy looking cafe. You slide him a wad of bills and a smile before your eyes are catching on the man you’d come to see. He’s worth openly drooling over, dressed in dark slacks and a button up with the first pair of buttons undone. His dirty blonde locks have been tamed and gelled into place and he’s wearing a pair of glasses that only add to his handsome appearance.

His eyes dance over you and you soak up the attention. He pulls you in for a quick side hug.

“Really glad you came out.” He says opening the door for you. You can’t help but ducking your head. You can hear him chuckling behind you, “don’t go getting shy on me now, darling.” He teases and you turn your smile up at his unspoken challenge.

“Atta girl.” He mumbles, his hand rests across your lower back as he guides you to a table near the window. The sun is shining in, chasing away the bit of cold you’d felt between the cab and the cafe. You move to sit but he steps in a pulls your chair out for you. You’d thought maybe that was something that only happened in movies and romance novels. You whisper a soft ‘thank you’ as you sit down and he slides it back in. You must look confused because he cocks his head as he sits.

“What?” He questions, leaning back languidly in his seat.

You spin the bracelet on your wrist, an old nervous habit. You watch the beads shimmer as the light travels over them with each twirl around your wrist.

“Nothing. Just trying to figure you out.”

Harrison leans forward, forearms pressing into the table, “how much time have you got?”

He flashes that smile that made your stomach flip when you’d first met and, like a trained animal, it does it again.

The smug bastard has got to know what the grin does. There’s no way he hasn’t used it before.

The server comes over and deposits some menus and dutifully reads off the days specials.You watch Harrison’s polite smile and well practiced manners put on display. Somewhere along the line someone had drilled them into his head and you appreciate their effort.

You roll your eyes playfully as his attention comes back to you and the conversation at hand.

“What can I say? I know I’ve got layers.” He says with a lazy shrug.

“Like an onion?”

His laugh is a low rumble. “Just like an onion.”

You order a short time later, you get a coffee and a danish while Harrison order his drink and turkey and Swiss on a croissant.

When it comes out you wish you’d have ordered it. It looks amazing.

“Not quite what they’re serving at the hospital.” He laughs, offering you a bite.

“I couldn’t, that’s your lunch.” You mutter with a bit of embarrassment.

“Ah, come on now. I insist.” He slides the plate over to you and watches intently as you take a bite. Your eyes close and you hum happily. It may be one of the single best bites of food you’ve ever had.

“Good, right?” He laughs. You nod while you chew. “My friend, Em...the roommate I told you about? Well, this is her place.”

You rest your coffee cup between your hands, sipping contentedly. “You’ll have to give her my compliments. Are you close?” You question. The way he spoke about his friends was unlike anyone else you’d ever heard.

“Well, yeah, we’re like… I guess the best explanation is we’re like family.” You see him choosing his words carefully.

“That has to be nice.”

“It is, I mean I’m close with my parents and sister too but to have the boys and Emily in my life day in and day out...I’m sure you're probably thinking it’s odd…”

You shake your head quickly, “No not at all! I mean, I think it sounds really nice. To know there’s always someone there? Isn’t that kind of the dream?”

Harrison’s look is assessing, like you’ve quickly become the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. “What about you? It has to be hard being away from everyone, your family and friends?”

Looking down into your cup you watch the brown liquid swirl with the gentle tip of your hands. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you think.

“I can see the gears turning.” He says collecting your attention again. “Why?”

“Just trying to figure out if I should lay the tragic backstory out?”

“Tragic backstory? We all have them don’t we? Tell me.” It’s not a question. You’ve noticed that Harrison did that a lot. He didn’t so much as ask questions as he made gentle demands of you. You shrug, letting your eyes skip out the window and onto the street. Dead leaves, crisp and dry, are blowing down the sidewalk, skittering into view than back out again.

“It was always just me and my Mom growing up. My dad...wasn’t ready to be a father.” She can hear that line in her mother’s voice. A truth she’d been told since she’d been old enough to ask about him. “She got remarried the year before I graduated.” Harrison nods for you to continue as your eyes drift back over to him. “I guess it was kind of her second chance at a family. I’ve got a pair of twin sisters now. They’re three. I’m not really close with them though.”

His fingers brush against yours when you set your cup down.

“Why’s that?”

“I just kind of feel like I don’t belong there? Maybe it doesn’t make sense. We love each other but it just…” You end with a shrug. “And friends? Life happened and we moved away and grew apart.” It’s not the full story but it’s all your willing to divulge. He’s got a small frown marring his features when you look back up and you feel a flush of embarrassment for oversharing.

“Haz!” A bright voice interrupts any apology you might offer as a brunette in an apron walks over. Harrison’s eyes light up as she gets closer and he stands to wrap her in a hug. He turns to you after a moment, arm still wrapped around her waist, as he introduces you.

“Y/n, this is Emily, the brilliant woman I was telling you about.” The casual affection between the two is apparent.

Emily rolls her eyes at the obvious flattery.

“Oh hush, Haz. Who’ve you brought by?” She questions him not looking away from you.

“Em, this is y/n.”

You’d wondered if the knowing look in her eyes had meant anything but when she claps once excitedly you realize that Harrison must have mentioned you to her.

