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#i drew this a couple months ago but i only just started watching the anime hh
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Lovesong
This is for @being-worthy. Slash x First Person POV. Mild smut.
I was furious. It was like he had cut off contact with me. His own girlfriend. What the hell was going on?
Slash was hardly ever home anymore. He spent so much time "in the studio" and with his friends that it felt like our house was just mine, despite the fact that he had paid for it. 
We'd moved here to Pasadena about two years ago. Back then he was the most doting boyfriend I had ever had, and we were deeply in love. However, when he started pulling away a few months ago, it began to seem that I was the only one invested in our relationship.
I worked at the Norton Simon Museum as their main archivist, and I took my job very seriously. Art History was my passion, so when I was offered the position, I knew I had to take it. At that point, Slash and I had been dating for just five months. I wasn't sure how he'd handle me moving, but to my surprise, he was thrilled. It was already euphoric to be starting an exciting new job and for my boyfriend to be happy for me. When he asked me if I would consider moving to Pasadena with him, I just about melted. It was perfect, and for the first time, I had real hope for my future.
We were unstoppable. He was making more music than he had since the early nineties, and I had more standing in the art community than I had ever dreamed I would. I abhorred the term "power couple", but people occasionally told us we were one. 
Despite being very dedicated to our respective careers, we found each other to be the most important things in our lives. He would have bought me anything I wanted if I asked, but his companionship was enough for me.
Which is why my confusion at his withdrawal led to hurt and eventually anger. I was a patient, cool-headed woman, but this was too much for me to bear. He was my world, and I couldn't understand why he was being so distant. Had I done something wrong? Did he have a secret? He couldn't possibly be having an affair. He wouldn't. But sometimes, when it was late at night and I'd be tossing and turning in our bed, I'd imagine him flirting with some other woman. She would be prettier and cooler than me, I was sure of it, and he'd flash her that beautiful smile. Then, my thoughts would take a darker turn. Scenes of him wrapped around some gorgeous model tormented me to no end. 
In the morning, I'd brush those traitorous notions away and try to attend to my work as normal. We were both grown adults in a committed relationship; something like that would never happen. Rocky periods were inevitable. Things would go back to normal soon.
"Hey, honey, I'm home."
My chest clenched and I tried to suppress my emotions. Taking a deep breath, I padded into the kitchen and kissed his cheek. My lips scratched against some stubble, and he pulled me closer to enfold me in his arms.
"Hi, baby girl," he murmured into my hair.
I shut my eyes and snuggled into his chest. The scent of his laundry detergent, which was a different brand from mine, was soothing. My mind automatically associated it with him.
After a minute, I drew back and looked him in the eye. "Why didn't you text to tell me you'd be coming home? I've missed you."
A pained expression formed on his face. "My phone battery died. I'm sorry."
You fought back a sigh. "It's okay. Do you want to order take-out?"
He shook his head. "I ate on the road. You should, though. That Thai place we got last time was really good."
That Thai place had been two whole months ago, and it was the last meal they had shared.
"I might. Go rest," I ordered. "You look tired."
He bent forward and kissed my forehead. "I'll try to stay up."
I shook my head. "Don't worry about me. I've got a full season of JoJo to watch."
He gave me an amused smile and headed to our bedroom. Anime was an obsession of mine he didn't fully understand, but he would sometimes sit and watch to indulge me. In return, I'd sacrifice my sanity by viewing his favorite horror films. Although, it had been a while since we'd had a movie night.
That thought made the pang of hurt in my stomach flare up again. I pulled out my phone to look up the number of the Thai restaurant. Food always helped.
Our anniversary was around the corner. I wasn't expecting anything fancy, but an evening out would be nice. The anticipation of having Slash all to myself for the weekend was threatening to disturb my focus at work. There were several occasions where I had zoned out at my desk when I should have been firing off emails.
As much as I wanted to do nothing but smother him with affection, I knew that it was important we talk. He had told me that he'd be home from Friday night to Monday morning, so I was hoping we could get the discussion overwith as soon as possible in order to have the rest of the weekend to bond. I spent all three days leading up to his return praying that we'd be able to address the state of our relationship.
On Friday evening, I was just getting out of the shower when the front door clicked open.
"Slash?" 
"Sorry, it's Chris!" a voice called. "He asked me to come here."
I frowned. Why the fuck was Chris in my house at this hour? He was a close friend of Slash's whom I had met a few times, but he'd never been to our house.
After wrapping myself up in a robe, I entered the living area and looked at him expectantly.
"Hey, Chris. How are you doing?"
He gave an uncomfortable smile. "I'm good, thanks for asking."
When he didn't go on, I began questioning him. "Uh, you said Slash told you to visit?"
He nodded.
"Why?" I tried to keep my voice casual but I was panicking on the inside. 
"He can't come home this weekend and wanted me to tell you in person."
I sat down on the couch and breathed through my nose. "I-okay. Did he not say why?"
Chris moved further into the room but remained standing. He fixed me with an apologetic look. "Listen," he said. "There is nowhere he'd rather be than here with you. We're just...stuck on something right now, and he couldn't leave."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" 
I felt a twinge of guilt when he turned red. It wasn't his fault my boyfriend had totally blown me off.
"I'm really sorry-"
"No," I cut him off. "I shouldn't have snapped at you."
He stuffed his hands in his pockets awkwardly and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Thank you...for driving all the way here to tell me." It took me more energy than I had at the moment to sound civil. 
Chris's expression turned somewhat pitiful. "Of course. Is there anything you want me to let him know?"
I shook my head quickly. "No. Nothing. I can call him myself. It's, um, better if you leave now." 
"Right." He stood there for a few seconds before turning promptly on his heels and striding out the door.
When I heard his car engine turn on, I sank down into the cushions, not even caring that my hair was soaking them. Tears of frustration started to well up, and I let them fall.
I had planned on giving Slash a chance to explain himself. That's what the weekend was meant for. He would confess a legitimate (hopefully romantic) reason for being away so much and then take me to bed. The next morning, we'd have a cozy breakfast and maybe go to a movie. It should have been perfect, and now it was ruined. 
I was done. Where before there had been excitement there was exhaustion. It was too much to process, and my body recognized that. After crying for a few minutes more, I hauled myself up from the couch and went to sleep.
The next day, I broke up with him.
________________
I couldn't breathe properly. It was like my chest had decided to shut down.
She couldn't leave. Not now. God, not now.
I had spent the past three months pouring my heart out into this album. It was supposed to be a gift. Every song, every note, every word, was for her. I wasn't one to spill my feelings, but I could tell the guys saw through me anyways. To my relief, they didn't question any of the lyrics and focused on the music instead.
It was good to be in the studio, but the stress had started getting to me quickly. I was so nervous about how the end product would turn out that I became a bit of a production tyrant.
"Hey, man."
I looked up form my phone and gave a tight-lipped smile to Chris. "What's up?"
He shrugged. "Are you good?"
"M'fine," I mumbled, returning my gaze to the screen. "I'll be over in five."
I ignored Chris's footsteps walking away and began to type.
SLASH: I'm so sorry babygirl
                I can explain everything if you just talk to me. PLEASE 
               You have no fucking idea how sorry I am angel. 
               I'm begging 
BABY <3: you had so many chances slash
                    I can't put myself through any more of this
                   some day if you want to try again. maybe
SLASH: I want to fix this now. Right fucking now. Just please give me another chance.
BABY <3: I can't.
I rested my head on my hands and stared at the floor while trying to keep calm. It was okay. Everything was going to be fine. I still had time to fix this. 
I took in a deep breath and walked back into the studio, prepared to focus on recording. I wouldn't give up.
I made myself drive home late at night after we had finished for the day, but when I got there, it was empty. The only light on was in the kitchen.
I gulped and walked hesitantly over to the big island. Stuck to the granite was a sticky note that said "goodbye". That was all she had given me. One word written on a tiny piece of paper. 
After crumpling it up and throwing it in the bin, I moved into our bedroom. Her closet, which was next to mine, was empty. Our attached bathroom held no remaining traces of her either, no face cream, no blow dryer, no little pots of shimmery eyeshadow. The rest of the house looked to be the same. She had completely removed herself from my life.
Not being able to bear sleeping in our bed without her, I chose the couch for the night. My sleep was restless and discontent, but when I awoke, I was filled with more determination than ever before.
She needed space from me. I had hurt her, after all. It would be terribly selfish to deny her time to recover. I decided that my next step would be to keep working on the album. Once it was finished, I would allow myself to seek her out and give a proper apology. 
About a month after she left me, we wrapped up production and were ready to release the album. If it had been a normal project, there would have been months of build-up and press, but since it was meant to be a surprise gift, I didn't want to do that. It was decided that the album would debut only ten weeks later, and that it would drop without notice. 
I spent every one of those weeks thinking about her and imagining a future for us. I was not religious, but I prayed several times for her to accept me.
________________
Ever since I woke up, the day had been crazy. The first thing I saw when I turned on my phone in the morning was a million notifications from my friends, family, and even colleagues. There were frantic texts, calls, and emails all asking me about some music Slash had apparently just released.
I was confused and more than a little upset. My decision to leave him had been extremely hard on me and they knew that, so why were they blowing up my phone on his behalf? And what was this surprise album?
After setting my phone so I wouldn't receive notifications, I hesitantly googled his name. 
The results were astounding. Article after article inquired about the subject of his new songs. As I scrolled down the search page, my chest grew tighter. The title of a piece posted on some fluffy tabloid stood out to me.
Sources say that Slash wrote new album for his "recent ex-girlfriend"
I sat in my car with my phone clenched in one hand and my keys in the other. Work started at nine o'clock, and it was currently fifteen 'til, meaning I was late. 
After a minute of staring into space, I jammed my keys into the ignition and connected my phone to the stereo system. Scrolling through Spotify, I found the new album and clicked play. 
The first few notes of his guitar rang through my car, and I began to cry. 
I had managed to make it to the museum without crashing and was now sitting at my desk with my headphones on. Slash's playing filled my ears. It was the second time listening to his album in two hours. 
My album, I couldn't help thinking. He had made it for me, the supposed love of his life. The thought of that left me in a state of weepiness. Who knew if he still felt that way now that I was gone.
Although I was able to focus a little bit while listening, it was only after the final song ended that I could buckle down and get some good work done. Perhaps there was no use dwelling in the past. He likely never wanted to see me again.
A bitter feeling of resentment settled in my stomach. Resentment toward myself but also toward him. We had ruined a good thing for the both of us. If he had just communicated with me, I would have understood. We'd still be together.