“I’m so glad to meet you.” She enthuses dropping in a chair next to you. You offer your hand politely and she takes it and pulls you in for a hug. You glance at Harrison awkwardly. He’s smothering a laugh, dropping back into his own seat as Emily lets you go.

“This prat has talked about you nonstop I hope you know.” You spare him a glance and he simply shrugs, his blue eyes dancing merrily.

“I’m so glad you brought her!” Emily says glancing at her friend. “What did you get? The danish” She makes a tsking sound and glares at Harrison.

“Why didn’t you get her something good. The danish are rubbish on good days.“ she explains. “Not my best work but a work in progress…”

You smother your own smile. Emily seems to have enough energy to power the better part of London and it’s very easy to see why Harrison had spoken highly of her. If all his friends were like this you really did have to envy him for it.

“Boss?” A tall server shyly interrupts the brunette and she glances over quickly giving a studying look. “We’ve got an issue with the oven.”

Em huffs quietly, “If it’s not one thing it’s always another.” She glances back at the pair of you as she waves the server off.

“Haz, you need to bring her by the house.” She scolds lightly and Harrison gives a sage nod. “And y/n, get my number from the div here and call me, we’ll do lunch.”

Before you can do as much as concur she’s up and moving through the small dining room and into the back.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes, “Is she always like that?” You question.

“Mostly. She has her down days but with Emily, what you see is what you get.” The two of you relax back into conversation. Refills come for your drinks without asking and a takeout container full of goodies miraculously appears as Harrison pays the tab.

“That means she likes you.” He says gesturing to full styrofoam container.

“She doesn’t even know me?” You mumble a little embarrassed by the show of generosity.

“She’s a good judge of character. So am I.”

He’s got you in the passenger seat of his car again. He thought you looked good there, like you were meant to be there. Harrison tries to shake off the feeling. Too much. Too fast.

“Why’d Emily call you Haz” You ask as he focuses on the road.

“All my friend do, really. Just a nickname.” He explains. You sit quietly for a moment.

“Haz…” you try the name out. The soft way you say it makes something inside him burn bright. He wouldn’t mind hearing you say it in another situation. He tamps back those thoughts as he reaches your place and parks.

You’re biting your lip again and he has the urge to lean over and kiss you, to soothe the swollen skin with his own. As you unbuckle he shuts the car off. Your questioning look makes him chuckle.

“It’s not a date if I don’t walk you to your door, yeah?” He enjoys your shy smile.

“So this is a date.” You mumble. “Good”.

“Very.” He adds getting out and moving around the front of the car to open your door for you. You readily lace your fingers between his as he helps you out and you don’t let go as you make your way up the steps.

“You’re going to spoil me with all this attention.” You sound serious as you reach your door and he uses your joined hands to tip your chin up to look at him.

“It’s my job to spoil pretty girls.” He explains softly. Your lips part delicately and he watches with fascination as your tongue wets your lips.

“Do you do it often? Spoil pretty girls?”

“No, it’s been a while since I’ve seen one.” You take a small step closer to him and he pulls your hand up, brushing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. This close, he can hear your heart pounding in your chest. He can feel the soft rush of breath from your lungs.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He warns and you nod, rising up in your toes to meet him as his lips smooth over yours. It’s tentative, a chaste kiss that’s over too soon as he pulls back, enjoying the way your eyes flutter open. But then something changes and you’ve let go of his hand, moving to fist his shirt and pull him back down. He doesn’t fight it, not when your teeth clack together or even when you lose your balance and his hands fall to your hips to steady you. He gives back every ounce of want you pour into him, growling lowly when your teeth nip his lower lip and quickly regaining control, pressing his tongue against the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You open for him and he luxuriates in the feel of you, the taste of coffee and sweets left on your tongue, the soft whine you make when his tongue strokes against yours. The wolf inside him all but howls with delight. The beast, usually so quiet and docile, wants you. It wants Harrison to lay claim to you for their own. It’s a first. The sudden clarity of it is like a pail of cold water splashed over him. He nearly stumbles back, trying to hide the sudden shock he knows is written across his face. Your lips are swollen from his kiss and you have a nearly drunk look on your face that quickly turns to confusion. Harrison feels so many things in that moment and they are all far more serious than the passing fancy he’d known he’d had for you.

“I had a great time today, Haz.” You say softly, your eyes not meeting his. You pull away from him his hands releasing your hips suddenly, only then realizing how tightly he’d been holding you, hoping he hadn’t hurt you, hadn’t left any marks. You rise up to him one more time and he’s nearly trembling as you press a soft kiss to his cheek, his arms limply at his sides. You disappear into your flat before he can say anything and he’s left staring at your closed door. His hand runs roughly through his hair before he turns and heads back to the car.

He stares straight ahead out the window, the engine growling softly. That other part of him, the wolf had never made himself known like it had tonight. It leaves him feeling unsure and at a loss.

“Fuck.”

#harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield #werewolf!haz #moonbeams and ridinghoods

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keeroo92 · 5 years

Text

Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch1

Summary: You were an ordinary nurse, working your way towards balance when the Qlipoth appeared. That all changed when a dark-haired stranger intervened and saved your ass. He and his outlandish companions sparked your curiosity and as the days passed you formed an unbreakable bond with them all. But what happens when your newfound family faces their fate?

(My first fic, a shameless rewrite of the events of DMC5 featuring V x Reader. Angst, fluff, romance and a passable attempt at slow burn. Multiple endings and sequel in progress. I am currently rewriting it chapter by chapter, but the total word count should hover around 150k. Enjoy!)

Ch1: An Introduction to Demons

---Reader---

May 16th, 8:13 pm

Your gloved hands desperately pressed against your patient’s split flesh, his blood oozing between your fingers as your colleagues prepared the surgery room. The poor man was awake, terrified tears streaking his face as he stared into your eyes, praying you’d save him.

“It’s alright, you’re going to be okay, we’re going to take care of you,” you told him, forcing your agonized mind to project calmness and reassurance in your tone. It seemed to work; his eyes blinked and the fearful furrow of his brows eased slightly.

Come on, is that room ready yet? He doesn’t have much time left after losing this much blood.

The linoleum floor beneath your feet, normally stark white and freshly bleached, was covered in blood. Your feet were only able to stay stable due to your mandatory anti-slip shoes. The red puddle had been growing for ten minutes as you urgently held this man’s life in your trembling hands. Most nights weren’t like this, most nights the worst you had to deal with was an idiot who hadn’t been paying attention and had touched a hot stove, or maybe if things got really crazy someone would come in with a broken bone.

Rarely did you hold someone’s life in your hands. It never got easier, or less stressful.

The man’s eyes fluttered closed; his head lolled back on the gurney and your heart jumped, knowing how important it was to stay conscious at that point.

“Sir, no, you have to stay awake! Come on, wake up!” your petrified voice uttered, the sound almost foreign to your ears. He didn’t stir, and your panicked thoughts dropped into cold realization as the steady drip of his blood on the floor slowed.

He’s not going to make it. Goddamnit!

“Someone get me some O negative, now!” you screamed desperately. One of your fellow nurses dashed over with a bag, the fluid red and angry looking as she rushed to get an IV prepared. She checked the man’s pulse, searching for a vein to tap. Her eyes met yours in a shared moment of sadness as the look on her face told you everything you needed to know.

The man beneath your hands was dead.

You pulled your shaking hands away from the gash in his chest, caused by a car crash on the nearby interstate, a chunk of metal having sliced deep into his right pectoral. Your eyes filled with tears at your failure as you unsteadily walked to a nearby hazardous waste bin to strip your bloody gloves off.

There was no other urgent need for you so you stepped away to take a moment to breathe, coming to terms with your inability to save the man you had assured would be alright. You sat on the curb outside as your tears fell, chest heaving in a silent sob.

It’s never enough, I’m never good enough… I need to get better, get faster, stronger… Have to save the next one like him.

After a long moment whose length you couldn’t tell, you heard a siren approaching. Another ambulance, racing in with another person who needed help. You stood, shoving your pain away to focus on the now, on the next patient whom you might actually have been able to help.

__________________________________

The rest of your shift passed with little incident; blessedly no other patients died that night. You stripped off your soiled scrubs in the locker room, ruminating once more on all your failures. The faces of every single patient you’d been unable to save passed through your mind and you gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to never forget a single one. Your heart clenched as the man from mere hours before passed in your mind’s eye, his face frozen in a look of strange peace. Reassured by your words that had turned out to be a lie.

“Y/N, you okay?” a voice beside you asked gently. You turned to face the speaker, another nurse coming off shift. You couldn’t recall her name, never having bothered to learn it. Her perky blond ponytail swung as she tilted her head to look at you, blue eyes showing her concern as you clenched your jaw angrily.

“I’m fine,” you ground out finally, and she frowned more deeply at your not fine tone.

“You did everything you could for him, you know. You can’t save everyone and you can’t blame yourself or it’ll destroy you,” she murmured quietly.

Her words triggered your mind to remind you painfully of the very first person you had failed, the image of her corpse still so clear in your memory. You gulped nervously, trying to subdue the dark thoughts as you responded to your colleague.

“I know… but I should’ve been able to save him,” you whispered brokenly. The young woman bit her lip as you struggled to hold back your tears, but as the first sniffles broke through she wrapped you in a hug.

Caitlyn, that’s her name… Caitlyn.

You hesitantly returned her comforting hug, accepting it for the slim reassurance it could provide. Your breath came out in gasps as you withheld the worst of your pain, not knowing enough about Caitlyn to trust her with your past. Even as the thought formed in your mind, you caught a whiff of her shampoo as her ponytail swung past your dripping nose.

Cinnamon. Just like Lara.

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, frozen like a deer in the headlights as the painful memories rushed through you. Over the years, you’d gotten skilled at subduing them whenever something brought it back to the surface, and you used all your will power to shove it back down into the hole you kept it buried in. Even so, your heart ached at the reminder, making sure you never forgot that day. You pulled away from Caitlyn, arranging your features to show her a teary smile.

“You gonna get home okay?” she asked you kindly. “I can give you a ride if you need it.”

You nodded your head, a rueful glint entering your eyes as you looked at her.

“I live two blocks away. I’ll be all right. Thank you, Caitlyn,” you answered, wiping away the last remnants of your tears. You couldn’t help but hope she’d leave you alone now, and to your relief she turned away to leave with a final worried glance.

The walk home was usually a time of quiet reflection for you, a chance to review all you’d done in the hours at the ER and to tally the lives saved against the lives lost, the scales never tipping to the side of life enough for your satisfaction. That night, you couldn’t remember a single person you helped over the last few hours, the guilt over the single death too heavy to bear.