Shortly into my lunch break, my work phone rang. I leaned over my desk to pick it up.
"Hello, this is the Norton's Department of Archives, how may I help you?"
"Your ex is here and he'd like to speak with you."
My jaw dropped. "I-seriously? Mandy, are you for real?"
"Yes, I am being serious," the woman said. "What do you want me to say? Just let me know and I'll tell him to leave."
Slash was here. Right now. 
"Um, okay." My voice was wobbly and I had to take a moment to compose myself. "You can let him upstairs."
The line was silent for a few seconds. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," I said firmly. 
"Alright, I'll let him know."
I slammed down the phone and proceeded to wipe my palms on a napkin. They had begun to sweat during the call, along with my underarms and lower back. I was truly terrified. 
My lunch lay forgotten as I hurried to use the bathroom before he arrived. I blotted some paper towel on my armpits to soak up the sweat and then splashed my face with cold water, hoping it would soothe the red in my eyes from crying.
When I got back to my desk, he was there. I stopped several feet away.
Slash had turned around at the sound of my heels clacking on the floor. His mouth parted as he took me in, and he fiddled with his belt buckle. I realized that he was as affected by my presence as I was of his.
"Hi," I croaked.
"Hey," he replied softly. "It's been a minute."
"Yeah, um, it has. How have you been doing?"
His dark eyes bored into mine and took my breath away.
"Like hell, to be honest."
The tightness in my chest began to unwind. "Me too. I - I don't know what to say, Slash. I listened to the album."
He tensed and leaned against my desk. When he spoke, his tone was hesitant. "What...did you think of it?"
I choked on a sob. "It was beautiful."
A heart wrenching look appeared on his face. 
"I wish you had talked to me," I continued. "I wish you hadn't been gone so much. I felt like you were abandoning me. Like - like you didn't want me anymore." 
He strode forward and wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "I could never not want you, and I'll never forgive myself for making you think that."
I took in a shuddering breath and dragged his hand off my face to place it in my own. After glancing at our intertwined fingers, I brought my attention back up to him. 
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "For leaving."
"Don't be. It was my fault. I was so worried about keeping the album a secret that I let it get in the way of spending time with you." He squeezed my hand hard. "But I swear on my life that I never meant to hurt you. I love you more than anything in the world, do you understand?"
I whimpered. "You love me?"
He nodded. "I never stopped."
I crashed into his chest and wrapped my arms around him, all the while bawling. He returned my embrace immediately and nuzzled his lips against my neck.
"I'm so sorry, baby" he mumbled. "Love you."
He caressed me and rocked us back and forth. After a while, my cries quieted to sniffles and I pulled back.
Smiling, I tugged on one of his curls and brushed my lips over his.
"Does this mean you're moving back in?" he asked hopefully.
I threw my head back and laughed. "Yes."
"Good." He grinned and tilted my chin up to kiss me. 
My body went slack when his mouth pressed onto mine. The heartbreak floated away, and I almost started weeping again from how good it felt. 
His mouth began to travel off of mine. He dusted tiny kisses across my temple, my eyelids, and my cheeks. 
"Which song was your favorite?"
I hummed dreamily. "First one."
"Yeah?"
"Mmhm."
"Will you come with me?" he implored.
Reader, I am mildly ashamed to say that I did.
There were several deadlines I needed to meet by the end of the week, and I was nowhere near finished with them. In spite of this, I let him drive me back to my apartment and ravish me. 
________________
We took our time. My body was ready to spring, but I forced myself to savor our reunion.
His thick arms and torso were my favorite, but I liked his legs as well. Before either of us had undressed fully, I gently pushed him onto the bed and saddled his left thigh. His pupils dilated when he realized what I was going to do and he gripped my hips tightly.
Although I wasn't wholly naked, I had gotten rid of my trousers. Only a flimsy layer of cotton separated my sex from the rough denim of his jeans. 
I began to grind myself into his thigh. It had been a while since I'd found release, so the pressure grew quickly. It didn't take long for me to start groaning. I leaned forward slightly to get a better angle and picked up the pace. Slash started to sweet-talk.
"So perfect. You look so good riding my leg."
"Uh-huh," I sighed. "I - look - so pretty."
"Did you do this while I was away?"
I groaned loudly as a wave of pleasure hit me. "Yeah -ah. Yeah. So many times."
"What did you think of?"
I was almost there. Almost fucking there. "You," I gasped.
"That's it, baby girl. Come on me."
My orgasm hit me like a freight train, and I rode it out as long as possible. Finally, I stopped moving and slumped onto his chest. 
"Oh my God." 
Slash laughed and patted my head. "You're face is always the same when you come."
"What?" I asked indignantly, still panting. 
"Your tongue sticks out between your teeth, and you can never keep your eyes open."
"Fuck you."
"It's so fucking hot."
I slid off of him and got to work on his jeans. He sat up and watched me unbuckle his belt. Once I was done, my hands paused on the elastic band of his underwear. 
His eyes flickered with heat. "Don't you dare stop."
I had been stupid to doubt. There was nowhere we belonged but with each other. 
"Don't worry, baby. I'm just taking my time."
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tnc-n3cl · 3 months
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Fanfic asks for the new year!
Do you have a word-count goal for the upcoming year?
Do you anticipate writing for a new fandom this year? Which one?
Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?
Do you have a word-count goal for the upcoming year?No. I don't really worry about word-counts. Although, setting a goal might help motivate me some...
Do you anticipate writing for a new fandom this year? Which one?
Given that I'm going to be playing a bunch of Final Fantasy until say late March into April, it is entirely likely that I'm going to end up writing that "Untitled Final Fantasy Fic Idea" at some point.
Honestly, I'm kinda surprised my binge watching of the Castlevania anime back in October didn't make me full on spiral into it. I had/have ideas but they kinda just petered out after a month or two.
Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?
I'm torn between The Tale of the Realm Walker and Shifting Tides of Fate. However, given that I started TTotRW and never finished it a couple years ago now, I think I'm going to try to focus more on that one. (Really I just need to write the final chapter then do some heavy editing to get it in line with my current plans.)I'll post a snippet of The Tale of the Realm Walker below the cut. This is a story set 20 years after the events of Wind Waker and focuses heavily on the Rito and Twili (through Ildia, daughter of the Hero of Twilight (aka Link) and Midna).
[I'm skipping the very long description of Rinal, the primary Rito character, but he looks a lot like Revali, but with sapphire blue eyes, rust-colored feathers, a single braided ponytail with blue ribbons and yellow beads, and he uses a spear. Possibly a bit taller too... Clothes are like WW-Rito clothes but with leather breastplates. I'm hybridizing the BotW and WW Rito styles, so BotW but their arms transform into wings and vice versa. His wingmen are standard russet plumed Rito but with red eyes like in WW.] [Side note: Kass is the narrator. Originally the story bounced between past and present as Revali's mother read it to him when he was ten. Those Revali focused segments will end up in The Long Nightmare and possibly in The Azure Phoenix.]
As Rinal and his wingmen were flying high above the island, they saw a mysterious woman with a strange, skirisha (ski-ri-sha), or ultraviolet, aura around her body standing near the sign warning people to be careful around the bomb fruits.  The docks that had been built nearby were empty however and there were no ships in sight for miles. 
“Stay right there!” Rinal yelled to the woman before his group swooped down.   
Rinal and his wingmen landed around her in a triangular formation, with Rinal in front of her and his wingmen behind her.  They changed their wings back into arms and Rinal’s two wingmen drew their Heron Spears and pointed them at her as he walked up to talk to her. 
“How did you get here?” he asked her, “Where’s your ship?” 
The mysterious woman replied, “My ship was lost in a storm and I washed up here.  My name is Ildia.” 
He didn’t buy her story at all, for there hadn’t been any storms nearby for days! 
“What are you?” Rinal asked. 
She replied inquisitively,
“What do you mean?  I’m just a simple Hylian traveler.”
Rinal knew better, not only was there a skirisha aura around her, but there were skirisha lines running across her clothes, as if they were under her clothes.  Her outward appearance was some kind of illusion created by magic! 
Rinal drew his spear and pointed it at the woman as he told her, “There are few humans left on the islands, and they don’t glow skirisha.  What are you and why are you here?” 
The woman cocked her head to the side in confusion as she knew nothing of our language.  In fact, she seemed very surprised to see Rinal and his group, as if she had never seen or even heard of a Rito before. 
“Skirisha?” she asked. 
Rinal was surprised she was able to pronounce it right after hearing the word only once as he replied, “It doesn’t have a translation in the human tongue.  It’s a shade of blue you mammals can’t see from what I understand.” 
The woman’s eyes lit up as she realized what he was talking about, then she replied, “Oh!  You’re talking about ultraviolet light.” 
Then the woman waved her hand in front of her face and the aura disappeared. Now Rinal could see her true form!  
She looked like a Hylian, but her skin was a strange blue-gray tone and her hair was an unearthly shade of orange.  The whites of her eyes had a hint of yellow and her irises were mismatched, the left one was light blue while the right one was dark red. She was wearing full plate mail armor black as night with glowing light blue lines running across it and a red cape attached to her back, in addition she had a pair of swords at her waist, one on each hip. 
While the guard and handle looked mostly identical, the pommels were different, one was solid and looked not unlike the one on the legendary blade of evil’s bane.  The other one however, had a clear, blue spherical gem being held in place by four horn like protrusions.
“I mean you no harm, whoever or whatever you are,” the woman said as she put her hands above her head. 
Rinal cocked his head to the left and said, “My name is Rinal.  I am a Rito and as a Warrior it is my duty to protect my people.”
The woman replied, “Well, Rinal, just point me in the direction of Hyrule and I’ll be out of your feathers.” 
This confused him, everyone on the Great Sea knew that Hyrule was lost forever beneath the waves. 
He responded, “You’re standing on what’s left of Hyrule.” 
The woman’s eyes widened and she responded with her voice full of genuine confusion and concern, “What?” 
Rinal glared at her for a moment before he asked, “You really don’t know do you?”
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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years
Text
white wolf: “the story of a first date”
first part — second part — third part — fourth part (soon)
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© @capsgrantrogers
bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.
Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it's a disaster, but he gets it.
word count: 3.147 words. (not sorry, it worth it, i promise!!!)
warnings/tags: none. bucky being the cutest gentleman in the whole wide world, and sam keeping an eye on him.
author notes: as it happened with the first part, i'm not really happy with the result but i had so much fun writing it and i think that that made this writing perfect, so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed it. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.
Join the tag list here.
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The car stopped because of a red light, a moment where Sam took the advantage to turn at his copilot, glancing at Bucky from top to bottom in complete silence. Analyzing him. The soldier tilted his head raising an eyebrow, showing his curiosity about what the hell he was doing.
“What are you gonna wear, uh?” Sam asked then, maintaining a serious gesture on his face.
“Clothes”. Unworriedly, he put back his eyes to the front window.
“You probably look good naked, but that’s not what I’m talking ‘bout”.
“Just… some jeans, a shirt, and a jacket”.
“And shoes, I guess”.
Bucky turned on his seat towards his friend, squinting confused for the interrogatory. “Who cares?”
“About the shoe—”
“About the clothes”.
“Man, it’s a date! Do you wan’her to remember this night as the night Bucky Barnes shown up as a Russian bum?”
“I’m from Brookl—”.
“Yeah, but you look like mother Russia just spat you to the world”.
Sam rolled his eyes as a sigh escaped his mouth. Shaking his head, he took the next corner to the fifth avenue changing the planes they had in mind. A good outfit meant a good date. A good date meant happy soldier. Happy soldier meant no trouble. See the point? So the Falcon would take care of the Winter Soldier today. If only Steve could see them. He’d feel proud, that was for sure. They visited a couple of shops, finally letting Sam take control over the situation and pick the clothes he would wear for you. He had good taste, everybody knew that, and Bucky couldn’t complain about his choices.
Even less when the distinctive black suit dressed his anatomy to perfection. Spinning around in front of the mirror, he felt different. He looked different. He looked good, but not as he’d like. Holding the bucket of flowers once he was ready, Bucky left his apartment straight to the garage under the building. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie. But he had that sensation inside him that made him believe everything would be okay for the first time since he woke up.
The road didn’t take him more than ten minutes, not really worried about the time given that he had planned to arrive a little sooner than accorded. Life seemed like it was smiling at him, finding a parking lot in the same entrance. Landing his blue eyes on the rearview mirror, Bucky took a last view at his reflection, brushing back his hair as he used to do in the forties. He grabbed then the flowers he bought for you and stepped out of the car, trying to remember the advice Sam gave him. Resting his back against the copilot's door, he waited impatiently for you.
“Hey, you”.
His heart stopped for a second, raising his orbs to the man coming closer. Before he could react, the man in question tucked a hand beneath Bucky's jacket. Patting him down.
“What the hell are you doing, Sam?” He questioned irritatedly, slapping his hands and causing him to laugh.
“Just checking you didn't bring the notecards again”.
“Yeah, very funny…”
“Man, look at you! Should be illegal to look this good, uh?” Sam helped him to put on the jacket again, receiving another slap from his friend.
“Don't touch me”. Scowling, he fixed the flowers in his left hand, wanting them to be perfect. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”
“Watch you till (Y/N) comes. Lemme take a picture, I feel like a proud father on his son's prom day”.
“You're not m— Get the hell outta here, Sam”.
“Fighting again, kids? Should I call your mama?”
As Bucky heard you scoff, his soul abandoned. His pupils dilated. His legs trembled. And he could swear that everything disappeared around him when he watched you going downstairs, swinging your hips unconsciously sensual, with a black dress fitting you like a glove. If this morning Bucky wanted to marry you, now he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. Your makeup was on point, just like your hair, not being too formal but enough to run him out of words.
“Steve is off-duty, so, what 'you gonna do, soldier?” Sam mocked, an instant before noticing how pale Bucky was. He couldn't help but slap the back of his neck to bring him back to reality.
“I, uh… flowers… I bought you…”
“You're not Yoda”. Sam whispered as the other offered you the present.
“C'mon, stop messing with him”. You clicked your tongue, right before you drew an adorable smile on your lips, leaning to kiss Bucky's cheek. “Thank you”.
“You're welcome”. He just answered, responding to your same gesture while opening the door for you.
“Such a gentleman…” His playful murmur made Bucky frown and nudge him, trying to stop him from saying anything else and ruin the occasion.
“I'll bring him back at ten”. You joked palming his chest.
“The point is to not bring him back to me”. Sam cackled, shaking his head and taking a step back.
Once in the car turning on the engine, James joined the road after checking you were good. Never in his life he had driven with so much care as if he was carrying a bomb by his side. He set on the radio, not really knowing how to start a conversation, watching you through the corners of his eyes caressing the flowers over your lap. No one had bought you them before, thinking it was a thing that only happened in movies. But then, you met Bucky. An old-fashioned man, making yourself wonder how he was the same the news used to say he was a cold-blood assassin.
“What have you thought?”
“Uh?”
“About the date”.
“Sam told me about a rest—”.
“Okay, okay, Bucky. Pull over”. You couldn't help but burst into laughter, as his face was pale again thinking you were about to step out and end the date.
“Sorry, did I…?”
You swiveled at him on your seat, kissing your teeth and squinting inevitably. Studying his face you knew how afraid he was, and it was the most adorable reaction ever. You could have kissed at that precise instant, but it'd have been a little awkward.
“Where do you wanna go?”
The question didn't take him by surprise, actually. He was still getting used to doing the things he desired and not what other people asked him to do. The restaurant was a fancy place with a distinguished menu according to what his friend explained to him, but it wasn't the kind of site that he'd normally go, or that represented him.
“When I, uh… came back, I discovered that my favorite burger joint in Brooklyn was still standing”. Bucky told you, facing you after finishing the sentence. “They prepare the best burgers of the whole New York and you can decide what ingredients add, and the bread, and the kind of meat. And it still having the original decoration”.
You reclined on your seat, just staring at him talking with that kind of burning passion about something he loved. Puckering your lips, you nodded your chin. The fact that not only he wanted to take you to a different place, but a place that he used to go to when he was young made butterflies flutter within your belly. Bucky wanted to make you part of his future, but also his past. That made the difference.
“Sounds good to me”.
“Really?” He inquired funnily confused, wrinkling his nose and forehead.
“Really”.
The shine that appeared within his eyes made you place a hand on his cheek to urge him to turn his head and drive again. An innocent gesture that provoked him a lively giggle. If that man knew all the things he caused you, he'd have taken the step months ago.
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As the night went on and Bucky was losing his shyness, he talked to you about the good old times. Before HYDRA, before the winter, before the war. When he was a kid with no worries more than keeping Steven safe from the bullies. It was nice to disconnect from the present, from the gazes around the two of you, from the back talks, only enjoying your dinner and your conversation. You talked to Bucky about how was to be raised on a farm, surrounded by open fields and animals, to join the army years later. Without going into details that could make him remember the old bad times, you told him about what you used to do, your missions, and how you were wounded in combat after being shot and fell from a helicopter.
Bucky felt confident enough to compare it with how everything started. Falling from a wagon to the snow. But as soon as his voice became lower, you couldn't help but hold his gloved left hand and intertwine your fingers with his. And you could swear you felt him shaking for a brief moment because of your touch.
“So, what, uh? It was a forties trend to jump into the void?” You tried to joke, wanting to feel relaxed.
“Yeah, seems like”. He mumbled curling up his lips. “Listen… I really want to… open up, and I know it’s easier with you because… y’know, you work doing this”.
“Hold on, Bucky”. You laughed waving your free hand, shaking your chin as you closed your eyes for a second. “That has sounded really bad”.
“Wait, wh— Oh, shit, no, no, no”.
For the first time since you walked into the small restaurant, his laughter was lively, unworriedly, honest.
“Take it easy, just kidding”. You grinned, nailing your elbow on the table to rest your cheek on your palm. “But… this isn’t work. We’re not doing therapy, we’re… knowing each other. And I don’t want to pressure you to talk about something you don’t feel prepared to, okay?”
“I know”.
Bucky couldn’t believe how much you seemed to empathize with him, not judging his acts nor his past, not deciding that the date wasn't a good idea nor running away. He couldn’t believe the less importance you were giving to his arm made of vibranium; usually, people used to freak out, to feel frightened somehow about the things it could do. But you were there, fingers playing with the others as if it was the most common and natural act in the world. And, for you, it was. That was you in all your best. Considerate, smart, patient, lovingly. The rainbow after a stormy life. Everything that Bucky needed in his life to start from scratch and be his better version. A shoulder to lean on and a reason to come back home.
“Was afraid of asking you out”. He confessed after some seconds admiring each other. Any person closer would say you had been dating for a long, long time by the way you had to keep silent and not feel uncomfortable.
“Why?”
“You came from war and made your world a place to live. I’m still stuck there”.
“I have my own red flags”. Clicking your tongue, you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, really? Please, surprise me”. Bucky teased you sitting up on his chair, not loosening the gentle grip around your left hand.
“I put the milk before cereals”.
“Oh… Oh, God”. He let out, pretending to be horrified and running a hand on his face. “Goddammit… you’re a monster, ma’am. I don’ think this is going to work”.
“Excuse me?” You chuckled, parting your lips in a breath while leaning over the table to palm his right shoulder. “It wasn’t me who added lettuce to the burger”.
“What? What’s the matter with that, uh?”
“Lettuce kills the savor!”
“Y’know what kills the savor? Ketchup. Today, people use ketchup literally with everything… And that’s disgusting”.
“Okay! Next time, no lettuce, and… no ketchup”.
“That’s a big challenge”. Bucky scoffed tenderly squeezing your hand between his cold fingers.
“I’ll live, Sergeant Barnes”. You narrowed your eyes and crinkled your nose at the same time.
“I was talking about a second date, not about your issue with ketchup”.
“So was I”.
A goofy smirk appeared on Bucky’s face, biting his inner cheek as he assented with his head. Seeing you again, knowing that you wanted it —that you wanted him—, made him trust Dr. Raynor’s words. He was having a second chance to do the right thing. To live and to be.
You wanted to add something else when the clock in his wrist started to beep. Curious, you raised an eyebrow. “We have to leave”.
“Why?”
“Sam told me you work tomorrow at eight, which means you’ll get up at six and a half… maybe seven. While I pay, take you home, all that stuff… I don’ want you to be tired in the morning”.
Bucky would never stop to amaze you, looking up to him in silence to contemplate how he called the bartender and beckoned his free hand to ask for the bill.
“What…? What are you doing?” He chuckled embarrassed, taking his beer to sip.
You cleared your throat when you realized how stupid you should look right now, shaking your head as you freed his cold hand from yours to find unlock your phone as soon as the guy brought the dataphone.