If only I’d gotten him a transfusion from the start. If only the surgery room had been ready. If only, if only, if only…

You sighed to yourself as you looked forward to the bottle of whiskey waiting for you in your tiny apartment; knowing you had the next day off, you planned to drink until you couldn’t think anymore. A tradition whenever someone died in your arms, something to indulge in to avoid the solitude of your lonely apartment, where not even a goldfish waited for your return.

The familiar wooden sign greeted you from over the doorway as you reached home, its cheerful yellow paint welcoming friends inside. You liked to pretend you’d someday actually invite someone over, but in the five years you’d lived in Red Grave City, you hadn’t allowed a single person to enter your heart, let alone your home.

Too easy to get hurt or to hurt someone. Better to be alone.

The cheap door creaked open and you quickly closed it behind you, alone at last. The keys went in the small bowl on the side table in the entrance, coat on the hook. Shoes kicked off to the corner. With a soft click, you turned on the lights of your small retreat.

You shuffled your way into the living room, the whiskey waiting for you on the coffee table as you plopped into the cushions of your hideous orange couch. You didn’t bother with a glass, taking a sip straight from the glass bottle as you flicked on the television. You took another long gulp as you looked for something to watch, eventually settling on an over the top romantic comedy.

You kept drinking and the terrible movie became funnier with each tingly swallow. By the time the film was over, you were buzzed enough to be satisfied. Another movie began and you pulled your throw blanket over you as you settled in to watch, letting the fantasy take you away from your own problems.

__________________________________

“…live from downtown, still unclear what exactly I’m looking at but it appears to be some kind of structure, Lisa.”

Deet deet deet deedle! Deet deet deet deedle!

The standard ringtone of your cell phone felt alarmingly loud as you slowly cleared the fog from your mind. You barely glanced at the TV screen as you groggily fumbled for the small device, hitting the green “accept” button and holding it up to your drool-covered cheek.

“Hello…?” you mumbled.

“Oh, thank god! Honey, where are you? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

You sat up with a grimace at the panic in your mother’s voice, her shrill tone a far cry from her normally calm demeanor.

“Mom? What’re you talking about?” you replied quizzically.

“The tower! It’s all over the news!!”

The confusion swirling in your mind shifted to fear as you saw the screen at last, the reporter standing before a massive grey structure in an area you easily recognized as only a few blocks away.

“…started only a few shorts hours ago. Officials are urging residents to stay indoors until they can assess the threat, but many locals have come to see the tower for themselves. Some religious groups are already flooding the area, claiming this to be a sign from God. All I can say for sure, Lisa, is that this thing is now the tallest point within three miles…”

The reporter continued talking, but you weren’t paying any attention anymore as you took in what he was talking about – the enormous grey tower that stood behind him in the shot, dominating the screen and dwarfing the mass of people crowded by its base.

What… the… fuck…?

Chaos erupted on the screen a moment later as something punched a hole through the tower, what looked like a man and a huge beast jumping down from the new opening milliseconds later. They were too far from the camera for you to see them clearly, only dim outlines in the background of the crappy TV you’d had since college.

“Did you see that?! What is going on? Honey, you need to leave before the roads get too crowded! It isn’t safe there!”

The reporter on the screen was clearly as baffled as you were, his mouth dropping open and eyes widening comically as he struggled to find words to describe the scenario. He kept glancing back to the structure as he tried to do his job, but before he had the chance to speak again, everything changed.

Something had clearly gone wrong with the camera person; the view shifted to one from the ground as if the camera had been dropped. You could hear screams and watched in bewilderment as a tendril burst from the ground, its tip a gleaming point of sharp thorns. The image of that cruel spike streaking forward to embed itself in the reporter’s stomach dissolved the last of your remaining buzz, sobriety hitting you like a brick wall as his wails of terror echoed from your TV.

“Oh, god… Y/N, get out of there now! RUN!”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll call you when it’s safe. I love you mom!” you answered hurriedly, already rushing toward the door. You stuffed your feet back into your work shoes, slung your jacket over your shoulders and grabbed your keys. Out of habit, you took a moment to lock the door behind you before sprinting down the hallway.

Outside, you got your first look at the structure for yourself.

Its massive form rose from downtown, black and imposing. You followed its outline with your stunned eyes, looking for the top but unable to find it; it was far too tall. The structure wasn’t here when you had gotten home from work, and construction couldn’t possibly have erected such an imposing thing in the scant time since then. Its origin couldn’t possibly be natural.

So… where did it come from then?

A low rumble broke your confused thoughts as you watched a tentacle burst through the asphalt ahead. Your baffled mind struggled to process the sight as the cruelly sharp tip darted down to embed itself in the stomach of another pedestrian, a scream of pain following its sickening squelch as it struck home.

Bile rose in your throat as you instinctively moved, rushing forward even as your mind screamed at you to run away. The hideous tentacle pulled back, the impaled woman falling to the ground bonelessly as it rose again to search for its next target. A surge of adrenaline gushed through you, and you somehow managed to dodge the spike as you reached forward to pull the woman out of its range. Her blood left a streak of crimson on the sidewalk behind as you dragged her to safety.

Only then did you look down, taking stock of the damage.