“Hey, no, no. I asked you out, I pay”. Bucky began to fight with you, provoking some laughs on the table as you tried to put your screen above the tpv.
“Well, welcome to the twenty-first century”. You hummed as the operation was confirmed.
“I’ll pay next time”. He declared licking his incisors, prior to his lips.
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You wished the ride back home to last forever, not wanting to end the date. But the car reached your neighborhood in a blink of eyes. You couldn't help but sigh barely appreciably for your companion, gazing through the window until double parking in front of your apartment. You turned towards him, hearing the engine shut off. Bucky seemed disappointed like you, not being able to remember when was the last time he had a break, he had fun. The date was nicer than he expected but the idea of not knowing exactly when he was going to see you again was killing him from the inside.
“I'll accompany you”. He declared undoing his seat belt as you did to step out.
You reacted with a delicate smile, holding the bucket of flowers against your abdomen while walking to the front door of the building. That moment was a little uncomfortable, not being sure about how to say goodbye, just looking like two teens in love.
“Thank you for tonight, Bucky”. You uttered without thinking about it. “It's been the best night I've ever had”.
“Next will be better, I promise”.
“That's a big challenge”. You chuckled repeating his words a while ago in the restaurant.
“I'll live”. He nodded convinced, glancing at you bowing down your interest to the red roses between your hands.
How could you tell him that you were dying to be together again? That you wouldn't mind waking up sooner and having breakfast? You bit your inner upper lip, trying to find the correct words to say, without sounding like you were feeling something else to a physical attraction. Bucky was hot as hell, that wasn't up to debate, but he was the kindest and charmingest man you had known. He was sensible and strong at the same time. You both complemented the other like the pieces of a puzzle and you never thought something like that could happen to you. To find your other half and having it so clear you didn't want anyone else.
“I am, uh… free tomorrow”.
His words pushed you out of your thoughts, putting up your attention to a Bucky almost flushing, stroking the back of his head, and having the impression that he could scare you.
“Got a break for lunch, if you want”. You proposed without hesitation.
His eyes sparkled with happiness, holding your left hand with his to bring it to his mouth, placing a fond kiss on the back. Such a gentleman, like Sam said, inducing your cheeks to burn. And then, you saw him doubting about taking another step. You wanted it too to happen, tho, leaning forward to press your lips together. Your eyes snapped closed at that precise instant, not having any rush, tasting each other's and shortening the distance between both of you by his free arm getting wrapped around your waist. The kiss was innocent but passionate. It was warm, intimate, trying to transmit all the chemistry you woke up within the other with only one look, with only one smile. Breaking it —much to your regret— when you needed air to breathe. And even so, Bucky rested his forehead against yours freeing your hand to place it on the right side of his neck.
Neither of the two of you opened your eyes, extending the moment as much as you could. You felt he craved to spend the night with you, and you desired it too, but you also felt that he needed some time to get used to this new world he was living in. It wasn't easy. You thought back to the months after the war, the recovery, the loneliness you forced yourself to be in. You were in Afghanistan for three months. He had been fighting since nineteen forty. And he didn't want to ruin what you were building together.
“I should leave”. Bucky murmured against his wishes.
“See you tomorrow”.
At the moment you opened your eyes to meet the pale blue ones, your whole body felt weak. You saw the brightness in them after letting him know that the second date was going to happen and that it wasn't just a formality before disappearing, wiping out any minimal doubt by kissing him again. The last kiss. A good night, I'll dream with you kiss.
“I'm gonna play this on your wedding day, definitely”.
You screamed because of the unexpected metallic voice coming closer, clinging to Bucky's neck as his heart raced too. Redwing was suspended in the air some steps away from you, being controlled by Sam. Who else is not him, uh?
“I'm starting to think you have separation anxiety”. The soldier growled trying to hit the flying device with his flesh hand, hearing you laughing against his chest.
“Good night, kids”. You chuckled separating from Bucky.
“No kiss for me, soldier?”
“I'm not gonna kiss that thing, Samuel”.
“What about a howl, White wolf? Would be very appro—”.
“White wo—”.
“Please, don't. Don't ask”. Bucky begged you, licking his bottom lip while rubbing the back of his head, clearly ashamed.
“Hope you show me one day what it means…”
“Oh, he will… Just wait till the full moon”.
“Sam!” Bucky and you yelled in unison, you playfully, he annoyed.
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cyndavilachase · 4 years
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I’m Looking Forward Now 💖Thank you and good bye
So, it’s been a little over a week since Steven Universe Future ended… 
I’ve been hesitant to write this, honestly, but I’m tired of holding myself back from properly expressing myself in fear of appearing overly invested in the media I consume, even in private. Writing helps me organize my thoughts and feelings, and I feel like these thoughts in particular may resonate with many, so I want to share them. I want to talk about what Steven Universe has done for me personally, both as an artist, and as a person.
I’ve been around since the day the first episode of the original series aired. I actually remember when Steven Universe was just a logo on Wikipedia’s “List of Upcoming Cartoon Network Shows” list, back when I was a freshman in high school. It piqued my interest, but when commercials finally dropped for it, I thought it was going to be bad because of the way marketing handled introducing Steven as a likeable character. There was still something about it that made me want to give it a chance though, so I went online and watched the pilot before the first episode's release. I was hooked immediately. I knew I was going to love it, and I did. I fell so absolutely in love with Steven as a character, and the world that he and the gems lived in. I became obsessed. I was always so excited for new episodes to come out. Little did I know what else it would do for me as I went through my adolescence alongside it.
As the show progressed, it was evident that what I wanted out of a western animated childrens’ cartoon was finally coming into fruition: this show was becoming serialized. There was continuity, there was plot, there was character development-- it was getting deep. It was pushing the groundwork that Adventure Time laid out even further (thank you, Adventure Time).  
I will give credit where credit is due: earlier western childrens’ cartoons I grew up with like Hey Arnold, and Rugrats, among others, also touched on heavy topics, but Steven Universe was able to take similar ideas (and even more complex ones, concerning mental health and relationships) and expand on them outside of contained episodes and/or short arcs. These themes, which were a part of the show’s overarching story, spanned across its entirety. Continuity was rampant. 
What did this mean? It meant kids cartoons didn’t have to be silly and fun all the time and characters weren’t just actors playing a part in 11-minute skits. Steven and the gems would remember things that happened to them, and it affected them and how they would function and play a part in their story. This was a huge deal to me as a teenager. I always wanted the cartoons I grew up with featuring kid characters to feel more. In my own work, I often felt discouraged when combining a fun, cutesy western art style with themes as dark or layered as anime would cover. I always thought it had to be one or the other because an audience wouldn’t take a combination of the two seriously enough, based on discussions I had with classmates, friends, and online analysis I read at the time. Steven Universe proved to me otherwise. This show was opening the door for future cartoons exploring in-depth, adult concepts. I felt so seen as a kid, and was inspired to stick with what I love doing.
I was actually very worried about the show’s survival. It was in fact immensely underrated and the fandom was miniscule. Then in 2014, JailBreak dropped, and it’s popularity exploded. Part of it was because of the complex plot and the themes it was covering like I mentioned, but also because of its representation. 
I remember when fandom theorized that Garnet was a fusion due to grand, tragic reasons. Turns out, she’s simply a metaphor for a very loving w|w relationship. This was huge. I cannot stress how important it is that we continue to normalize healthy canon queer relationships in childens’ media, and Steven Universe finally was the first to do that proper. Introducing these themes offers the chance for a kid to sit there and ask themselves, “Why is this demonized by so many people?” I asked myself exactly that. Ruby and Sapphire were my cartoon LGBT rep. They were the first LGBT couple I ever ecstatically drew fanart of. I was dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia at the time, and they showed me that I was allowed to love women and feel normal about it. The process of overcoming this was a long one, but they played a part in my very first steps into becoming comfortable with my sexuality. I could go on and on about it’s representation in general-- how it breaks the mold when it comes to showcasing a diverse set of characters in design, in casting, and in breaking gender roles. It’s focus on love and empathy. Steven himself is a big boy, but he's the protagonist, and the show never once makes fun of his weight, or any other bigger characters for that matter. It wasn’t hard to see why the fandom had grown so large.
Fandom was always a joy for me. It was a hobby I picked up when I was in middle school, like many of us here did. I would always cater my experience to fun, and fun only. I only started getting more deeply involved in SU’s fandom when I had just turned into an adult. During the summer of 2016, between my first and second year of college, I drew for the show almost every day non-stop when the Summer of Steven event was going on and posted them online. This was a form of practice for me in order to become not just more comfortable with experimenting with my art, but also to meet new artists, make new friends, and learn to interact with strangers without fear. I dealt with a ton of anxiety when I was in high school. When I was a senior applying to art school for animation, I decided I was going to overcome that anxiety. I made plans to take baby steps to improve myself over the course of my 4 years of college. Joining the fandom, while unforeseen, was definitely a part of that process. I started feeling more confident in sharing my ideas, even if they were fan-made. I fell in love with storyboarding after that summer, when I took my first storyboarding class, and genuinely felt like I was actually getting somewhere with all of this. I remember finally coming to a point in my classes where I could pitch and not feel hopelessly insecure about it. I was opening up more to my friends and peers. 
But this process, unfortunately, came to a screeching halt. 
My life completely, utterly crumbled under me in the Fall of 2017 due to a series of blows in my personal life that happened in the span of just a couple weeks. My mental health and sense of identity were completely destroyed. All of that confidence I had worked for-- completely ruined. I was alone. I nearly died. My stay at college was extended to 4 and half years, instead of the 4 I had intended. I lost my love for animation-- making it, and watching it. I could no longer watch Steven Universe with the same love I had for it beforehand. It’s a terrible thing, trying to give your attention to something you don’t love anymore, and wanting so desperately to love again. I dropped so many things I loved in my life, including the fandom.
Healing was a long and complicated road. I continued to watch the show all the way up until Change Your Mind aired in the beginning of 2019, and while I still felt empty, that was definitely a turning point for me with it’s encapsulation of self-love. I was hoping James Baxter would get to work on Steven Universe since he guest-animated on Adventure Time, and it was incredible seeing that wish actually come true. The movie came out and while I enjoyed it and thought highly of it, I was still having issues letting myself genuinely love things again, old and new. It was especially difficult because cartoons were my solace as a kid, when things got rough at home. I remember feeling sad because the show ended, and not getting the chance to love it again like I used to while it was still going.
By the time Steven Universe Future was announced, I was finally coming around. I was genuinely starting to feel excitement for art and animation again. I wasn’t expecting there to be a whole new epilogue series, but happily ever after, there we were! Prickly Pear aired, and the implications it left in terms of where the story was going did it. I was finally ready to let myself take the dive back into fandom in January of this year. My art blew up, something I wasn’t expecting considering my 2-year hiatus. Following this, I was invited into a discord server containing some of the biggest writers, artists, editors, and analysts in the fandom. I had no idea there were so many talented people in the fandom, some already with degrees, some getting their degrees-- creating stuff for it on the side just for fun. The amount of passion and productivity level here is insane, and so is the amount of discussion that has come out of it.
I didn’t realize it at first, but it was actually helping me gain back the courage to share ideas. I lost my confidence in pitching while I was taking the time to heal, and graduating meant there would no longer be a classroom setting I could practice in. This group helped immensely. 
I have made so many friends through this wonderful series, and I have so many fond memories talking to like-minded creatives, getting feedback and a myriad of sources for inspiration, as well as all of the memes and jokes and weekly theorizations that came about as we all waited on the edges of our seats for episodes to air. I needed this so badly, I needed to get back in touch with my roots, when I would go absolutely hog-wild over a cartoon I loved with people who loved it as much I did. Future has been a blessing for me in this way. I graduated feeling like I was back at square-one, but now I feel like I’m on my way again.
It’s 2020 and while I’m doing great right now, I am honestly still recovering from the total exhaustion that followed after graduating a few months ago, and finally leaving the campus where my life fell apart behind. Needless to say, watching Future was like looking into a mirror. Watching one of my favorite characters of all time-- one that grew up with me-- go through so many of the same things I went through not too long ago was absolutely insane to watch unfold. It’s such an important thing too, to show a character go through the process of breaking down over trauma and all the nasty things that come with it, and to have them go on the road to healing. Steven got that therapy. He wasn’t blamed. The gems were called out. The finale was everything I could have ever hoped for. The catharsis I experienced watching it was out of this world.
As I continue my own healing journey, I will always look up to the storyboard artists, revisionists, and designers that I have been following over these past 7 years, as well as the new ones introduced in Future. It's been such a joy watching these artists release their promo art for episodes, talk about their experiences working on the show, and post the work they've done for it alongside episodes airing.
Thank you Rebecca Sugar, the Crewniverse, and the fans, for making this such a truly wonderful and unique experience. Thank you for reminding me that I am, and always will be, an artist, a cartoonist, and a fan. Thank you, my followers, for the overwhelmingly positive response to my artwork. I have had so much fun interacting and discussing the show with you all again over these past few months. Steven Universe and it’s fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and it will always be a classic that I will return to for comfort and inspiration for decades to come. I am sad that the cartoon renaissance is over, but so many doors have been opened thanks to this show. I am so, so excited to see what this show will inspire in the future, and I hope one day I get the opportunity to be a part of that. 
Goodbye Steven, thank you for everything. I wish you healing, and I wish Rebecca and the team a well-deserved rest. ♥️
-Cynthia D.
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itsallyscorner · 3 years
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I don’t know if it’s too much to ask, but when you’re done with all your requests, can you please do a part 2 of getting to know you?❤️
Hello darling!💕 Thank you for the request and I’m so sorry it took me so long; I was waiting for Cherry to come out to write this and I also have time to finally write. I hope you like it!💕 *CHERRY SPOLIERS*
A/n: Hello my loves! I just wanted to say that these kind of fics are the closest I will get to writing for Cherry. I will not be writing about the characters in the story, I will only be writing about the filming process, working with Tom, etc. Now that I mentioned that, I wanted to let you all know that this is going to be a bit more of a happier fic! I see a lot of people writing about the hard parts of filming Cherry so I thought why not have a little fun one? I’m sure they had some laughs on set, I briefly remember Ciara and Tom mentioning it. But yeah that’s all, enjoy the fic! Ally xx
💌.
I’m Really Happy You’re Here
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(GIF @thollandgifs )
Tom watched you from a distance. From where he was, he could hear the sound of your bubbly laugh and see that bright smile on your face. Your smile was contagious. The way your eyes crinkled at the ends and how your smile squished into your cheeks was something he’s grown fond of over the past eight weeks. Though the difference from the previous weeks was that your cheeks were fuller and the bleak expressions of Emily did not shadow your face anymore.
The last eight weeks of filming have been rough. Both on you and him, along with the rest of the cast and crew. Having to begin filming with the ‘Dope Life’ section of the movie was not a pleasant way of starting a months long project. He felt drained after every shoot, spending his time on set crying, kicking, and screaming. Not to mention he was also starving himself to enhance the ‘druggy’ look on his features. After those eight weeks they had to transition into the part of Cherry’s life where he’s falling in love with Emily. The transition from being an addict to becoming a lovesick college student was a tricky one for Tom. The sudden switch in the film’s dynamic, made Tom doubt himself. From the intense scenes and screaming to being all loving and sweet, he was self-conscious that he was not doing enough. Though you were quick to debunk his doubts. You kept your promise of being there for him and gave him the freedom to be vulnerable. You didn’t judge him, you listened to him ramble and understood the struggles he was facing. Because of this, you helped him through the transition of druggy to lovesick college student. 
It wasn’t hard to act like he was falling in love you. You have been so supportive and patient with him during the previous weeks that he’s grown to adore you. On and off set you made sure he knew you were not only his co-worker but his friend. When he had a rough day, you were there to pick him up. Or that one time when he had a bit of a panic attack and you were instantly by his side to guide him out of it. There were many reasons as to why you are so dear to him, he could have gone on for days listing them. But overall, it was your lovable nature that lured him in since the very beginning he’s met you.
He felt like Cherry in that one scene you guys shot in the classroom. The one where he’s gazing at Emily and admiring her features. Except you didn’t stare back at him, instead you were having a very animated conversation with your makeup artist and one of the stylists. You were dressed in Emily’s clothes, white stockings, a jean skirt, and that cherry pink jacket with flowers embroidered onto it. He thought you looked so adorable and carefree kicking around leaves with your brown ankle boots and playfully swinging your arms around. Tom felt his lips unconsciously twitch upwards at the sight of you.
Harry, who had been eyeing his older brother, nudged him roughly. Tom whips around to look at him, sending him a glare for rudely interrupting his train of thought.
“What?” Tom hissed.
Harry smirked, motioning to you, “(Y/n) looks really pretty today.” Tom distinctly squints an eye at Harry before looking over his shoulder. The glare for his brother softening once you come into view.
“I mean, doesn’t she always? She’s a beautiful woman.”
“And you’re absolutely whipped.” Harry remarked with a smug grin on his face.
“So I can’t call someone beautiful without being absolutely whipped for them now?” Tom retorted crossing his arms. Harry raised his hands up defensively, “You can mate, chill. I’m just saying that because you’re literally staring at her with a stupid love haze in your eyes.”
“No I’m not.” Tom scoffed, hoping to get his brother off his case. Harry stared at him blankly and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, they want you on your mark.”
The filming location was a secluded park located somewhere in Cleveland. The park was set up to appear as a cemetery, gray gravestones were placed on the ground and gothic statues scattered the place. The scene was supposed to be a meaningful one for Cherry and Emily. Emily was going to be telling Cherry about her abusive father and he was going to tell her he loved her.
Tom sat on the grass and leaned against the stone statue where his mark was located. He looked around his surroundings in curiosity. A few feet away from him was the crew, the Russos, and a tent that sheltered the monitors. He breathed in, wallowing in the crisp air of Cleveland’s autumn weather. It was a bit chilly, but not to the point where you were shivering and left with chattering teeth. The vintage looking jacket he was given and the black beanie on his head was enough to keep him warm. His eyes continued to wander around the park, shifting along the trees and studying the clusters of yellow and orange.
“Hey you.” Your gentle voice breaks through the quiet murmurs of nature and the crew surrounding him. Tom’s eyes instantly set themselves upon your figure, their focus on you and only you. The trees and cameras behind you faded in the background. His gaze followed your figure as you moved to sit beside him.
“Hey.” His voice is soft making you hum in response. Being the gentleman he was, Tom held out his hand to help you sit on the ground. You quietly thank him. He watches as you rest your head against the stone and shut your eyes.
“Still sleepy?” He chuckles nudging your shoulder. You giggle along, lazily nodding. Your eyes open again and he’s met with your stunning (eye color) orbs. They were bright and filled with joy even though you were clearly tired.
You turn your head to the side to face him, “I barely got any sleep last night.”
Tom’s brows drew together in concern, “Why didn’t you get any sleep?”
“I may or may not have watched The Nun by myself last night.” You cringed. Tom let out a dramatic gasp, “Darling, why would you do that to yourself?”
“I was bored and I couldn’t find anything else to watch. I thought watching a horror movie would be a good idea, but I was wrong.” You explained, shaking your head at yourself. You breathed out a laugh, remembering how terrified you were the night before.
Tom joined you, also shaking his head. “Why didn’t you ask Harry and I to join? We could’ve watched it for movie night. Then you wouldn’t have to be alone and you’d have two body guards to protect you from the scary nun.” He teased you poking your side. You squeaked and swatted his finger away.
“You guys were going out for dinner. I thought you might want to have some quality time with your brother.” You stifled a yawn, your nose scrunching after, making Tom pout at your sleepy state. He glanced in front of him to see everyone still occupied in side conversations. The Russos were haunched behind the tent discussing things about the scene.
Tom turns back to you and motions to his lap. You give him a questioning look. You glance at his lap, not completely understanding him. Tom followed your stare, realizing that you were probably getting the wrong message.
“Oh! No—I meant that you could sleep on my lap or something. I don’t think we’re gonna start filming for a few more minutes, so I thought you might want to squeeze in a little nap.” He explained, words jumbling together in panic. Your heart swelled at how sweet Tom was.
The two of you were silent, staring at each other before bursting out in laughter. Tom squeezed his eyes shut, fingers holding his temples, “God, I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.”
You chuckled resting your head on his shoulder, “It’s okay, you had good intentions.” When your laughs die down, you look up at him. “Does your offer for the nap still stand? I think I can use it.”
“Of course it does.” Tom shifts so there’s space on his thigh for you to rest your head on. He helps you lay down, fixing your hair so it’s not in your face. He leaves a hand to play with the strands, mesmerized at how luscious it was. He notices that he’s probably invading your space and pulls his hand away, apologizing.