Her face was already frozen in death, a look of utter terror and bewilderment marring her plain features forever. You shuddered, adding her face to the ever-growing ledger of death in your mind. You stood slowly, wiping her blood on your jeans and turning away. The street was crowded by then, more and more people coming outside to see what all the noise was from.

This is bad. They’re all going to die if they stay here.

“Hey! Everybody! You can’t stand around and watch, you’ll die! Come on, let’s go!” you shouted, a scant few heads turning to listen but far too many people ignoring your warning. You marched up to a young woman tugging a child along by the hand, their faces more curious than scared. You reached out to tap her shoulder and she glanced back at you as you spoke.

“Lady, you’re gonna get yourself and your kid killed! Look, see those tentacles? I just saw one stab someone to death with just one stroke. You have to leave, now!”

She paused, her eyes shifting to see the tentacle you indicated. Her curiosity turned to fear as she took in its sharp point, giving you a grateful nod as she turned away to drag her child somewhere safe.

You repeated your dire warning to over a dozen more bystanders, but only a third of them took you seriously and ran away. You shoved your tiredness down, your long workday making your steps drag slightly as you pressed on, determined to save as many people as you could.

You watched in horror as another few tentacles sprouted from the ground, impaling a few unlucky souls and raising their bodies like trophies to the sky. More bile rose in your throat as you heard their wails of pain and confusion. You kept moving forward, still shouting warnings to anyone who’d listen. Another tentacle rumbled out of the pavement a mere three feet from where you stood, its cruel tip gleaming in the streetlights. You stumbled slightly, leaning against the brickwork of an apartment building to keep yourself from falling to the ground.

Your exhaustion tugged at you fiercely and your eyes fluttered closed against your will as the tentacle took aim at you. All thought ceased in your mind as your death approached.

With your eyes closed, you didn't see the dark-haired man sprinting at you. You didn’t see him drop a hand-carved silver cane and slide on his hip towards you as if he was stealing third base for the Yankees. You didn’t hear his low grunt as he pushed his arm out, rising to his feet just in front of you. You didn’t see the intricate pattern on his arm lighten, or the panther explode into existence mere feet in front of you, killing the tentacle with a single swipe of its lethally sharp claws almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Instead, what you next perceived was a warm hand on your side, pushing you to the right. You opened your fear-dilated eyes, shocked that you’re still alive, and immediately caught your breath.

The man who stood before you wore a look of concern on his ridiculously, unfairly handsome features. His intense gaze caught your attention first, irises the shade of muted emeralds, glinting with every flash of light. Dark eyelashes framed his long stare, thick eyebrows only adding to the expressiveness of his piercing gaze. A prominent nose flowed from his brow line above his full, pink lips, parted as he breathed heavily before you. Beautifully intricate tattoos covered his body, partially concealed by his clothing but clearly visible on his long, toned arms. The black of the ink on his skin only served to contrast his alabaster skin tone. His hair was as dark and shiny as obsidian, barely brushing the collar of his black leather vest.

"You must move, you cannot stay here!" the beautiful stranger declared urgently with a voice like velvet.

Goddamnit, could he be any more attractive?

You tried to take a step but discovered you couldn’t find the strength, your exhaustion overwhelming you at last. He paused, seeming to study your expression and huffed in irritation.

"Fine, I'll help you then," he announced, and suddenly you were against him. You blushed scarlet as he picked you up, carrying you in his lean arms towards a nearby van. The motion shook you out of your worn-out stupor enough to be embarrassed by your helplessness.

"I - I'm sorry, I think I can walk now," you told him shakily.

He gently placed your legs on solid ground with a nod. He turned to survey the area, presumably to check for more tentacles. You took a moment to search for nearby people you could warn and found a pair, shouting the now familiar warning as you saw the panther fighting. Its form shape-shifted periodically into new shapes full of sharp edges and harsh points and your mind struggled to comprehend how this was possible, trying fruitlessly to make sense of all the outlandish sights you’d seen in the last ten minutes.

What the fuck is going on?

The stranger grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the van once more, and you tried to focus on the vehicle to avoid thinking about how many of your neighbors were now dead. It was an odd contraption, clearly customized with a neon sign on the side which read “Devil May Cry” and a laughably false phone number listed beneath it. Its grey and white paint was coated in dust and what looked like blood, not all of it dry. On his way to the van, the stranger only paused to lean over and pick up an ornate silver cane, flicking it to his side in a clearly practiced motion. You found yourself once again unable to comprehend what happened next as a cloud of black shards left his tattooed arm, drifting to the air nearby and forming a magnificent blue bird, the strangest you’d ever seen with a three-pronged beak and purple legs that seemed far too large for its body.

The bird laughed and dove at the nearest tentacle, slashing it with its talons. You heard the outlandish creature curse as the tentacle tried to stab it as it attacked.

The back door of the van suddenly crashed open, drawing your attention as a white-haired man leaned out. He was young, around your age if you had to guess. An absolutely huge sword was strapped to his back, and he waved you forward with an oversized pistol in hand.

"Hurry, we gotta go NOW, V!" he hollered. He hurriedly stowed the pistol and reached out to help you inside, the dark-haired man not far behind you. To your surprise, the panther also jumped into the van. The second you were all inside, the van took off at a speed that was nearly as terrifying as almost being impaled by mysterious tentacles, accelerating faster than you imagined a vehicle of its size could manage. Outside the van, you caught a glimpse of the strange bird you saw moments ago, flapping hard to keep up with the racing vehicle.