You make a noise of disagreement, pulling his hand back. “It’s ok, feels nice.” You mumble, eyes closing and a content expression on your face. Tom played with your hair; being careful to not tangle any strands or pull on them too hard. He couldn’t help but study your features. To name a few, he took the time to memorize the way your lashes brushed against your cheeks, the shape of your nose, and the curve of your lips. Your lips. They looked remarkably soft and had a tint of pink to them. Tom found his eyes flickering down at your lips the most than your other features.
He was so caught up in admiring you that he didn’t notice the words coming out of his mouth.
“I’m really happy you’re here.”
Your eyes snap open dancing with amusement. A toothy grin forms on your mouth.
“Did you just quote the movie?” You question him, referring to the previous scene you were both shooting a couple of days ago. Tom becomes flustered, the blood rushing to his fair cheeks.
“Yes, shut up.” He muttered, bouncing his thigh, causing your head to loll to the side. You giggle elbowing his stomach. “Well were you practicing your lines? ‘Cause they’re for the wrong scene, Tommy.” You tease him.
Tom playfully rolls his eyes and looks down at you. His hands were still tangled in your hair, the soft strands like silk in between his fingers. “No, I know that—but I’m serious. I’m really happy you’re here with me. I know I’ve told you this so many times but I can’t imagine filming this movie with anyone else. And you’ve been so loyal and trusting, I feel so comfortable with you. You’ve always had my back and I’m really thankful for that. So thank you for—being you.”
You give him a lopsided grin, “You know, you don’t have to always thank me. We made a promise to always have each other’s back. I’m one to keep my word but at the same time you’re my friend, Tom. I’m not being nice to fulfill a promise, I genuinely care about you.” Tom beams while you continue.
“It honestly goes both ways, I should also be thanking you. The beginning of filming was very taxing and somehow you’ve made it bearable for me to come into work not worrying about losing my shit on everyone. So thank you, Tom.” You finish, reaching out to interlock your fingers with his free hand.
Tom sighs happily, “I guess we’re just happy to have each other, huh?”
“Yeah.” You agree, eyes trained on the way his giant hand enveloped yours. A peaceful silence lays upon the both of you. The melody of birds chirping and the sound of Tom’s breathing fill the air as you drift off to sleep.
Bonus:
Tom feels your hand loosen in his grip, your interlocked fingers resting on your stomach. He felt your stomach steadily raising up and down to the pace of your breathing. His hands remained where they were; one playing with your hair and the other holding one of your hands.
Joe approaches the both of you, gesturing to the position you and Tom were in. Though you were unaware, napping on Tom’s lap.
“Is this how you guys want to film the scene? We were gonna have you sitting beside each other instead.” Joe stood above you and Tom with his hands on his hips.
“I think this is actually better—don’t get me wrong, sitting beside each other and cuddling is pretty affectionate. But I think having someone rest their head on your lap is another level of intimacy.” Tom reasoned. He wanted to extend the amount of time you could ‘nap’ but he also thought the scene would be much better if your head was cradled on his lap. Personally, he believed it would show the audience how comfortable Cherry and Emily were with each other.
Joe nods his head, “Yeah, I get what you mean. I think I like that better, to be honest. What do you think, (Y/n)? Is Tom’s lap comfortable enough for you to shoot a few scenes on?” Joe asks, teasing you towards the end. He’s met with no response. He raises a brow at you, “Is she asleep?”
“Yup, long night.” Tom chuckled, running his hand through your hair soothingly.
Joe chuckles as well, “Is she all good though?”
“Oh, she’s fine. She just watched The Nun by herself and couldn’t catch any sleep after.” Tom reassured him.
“Ahh, alright.” Joe snickers, moving to make his way back to the crew. “She’s got a good 10 to 15 minutes to squeeze in a nap, monitors are acting up.”
“Gotcha’ boss.” Tom mentally notes, resuming to bask in the nature around him and your presence.
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dolliedarlin · 3 years
Text
i m p l i c i t  ⏤katsuki b.
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p a i r i n g : bakugou x f.reader 
s u m m a r y : ever since you were young, you were forced to meet with the person dubbed as your finance, Katsuki Bakugou, a Baron’s son who had quite the temper but peaks your interest in every way possible 
l e n g t h : 1.9k
g e n r e : olden days au ; fantasy au ; arranged marriage au ; Bakugou is a tsundere ; and we love him for it ; reader is an amazing bean that can keep up with him ; kirishima is your brother ; best brother ever ; rumours are toxic ; never base your opinions on someone solely on rumours ; you attract a stalker ; it’s not your fault ; he just as a twisted yandere mind ; Katsuki is your hero ; he makes your heart flutter ; and he makes your knees weak ; i really want someone to protect me and say what he said at the end of this 
w a r n i n g s : swearing from our lovable explosion murder king ; acts of stalker/yandere ; sword fighting
a / n : i didn’t plan on posting this but mother nature decided to pay me a visit today so i basically lazed around in my bed groaning in pain and half starving bc it was too painful to get out at times for food. instead i started writing this imagine again that i had began months ago. this is inspired by Ranma 1/2, which is an anime that i loved watching when i was much younger, it’s not well edited because i’m kinda dizzy rn but i hope you enjoy it! 
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— first of all, before either you or Katsuki were born, the arrangement for your marriage to each other was already settled by your parents, hence why you were immediately introduced when you were children 
— neither of you knew what marriage or engagement meant but you both associated it with seeing each other
— it wasn’t something Katsuki liked but you didn’t quite mind it, he always gave you really interesting reactions that you quickly came to like
— as the two of you grew up together, you always tried your best to get close to him but Katsuki was adamant at pushing you away and keeping you at arms length at all times
— despite all that, you wanted to catch his attention, which meant that you took interest in all the things that he found interesting too. that included: sword fighting, horse riding, duelling ; spicy foods ; battle tactics ; magic etc 
— Katsuki always tried to ignore you but secretly appreciated how skilled you had become over the years. you were still nothing compared to him but you were able to battle against a majority of qualified knights and still be the last one standing
— he only scoffed at you because your talents were wasted; you’re too kindhearted to ever use your honed skills properly - it irritates him that other women push you to conform to etiquette, tea parties and high society when you were better than that
— you’re better than shallow conversations about the latest fashion, or the art of sipping tea, calligraphy and painting because he knows how much you train and how much effort you put into your education outside of such insignificant things
— Katsuki knows that you can handle yourself better than any other nobleman he knows of, he’s seen you help your father with his business and vigorously train with your dukedom’s knights
— what’s the point of all that effort if you weren’t going to show anything for it?
— because of that Katsuki always acted like he hated having you as his fiancée despite your optimism about him, as well as your patience and understanding of his unique way of expressing himself
— because the two of you are forced to spend a lot of time together by your parents, you’ve has been able to understand Katsuki and his mannerisms better than anyone else as your mother has always taught you to be openminded - she’s never been like the other noble ladies of society, hence why your father married her
— now, you were following in her footsteps. there’s been much gossip about your unladylike behaviour but you didn’t care, all you needed were your parents’ love and the love of Katsuki. he still needed some more time to come around but you’re positive you’ll get to him soon enough
— you’re positive there’s a different gleam in his eyes whenever he looks towards you now. it had always been one of hatred when you were much younger but his expressions frequently soften around you nowadays. 
— no matter how subtle it may be, you always notice
— many rumours circulated about you the first time you had shown your skills openly amongst the knighthood. it had first started with your knights who praised you highly but, as soon as those whisperings reached outside the dukedom, many noble ladies started to gossip about your misdemeanour. 
— surprisingly, those rumours were shut down in under a week and you didn’t know why; usually such good gossip material stayed for months and only faded with the years so it was peculiar to have it die down so quickly 
— what was suspicious was that, as soon as your rumours died down, stories about Katsuki surged forward.
— when you conversed with other people, they would say how horrible they feel for you having to marry such an aggressive and dislikable fiancee. they would then over-exaggerate all the belligerent and misunderstood characteristics of Bakugou, even making up disgusting rumours that painted him to be more villainous than he actually was.
— “how shameful,” you spat with disgust, glowering down at the noble ladies frozen in their seats, “how dare you openly gossip about my fiancee right in front of me, the nerve! you should know better than to act like such children. if you have nothing better to do then i suggest you leave the kirishima estate immediately and never expect to be invited back,” 
— they tried to beg you for forgiveness, seeing as your father held such power in high society, being one of the four noble dukes of the kingdom serving directly under the king as they all had noble blood. 
— nobody expected your father to marry you to a Baron’s son. Katsuki didn’t have a higher title than you but your fathers had gone to war together and remained loyal friends ever since, Baron Bakugou went on to acquire his title of Braon after his service in the war but many people still looked down on him from his commoner origins. to think that such educated ladies of high society would use that as leverage to gossip however they wished. 
— word of your actions on behalf of Bakugou spread quickly and the two of you became a couple that shouldn’t be trifled with.   
— after that day, you always defend Katsuki and never miss the opportunity to express how much you admire him and care for him even if he doesn’t tend to reciprocate it
— you do this when Katsuki’s friends make an appearance, they consisted of your brother, Eijiro, Denki of house Kaminari (son of Marquis Kaminari) and Hanta of house Sero (son of Marquis Sero). 
— they usually don’t visit the estate but this time they decided to utilise the knights training grounds for extra duelling practice and happened to catch you just as you were walking out, having finished your own training
— as soon as introductions and polite greetings were exchanged, came the jokes and jives.
— “I wouldn’t blame you if you eloped with someone else on your wedding day, Lady (Y/N), knowing this guy’s attitude,” Denki snickers as he points his thumb at your fiancé, who growled lowly in return.
— “i wouldn’t dare do something like that because, even if this is an arranged marriage, Katsuki will be the only man for me” Katsuki didn’t expect you to be so forward and couldn’t help the blush that coated his cheeks from your response 
— Denki whistled in a mix of astonishment and amusement, “Katsuki’s a lucky guy!” 
— “he looks really happy to hear you say that too, sis,” Eijiro teased as Hanta grinned from beside him. 
— “shut up! we came here to train so let's train already, you dumbasses!”