"Hold on, folks!" a feminine voice with a southern drawl yelled from the driver’s seat. You grabbed onto the nearest solid object, an odd countertop hidden in the corner and held on for dear life as the van dashed through the city, to somewhere (you hoped) very, VERY far away.

---V---

V looked over at the young woman he'd just rescued, wondering how long it would be before you were calm enough to think clearly. Your hands were shaking, eyes wide and dilated. As he watched, your jaw clenched and your hands steadied as you inhaled deeply. You closed your eyes, let out the breath in a reassuring sigh and turned to face him as the van sped past the crowds of terrified residents, various pieces of kitchen equipment and power tools clanging at every pothole Nico drove over.

"Thank you for saving me. I... I think I would be dead if not for you," you whispered softly. Your eyes were still fearful, but you seemed coherent enough. He took a moment to gaze at you, taking in your appearance. You had gentle features; a kind face. He felt an odd sensation in his stomach as he recalled your words.

"And the maiden soon forgot her fear. Are you alright? Perhaps you ought to sit down," he responded gently and gestured at the worn couch under the window.

You nodded and cautiously made your way to it, keeping your knees bent to compensate for Nico’s wild movements. As you moved, V studied you more closely. He was curious - most civilians didn’t exhibit this level of stoic acceptance after first encountering the demonic roots, not to mention the fact that you had been actively trying to warn others and urging them to run. Your quick calmness was... intriguing. He couldn't tell if you had any demonic blood, but you obviously weren't unfamiliar with fear. No one who could calm themselves that quickly was new to the feeling, he knew.

"My name is V, that's Nero, and Nico is driving. Griffon is outside and her name is Shadow. What shall we call you?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the van wall casually. He gestured to each named being as he introduced them, Griffon and Shadow returning to him as the vehicle got farther away from danger. Your eyes widened as the black shards sank into his skin.

You glanced away, quick to look elsewhere as your cheeks flush slightly, he noticed. Perhaps she’s embarrassed about needing to be saved?

"My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you all,” you responded finally. “Um, do you know what those... tentacle things were? Where did they come from?"

V smirked. This might take a while to explain.

---Reader---

Demons.

Demons are real.

Demons are real and attacking my home.

"Holy shit," you exclaimed, eyes wide, looking back and forth between the two men. "So, wait, how do you kill them? Why are they here? How can we stop them from killing people?"

Nero laughed, but not unkindly. He seemed genuinely amused as he sat down on your right, leaning back against the couch cushion nonchalantly.

"Slow down, Y/N! They aren't too hard to kill, at least the lower powered ones. Pretty much anything that would kill a human can kill a demon; guns, swords, punches, you get the idea. Don't really know why they're here, but V might."

V smirked, his full lips twisting in a way that made your eyes flick to them for a heartbeat too long. You scolded yourself; this isn't the time for that!

"They are here because of Urizen. The Demon King, as he calls himself. For now, we should find somewhere to rest, gather resources. As for you, Y/N, forgive me but you don't seem like you're quite up to fighting demons. We can take you to the edge of the city, but from there you must make your own way to safety."

You paused, considering his words. He wasn't wrong; you had no combat experience and didn’t know how to be helpful in a fight. Not to mention you were completely terrified, as well as you tried to conceal it.

This is insanity. These people are mad, fighting those things. We should all just run, go somewhere else and leave this city as far behind as possible.

Yet even the thought of abandoning the people still in the city felt... wrong. You didn't want to run from this, especially not with this feeling, like you were magnetized to this group. You couldn’t just walk away when so many people were dying; you had to balance the scales!

I’m going to get myself killed. What am I thinking, I can’t help people if I’m dead! But.. there are so many people here. They’re all going to die too.

You took a deep breath before speaking, brutally shoving your fear to the farthest corner of your mind and focusing on what little you could do to help the small group.

"It's true, I'm not really a fighter. I’m a nurse, and I've been studying surgical procedures to prepare for medical school. I can help you if anyone gets injured. As much as I'd like to not have to face those things ever again, it wouldn't be right if I left. I wouldn't feel right," you explained uneasily, hoping the group didn't judge you too harshly for your previous terror.

V raised an eyebrow at that, then glanced at Nero. “The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest,” he recited simply. Nero shrugged, and for the first time you got a good look at his right arm. You gasped as you saw the haphazard bandages covering a stump, blood stains showing in a deep rust shade, a recent amputation that clearly hadn’t been taken care of properly.

"At the very least let me dress that! You'll get an infection or sepsis; it could kill you!"

V snorted, to your surprise. "You mean he would be... dead weight?" he commented, obviously amused. His intense emerald eyes flicked to yours as if sharing an intimate joke, and you smiled at him hesitantly.

Nero turned red, muttering to himself for a moment about someone named Dante, then nodded at you sullenly. Clearly V’s words had hit a sore spot.

"Fine, when we stop you can take a look," he grumbled. He shot a glare at V, then shuffled off to sit in the front with Nico, leaving you alone with the obsidian haired man. You could hear them talking for a while but couldn't tell what they were saying. You turned back to V, mind still whirling with questions.

His long fingers pulled a thin book from within his leather vest, clearly preparing to read. You swallowed your questions for the time being, not wanting to interrupt the strange man’s reading.

I need to rest; I can barely keep my eyes open. The adrenaline must be fading.

You leaned back into the couch, reassured that with this group you could sleep in safety, closed your eyes and drifted off into oblivion.

__________________________________

You dreamt of the past. Your mind never blessed you with pleasant dreams anymore, always seeking to understand, to learn more from memories that your waking mind knew would bring only pain. Memory is the enemy of peace, after all.

The familiar sounds were there, as always. The crack of glass breaking and the high-pitched screams of your friend, the unmistakable sound of her gasping breaths.

Then the visuals. Shadows dancing like a sick ballet on the wall of the shed. Dead eyes staring up at you as a warning. The flash of light on gleaming steel as ---

__________________________________

You awakened with a jolt as Nico slammed the brakes, causing you to slide unceremoniously into V. He had sat down at some point next to you. With lightning reflexes, his arm shot out and held you close as the rattling van mercifully slid to a full stop, keeping you from falling to the floor. You could feel him breathing under you, smell his scent of leather and lavender. The combined sensory input was... intoxicating. You tried to pull away, but he held you for a split second before letting go. You blushed furiously, sure that he was teasing you. You couldn’t bear to look at him so you missed the look of regret he gave you and didn’t see him lick his lips before speaking.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" he inquired softly, his tone almost a growl.

You internally cursed his voice for having such a pleasant sound before responding.

"Yeah, thanks for the help... again."

V chuckled under his breath, then returned to his reading. Sitting so close to him, you caught a glimpse inside the pages to see a flowing script and beautifully colored illustrations. Forgetting your embarrassment and the lingering fear from the nightmare, you asked what he was reading.

"Poetry. Would you like to hear some?" he responded, his voice like warm honey.

The thought of his voice reciting poetry sent your mind spinning. Nope, no way, nuh uh, you’ve already made enough of an ass out of yourself, so you just hold your horses there, girl. There’re bigger things to be worried about anyway, like DEMONS!

"Sure,” your rebellious mouth stated.

Goddamit. Stupid mouth.

He smiled, gaze returning to the pages as he chose a piece to read.

“I will not cease from mental fight, Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem, In England’s green and pleasant land,” he recited, his voice melodious and perfectly timed.

“Beautiful,” you whispered, the words rolling in your mind as you digested them, finding meaning in the short excerpt as a low hum of recognition passed through you. “Is that… William Blake?”

V nodded, seemingly taken aback.

“You enjoy poetry?” he asked you.

You felt your cheeks tinting as he studied you intently as you replied, “I guess you could say I’m a bit of a bookworm. Literature is a gift.”

The outer corners of his lips twitched, smiling for a fraction of an instant. If you had blinked you would have missed it. He seemed pleased by your response and you smiled at him shyly, shifting your weight awkwardly.

“I couldn’t agree more, much to our companions dismay. They are of a different mindset,” he replied thoughtfully.

“What’s your favorite poem, V?” you probed him, enjoying the chance to talk with someone who shared your enjoyment of words.

“I’ve come to enjoy The Book of Thel a great deal, are you familiar?”

It rang a bell but you couldn’t remember any details of the work.

“I read it many years ago, though I can’t remember any of it now,” you responded.

“Allow me, then; Why thou complainest not when in one hour thou fade away: Then we shall seek thee but not find; ah Thel is like to thee. I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice.”

You sat in silence, letting the words sink in. V’s soothing voice added a layer of complexity to them, sounding quite sad and mournful as he recited.

Luckily for you, Nero chose that exact moment to trudge over to you with a small red box labeled "first aid". He sighed, seeming to have resigned himself to your treatment.

As if it isn't in his best interest anyway.

"Let's get this over with, Y/N," he grunted. V stood and gave you a nod as he walked away a few feet to continue his reading. You focused your mind on the task at hand, pushing the memory of his voice away.

---V---

V watched you gently remove the bandages from Nero's arm, trying to figure out his reaction to your words. None of the others he had become familiar with enjoyed poetry, several rolling their eyes the first few times he quoted a line in conversation until they became accustomed and ignored it entirely. He felt his heart warm slightly by the shared enjoyment, a distraction from his mission. A pleasant distraction, but a distraction nonetheless. He must remain focused - he didn't have time for any fellowships or pleasant conversations.

Yet still, he found himself watching you redress Nero's arm, wondering what your touch felt like. Perhaps that was it? Perhaps he simply wanted to be touched, to feel connected? That would explain most of his reactions to you so far.

Enough of this. Focus. Too much is at stake.

He mentally shook himself and returned his gaze to the words on the painted pages before him, forcing himself to pay attention and read the now familiar text.

I am in you, and you in me. Mutual in divine love.

V sighed and rolled his eyes.

How unhelpful.

He glanced back at you and Nero, seeing you smile at something the white haired warrior had said. Laughing. He wondered what that felt like as well, to share mirth in such a way with another person.

A memory played in his mind, of many years ago. It was a simple one, a trifle really. He was playing with Dante in the backyard, not long before... before. The two of them were laughing together over a fort they had built out of sticks, the structure haphazard and childish. Their mother was nearby, keeping a careful eye on them as they played.