— the days go by and life is good; the quicker your wedding day approaches the kinder and gentler Katsuki treats you. it wasn’t until the kindness you practiced with everyone you met, no matter their status, became something more in the twisted mind of an unknown individual that you encountered within city streets, while out shopping
— one act of kindness made the stranger crave for your touch and sought you out in the most deviant method. he sent constant letters multiple times a day and even mailed one with his most intimate item of clothing, not only that but he always stood at the gates of your estate, waiting for it to be opened just to slip in and try to meet you again
— of course, he didn’t get far because of the security brought on by your dukedom’s talented knights stopped him at every devious attempt. each incident was reported directly to your brother, who was training to inherit the duchy as soon as your father retired
— Eijiro was having none of it and devised the best plan of action he could, knowing that his image as the heir of the dukedom needed to be thought of so that his people wouldn’t be against him when he took over his capable father’s place. he resisted the urge for an immediate confrontation to plan with you, about how you wanted to defuse the situation 
— however, as soon as word got to Bakugou, he ran over on foot to confront the man at your estate, just as Eijiro came down with a squadron of knights and you at his side
— lost in his own world, your stalker immediately reached out for you the instant he caught sight of your figure. on his face, he had a twisted smile and manic eyes, his breathing became heavy as if to savour the same air you breathed not too far away from him. it was frighting and chilling to see such an unhinged man. he was so deranged, he didn’t mind the swords and pointed glares directed at him by all that were present and Katsuki, who was fast approaching from behind
— “Get. Away. From. Her!” Katsuki shouted in anger as he drew his sword and slashed at the young man, making you jump back with a gasp.
— “Bakugou!” Kirishima warned as he pulled you into his chest for protection from the clashing of swords
— “Katsuki, be careful!” you cried. confronting someone with such an unstable mind could go horribly wrong and no matter how skilled your fiancee was, you couldn’t help but worry
— Even though this was the first time Katsuki ever showed his feelings for you in such a dramatic gesture, the worry you had for him consumed your joy as his opponent drew out his own sword and started lashing out with worse coordination than your junior knights. 
— what he lacked with technique, however, he made up for in agility as well as his own unpredictability. it made it hard for Katsuki to predict the path of his opponent’s sword so for a time, he was constantly dodging his blade. it didn’t take long, however, for the game of endurance and stamina to come into play and slow down his opponent enough for him to fight back with more accuracy.
— “you revolting rat!” Katsuki growled swinging his sword with might only to grind his teeth when his sword is narrowly dodged. not one to give up, however, he goes in once again and finally lands a hit that forces your stalker to crumble to his knees, “you try and pull that shit with (Y/N) again and I’ll be doing more than just beating you to the ground,” it was an obvious win for the blonde. 
— “And what would that be?” your stalker still had fight in him that came off as more irritating than anything else Bakugou had ever encountered in his life of servitude as a royal knight and baron’s son.
— just to prove his point, whatever it may be, Katsuki goes to stand beside you and pull you into his chest with his large hand at your waist   
— “landing your ugly, disgusting ass in a fucking coffin!” the venom in his voice was evident and it made you shudder, curling up into his chest for comfort, not knowing that the next words he’d shout would have your knees weaker than any training could ever do, “(Y/N) is MY Fiancee! you touch her and I’ll kill you!”
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n a v i . | bnha mlist 
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Text
Hearts Painted on Skin
Written for @damianwayneweek's Day 4. I selected Soulmates for this. I've never written a soulmate AU before, so this was fun to explore. Thanks @audreycritter for the idea! She flooded me with ideas for this week and I am so thankful for them all.
Characters: Damian and Dick
Summary: Damian has a mark just under his collarbone in the shape of a feather. Mother has always told him it was a scar. He was mostly okay with that until he came to Gotham and saw more marks. Marks that could not possibly be scars. He is starting to wonder if she lied, and why.
AO3 Link
~
Damian looked in the mirror, his shirt in his hands, prepared to pull on. For what felt like the thousandth time, he paused to look at the little mark on his skin. It was a feather, unmistakably. Damian had held enough up to it for comparison, whenever he could get his hands on one.
“It is a scar.” Mother’s voice echoed in his head.
It was a statement she’d told him time and time again. Each moment he brought it up. Every moment he looked at a League member who had a darker patch on their cheek, or wrist. Whenever his eyes lingered on flowers and swirls and shapes painted on fingers, arms, feet, and one time an eyelid. She would lean down, her voice soft, promising, full of truth, hard as law, and whisper those four words. It. Is. A. Scar.
“But others have similar.” Damian had asked once.
“Of course they do, they are fighters as well.” she had told him.
Damian believed her. Why would she lie? What reason had she to speak falsely about such a thing?
And yet.
He dropped half of the shirt to run his fingers over it, it was smooth as the skin underneath. It was skin, just of a darker color. A warm chocolate to his tan. It was not raised, not pinched. Nothing about it was creased or seemed to be anything but natural. As if it had always been there.
“But I do not remember getting it.” he had said again, in response to her once.
“You received it when you were young. A baby.”
He had furrowed his brow. Who would harm a baby? Even in the League? Especially Talia’s child? She’d never told him.
Damian tugged his shirt on, covering the spot with soft cotton and a bright pattern of animal silhouettes that somehow did not look childish. He ran his hand over the fabric, again pausing by the not-scar. His eyes flit to his dresser. In the drawer rested a bottle of concealer, matched to his skin tone exactly. It was empty now, used up and he had yet to replace it.
Normally, Damian would cover his not-scar with it. Careful layers blended to hide the fact that anything blemished his skin. It was a dangerous mark. Made when he was a baby, and carrying a weight on it that Mother insisted would draw catastrophe to him if it were seen.
He had complained about the concealer once, hating the time it took to apply and how it made his skin feel itchy sometimes.
Mother had run her fingers through his hair, gentle and loving, “I know, dear, but it is not safe to bring attention to. If others learned of it--you would be in danger.” She had even gone so far as to insist Damian not tell Grandfather.
It was a dangerous secret so terrifying the leader of the League of Assassins could not know. One Damian had to protect him from. At least, that was what Damian had thought then. Now, he wondered if Mother was protecting him from Grandfather.
He tugged on his shirt, testing the collar, even stretched it hid his mark with ease. No one would see it today. Perhaps his new concealer would arrive soon. Pennyworth had approved the order, as something useful to help them hide their identities better. Bruises from patrol were hard to explain, especially when Richard was under scrutiny for caring for him.
A knock immediately preceded, “Damian? You ready?”
Damian turned and nodded at Richard, “Yes, I believe I am.”
He looked over his brother, searching his skin for anything like Damian’s own mark, but beyond real scars, Richard was unblemished.
His brother, and guardian, smiled at him, “Great, let’s go! It’s a beautiful day and I promised you some ducks.”
Damian allowed a smile, “Yes you did.”
They spent the day at one of Gotham’s parks. Richard said they were doing recon to determine if Wayne Enterprise should fund a beautification project, but Damian was well aware his brother was using this as a day of relaxation. He was taking the day off work, and Damian had been excused from classwork for the outing.
He’d intended to take the recon seriously, by marking down elements both in favor of, and against selecting this park as the location for beautification funds. And for a little while Damian had. Then he’d flipped to a blank page in his notebook and started sketching the scene ahead of them.
Beside him, Richard lounged on their picnic blanket, reading what looked to be a romance book, and picking at grapes Pennyworth had packed for them. Normally, Damian would take the opportunity to berate him for laziness, but they had faced a number of difficult patrols over the past few nights and Damian was inclined to let him have his break.
Richard consistently drilled into him the importance of caring for one’s body all the time, mentally and physically. Damian knew this day would make Batman safer in the field, and also--he was kind of enjoying the quiet time. It was new to him, learning to relax and feel safe outside of the very few places he’d had at the League, but he could see the appeal to it. It did help keep him sharp, and he was always better rested after.
So he focused on on relaxing. He sketched for a while, drawing the pond first, and the trees around it. Then flipping the page to work on his figure drawing. As he drew, Damian’s eyes caught on marks. On birthmarks, and scars, and tattoos. Most importantly, his eyes locked onto various not-scars. Which is what they had to be.
He doodled them on another sheet. Drawing each unique one. Even those that were similar in style usually had little differences. A star might have one arm longer than the other, while one was perfect.
The only time he saw two of them match perfectly were on a couple pushing a stroller. The couple had little numbers on the back of their hands, one on their left, the other on the right. Damian pressed his lips together. They could have been tattoos, many people had them, but Damian couldn’t help but wonder.
He had been wondering since he’d arrived in Gotham months ago. People here all had marks. They had marks and they showed them off. Confused, Damian had messaged his mother to ask her. She’d said they were scars, tattoos, birthmarks that were meaningless. They were the marks of a different type of people than Damian had been raised around.
Distance had a way of stripping his mother’s voice of it’s old comforting truth.
But he had been busy learning. There was so much to learn in Gotham that had nothing to do with the mark on his body. Damian had spent more time frustrated about rules, and fearing he’d be sent back to a place that felt less and less like home every day. More and more time learning to be a good Robin to his Batman, and learning to trust Richard.
The question of his mark was rarely on Damian’s mind, and mostly relegated to moments he was alone or like this.
He glanced over at Richard. The man was still immersed in his book and Damian’s question died on his lips. He flipped his book to a new page and focused back on the pond, specifically the ducks swimming around on it. He had, after all, been promised some ducks.
That night they returned to patrol. Damian almost suggested they take a break, but they’d been working a drug trafficking case over the course of the week and were close to wrapping it up. If all went well during this patrol then they could rest. Damian would insist upon it if Richard did not.
They staked out an old appliance store. Richard figured the drugs were being shipped out either in the appliances or the crates. They just needed to intercept a shipment, incapacitate the team working on it, and confirm the drugs were there. Then they could call in Gordon and be done with all this.
Batman and Robin were crouched together. Richard had declared that they should stick close tonight. Damian wondered if it was because he knew they both were still feeling a little worn down. He could read it in Richard’s body language, and he knew his mentor could read the same in his.
After around twenty or so minutes, a truck pulled up to the building and the shipping door opened to allow it to back in. They watched for a moment, confirming no other trucks were on their way, and then both pulled back from the edge of the roof they’d been peering over.
Richard pointed to a large vent they could drop in on the store from. Damian nodded, and followed his mentor. The slipped into the vents, then moved like mice over to where the shipping area was located. Damian paused behind Richard as the man peered through an exhaust vent to watch the proceedings below.
“They’ve started unloading.” he whispered, then tapped something on his cowl and was silent for another long moment, “And they’re talking about the drugs.”
“So we go?” Damian asked.
“I’d say so.” Richard said, “Stick close tonight Robin, I’ve seen a couple guns swinging around and I don’t want to explain a bullet wound to Al tonight.”
“The same goes for you.” Damian responded.
“There’s twelve by my count, two of those are still in the car. Try to get to them first. I’ll grab the guys with the guns,” Richard directed.