He smiled softly at the thought, wondering if Dante had any fond memories of them as children. Somehow, he doubted it.

Again with the distractions. Enough is enough.

V looked out the window, easily spotting the already massive tree in the center of town. The sight helped him focus, helped him remember his priorities.

---Reader---

After removing the old bandages, you took a moment to examine the wound. It was in bad shape, looking as if Nero had initially seen a doctor but later popped the stitches in at least three places, leaving open wounds to fester and bleed freely. There was already a slight infection, but nothing too serious if he let you take care of it and didn’t do anything stupid.

“How long ago did this happen, Nero?” you asked.

“It was April 30th, so sixteen days ago,” he informed you as he watched you examine him.

“Ah, alright then. It should heal fully in about two to six more weeks, until then you need to change the bandage at least once a day, if not more,” you explained to the willful young man.

You dug through the poorly organized first aid kit, finding an unopened bottle of antiseptic and several rolls of bandages. Some gauze patches lied on the bottom.

Perfect, now all I need is a towel or a bowl.

You looked to your left and right, eventually finding a small cup that would work well enough. You carefully angled Nero’s arm over the cup and got the antiseptic ready.

“This will hurt a bit, Nero,” you warned him. He nodded, ready, and you slowly poured the fluid over his injury and let it drip into the waiting cup below. He grunted but didn’t pull away. Once the drips had slowed enough, you laid a gauze patch over his half-healed stitches, using one hand to hold it in place as your other reached to grasp the bandage roll. You used your teeth to get the first portion open, proceeding to gently but firmly wrap up Nero’s arm. You used the scissors from the kit to cut the end and secured it with a satisfied smile.

“All set,” you told him.

Nero carefully moved his arm, testing the bandage's flexibility. You knew he would, he seemed the type to never hold still if he could help it. You’d seen many people like him come through the emergency room, struggling to hold still as you treated whatever they came in for even as their lack of stillness worsened their condition.

"Feels good, Y/N! Thanks! You are handy!" He jumped up, throwing a few experimental punches, bobbing and weaving like he was in a boxing match with Muhammad Ali himself. You laughed as he feigned dodging a blow; his antics allowed you to forget the horrors of what you’d witnessed for an all-too-brief moment.

"Hey hey hey, not in the van! Take it outside, jerkwad!" Nico exclaimed hurriedly, coming out from her perch in the drivers seat. She pushed Nero towards the door, forced him outside and slammed the door behind him.

“Sheesh, what an ass…” she muttered under her breath, but you could tell she meant it with affection. She looked like she’d be happiest on a construction site or in a garage. A multitude of tools were strapped to her shorts and you could see oil on her arms, along with tattoos that seemed to revolve around guns and skulls. She pulled out a cigarette, lighting it as she leaned over to you.

“Hi, I’m Nico. Welcome to the Devil May Cry-mobile, I’m your resident genius gunsmith and artist extraordinaire. You joinin’ the team? Would be nice to have another lady along for the ride!”

Your eyes flicked to V as your thoughts debated your options again.

What about my life? What about going back to school, learning to be a trauma surgeon? Can I really justify putting that on hold, maybe even abandoning it entirely to help these people?

…How can I not?

V smirked knowingly but nodded before following Nero outside, waving his hand through a cloud of Nico’s expelled cigarette smoke as he passed.

“I guess I am,” you replied, smiling and doing your best to ignore the panic in your mind at the thought of staying in an area full of... demons. The thought of their existence brought a surreal feeling to your mind and you wondered if this entire day had been a dream. A new nightmare shaped to ensure you paid it the attention it demanded.

“Awesome! You wouldn’t happen to know how to cook, would’ja? Nero’s hopeless and V’s somehow worse, and my cooking skills don’t extend beyond cereal and mac and cheese,” she asked with a smile on her face.

You found her smile infectious, and you felt your own lips stretching into a grin as well as you responded, “I’m no master chef, but I get by all right.”

She clapped your back in a friendly manner, taking a pull from her cigarette. The tang of nicotine filled the air as she exhaled, the enclosed space holding the smoke captive. You ignored the scent, used to it after years of exposure.

“All right! Well, we’re probably gonna stay here for the night, kitchen’s in that corner if you’re hungry. The guys generally sleep outside but I think you could squeeze in here with me for now. Sound good?”

You nodded, grateful for her easy acceptance of you even as your mind still struggled to control your overwhelming fear. You found yourself warming to her quickly, despite a history of not getting along well with other women. Glancing at the kitchen, you spotted the cereal she mentioned sitting atop a stovetop. There were a few cupboards but not much else. You hoped you could gather some basic food staples in the morning, but for now the call of hunger was weaker than the call of rest. You yawned, almost cracking your jaw in the process.

“Here, I’ll get ya a pillow and another blanket, bout ready to crash myself!” Nico commented. She opened another cupboard, pulling out a small but fluffy looking pillow and a fleece blanket. She handed them to you, put out her cigarette in an ashtray nearby and gave you a salute before climbing a tiny ladder to what you assumed was a hidden bed.

“Goodnight, Nico. Thanks,” you said through another yawn. You heard a soft click and the van went dark.

“No problem, new girl. Night!”

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

#fanfic #SBHS #v x reader #my writing #dmc5 v #dmc5 #dmc #dmcv #dmc nero #dmc nico #vitale #devil may cry #reader insert

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