“Affirmative.” Damian agreed. Taking out the ones that could remove the product, and the ones that were the most dangerous first was a good idea.
With that, Richard kicked out the vent, tossed a handful of gas pellets, and they dropped into the smoke.
Damian bolted through it for the truck. He was able to easily dodge the men and women in the room, now sent into a flurry of action and confusion over the smoke. He ducked around the driver’s seat of the truck and yanked the door open.
The man inside was shocked, and Damian was able to use that element of surprise to yank the man out of the front, sending him tumbling to the ground. A few quick blows had him unconscious.
Damian straightened, and turned back towards the truck cab. His eyes went wide, seeing the passenger leaning over both seats, a gun aimed out the door at him. Damian dodged to the side as the gun went off. Pain sliced through his arm as the bullet nicked him, but at least it hadn’t hit him in anything vital.
He swore, Richard had just told him not to get shot.
He snarled at the man, immediately returning fire with a batarang. It caught fingers, and the gun went tumbling to the floor of the cab. Damian then lurched forward, and dragged the passenger out of the car. Twisting his arm as he fell to drag it up behind his back.
In another movement, Damian grabbed the man’s other hand and yanked it behind his back, securing them both with a zip tie.
“Stay.” he growled into his ear, “Or you will regret it.”
He climbed up into the cab and jammed a pole under the steering wheel, locking it in place to keep it from moving if anyone tried to drive the truck.
With that, he turned back into the fray. At this point the smoke had begun to clear. Damian could see that Batman had knocked out a few men already, they were down to 8 enemies to fight. Richard’s warning to stay close was fresh in Damian’s mind, his throbbing arm a reminder that maybe his Batman had wanted him to not quite jump ahead like he had. But then again, Damian should have been able to handle two men in a truck.
He huffed, and fell into line beside Batman.
“Robin, you get the car under control?”
“It will not be going anywhere.” Damian confirmed.
“Good.” There was something tight in Richard’s voice Damian didn’t recognize, but there wasn’t time to explore the reason for that the other men and women were on them already.
Damian had to admit, he and Richard worked well as a team. They were efficient, and quick. Richard’s insistence on having them run drills and practice together before they’d ever gone out into the field had paid off early on, and since then they’d only built on that success.
They managed to take out the rest of the criminals quickly, and they prevented any of them from escaping. After that, Richard directed Damian to zip tie the unconscious thugs while he checked out the boxes of goods.
As Damian was finishing up with the last man, Richard called out, “Found them! I’m calling it in.”
“Good, I am finished here.”
They paired back up outside the building as Batman called the car to their location. Damian had his cape tugged over his arm in an attempt to hide the bleeding, but as they waited, a breeze caught him by surprise and tugged it up, and out of the way.
“Robin!” Batman said, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been injured?”
Damian tugged his cape back in place, scowling, “You told me not to get shot.”
Then his eyes caught on Richard’s left arm, it too was visible and bleeding. Damian pointed at him, accusing.
“You as well! How could you not tell me you’d been injured?”
Richard opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, “I-For the same reason as you. It happened right at the start.”
That must have been why Damian hadn’t heard it, they’d been shot at roughly the same time.
His brother shook his head, “Amazing, we both managed to do the one thing we didn’t want to. Alf’s going to have a field day with this one.”
When they returned to the bunker Alfred directed them both to a shared cot.
“Shirts off young masters, I’ll need to dress both of those wounds.”
Damian rolled his eyes and started tugging off his vest, then undershirt. It wasn’t until it was off that he remembered he still had not covered up his mark. Hopefully they would lump it in with the other scars across his chest.
It was not to be however. Next to him, Richard had stilled. He was staring at Damian’s chest. Damian could feel it, his eyes locked on the feather just under his collarbone.
He froze, his spine stiffening. He didn’t know what to say. His mother’s excuses felt like lies on his tongue and he knew he couldn’t give them to Richard. The man wouldn’t believe him for a moment.
Richard’s gaze was strangely soft. Not angry or upset or any of the things Damian had come to expect from what someone might do when they saw his not-scar. It made him want to squirm in his seat, but he was Damian al Ghul-Wayne. He did not squirm.
“Damian--” Richard’s voice was terribly soft, his eyes glittering, “I had no idea.”
Damian swallowed, there it was. The sadness that he had thought might come. It was dangerous. Seeing it put people in danger, and Richard had seen it, and Damian--Damian did not want him in any kind of danger.
He reached up to put his hand over the mark, and looked down, “I am sorry--I forgot. Had I remembered I hadn’t covered it I would not have--I would have dressed my arm on my own.”
“Do you not want me to see it?” Richard sounded hurt.
Damian looked back up at him, surprised. Richard sounded like he did when Damian was particularly cruel. He tried not to be that way sometimes, but--well pain or frustration drove him to saying things he regretted.
“I--Mother told me no one was allowed to.” He pressed his palm against it a little tighter.
“Why?” Now Richard sounded confused.
Damian was confused. Shouldn’t he know? The way Mother spoke of it had made Damian believe it to be something that anyone would recognize. A black mark.
“It is dangerous.” Damian said simply, “Just seeing it would put myself and others in danger.”
Richard’s brow was furrowed. Behind him, Alfred cleared his throat.
“Master Damian, might I ask, do you know of soul marks?”
“What?” Damian asked, looking up at him, “No, I have never heard of the term.”
Something twisted in his stomach. Sour and warm. He was certain now Mother had lied. He didn’t know why she had lied, but it was making him sick. The warmth was a kind of hope. An answer to the questions plaguing him since he’d arrived.
“A soul mark is a mark each of us are born with. It is to help us find the person most suited for us in the world. Some people never meet their soulmates, but find love all the same but others do and their marks always match.”
Damian remembered the couple he’d seen in the park, their matching hands.
“So then--this is one of those? Not a scar?”
He let his hand drop, fingers grazing the feather.
“I can confirm that it is indeed a soul mark.” Alfred said.
Damian frowned at him, “Have you seen its match?”
Alfred smiled at him. Richard cleared his throat and Damian returned his attention to him. Understanding now blooming, Richard had thought he’d keep something like a soul mark from him. Had believed Damian wouldn’t want him to know something so personal. He must apologize.
Before he could get the words out, Richard had tugged his own shirt off and there, under his collar bone and just above his heart was a feather. It was the feather. Damian’s feather. The one he had seen every day in the mirror. The one he’d traced a hundred times wondering about.
“Oh.” Damian said.
And then, “I don’t understand. I--we would not be romantically compatible?”
Richard snorted, “Soulmates don’t have to be romantically involved, Dames. It can be totally platonic. Often best friends will have matching marks, or a father and son. It just means--well it means we fit together in a special way. That we’ll always be precious to each other.”
Damian could have told Richard that, and it seemed his body had already done the work for him. Or fate? Damian felt he may get a headache if he tried to figure this out.
The point was, Richard was the most important person in his life. He just--he’d had no idea that it had been declared before he’d even met the man. Before he even knew that they would get to the point where they’d trust each other with their lives. It felt right. Instead of a declaration these marks were a promise.
Richard had chosen to love Damian with his whole heart before even knowing who Damian would be to him. And Damian? Well Damian had done the same.
“I hate to break up this moment, but you are both still bleeding.” Alfred said, “You may continue to talk but I really must begin caring for your wounds.”
Damian blushed, “Yes, of course.”
Instead of talking, they fell into silence, both Damian and Richard lost in their own thoughts. Soon, Alfred was finished, and had dismissed both of them.
Damian looked from Richard to the elevator that would return them to the penthouse and back, “I still have questions.” he said, not wanting to be sent to bed with his mind still racing.
“Me too.” Richard said, “How about some cocoa? We can talk upstairs.”
“That sounds nice.”
They moved up to the penthouse, and Damian sat at the bar, his hands pressed into the marble countertop of it. They’d both dressed in pajamas, but even with a shirt tugged over his soul mark --and how nice it was to have a real word for it-- he still felt exposed. Raw. Like there was something new and strange about him.
But nothing had happened with it. It was still there, still the same color and size. Still just a part of him that he’d always had.
“So.” Richard said, taking the seat next to him, and sliding a mug of steaming hot chocolate over, “You have questions?”
“As do you.” Damian said, taking the mug to hold between his palms, “Why don’t you ask yours first?”
His brother hummed, “I think yours will probably answer mine, but let’s start with something easy or maybe not easy, but, well what do you know about soulmates or marks?”
Damian nodded, “I--Mother never explained soulmates to me. I know the term only in a general sense. A phrase used not literally, but figuratively to describe two people romantically entwined. None of my teachers spoke of it, and no one at the League did either.”
He tapped his mug, “I was not blind, I saw the marks. But I believed them to be other things. Scars, birthmarks, or--well I did not have a word for what they were.” Damian could not look at Richard, it was silly. He should have asked more, pressed Mother for answers or done his own research, “It was not until I arrived in Gotham that I saw so many and began to wonder. Surely not everyone in the world could have gotten tattoos? But--not all were visible and so I did not ask.”
Richard was quiet, listening and taking in Damian’s words with rapt attention. He hadn’t even sipped his cocoa. Damian took a gulp of his, just to do something that wasn’t watching his brother.
“And yours?” Richard asked, “What did Talia tell you about it?”
“I--Mother told me mine was dangerous.” Damian pressed his fingers to his chest again, “I was not to talk about it or ask about it. It was supposed to be a scar, from an attack on me when I was a baby. But I always knew it was not. Still, she was insistent I not tell anyone or let others see. Especially Grandfather.”
Damian frowned, “I thought for a long while it was to protect him. That I was cursed.”
He looked up at Richard, into his brother’s eyes, and knew at last why Mother had been so insistent he stay silent, “But I was wrong. Mother was protecting me, and you. If Grandfather knew I had a soulmate, he would have hunted the world for them, and then used them against me.”
Damian did not think he could have stood having Richard in danger because of him. He hated the very thought that anything would happen to his brother. Especially because of him.
He sipped his drink again, “Mother used to rub her wrist. I saw a mark there once. A little bat. I never asked her about it, and she never offered to tell me--Richard? Do the marks have special meaning? Or are they obscure?”
“They do have a meaning, there’s a lot of meaning in their placement and look and well everything.”
“Teach me?”
His brother smiled, “Of course. I’d be happy to.”
They worked their way through their mugs, and second rounds while Richard spoke. He talked about how soul marks that were hidden usually meant that the relationship was more intimate, but not always. How marks mirrored each other, one on the left, one on the right so that the pair could be face to face and match, like looking in a mirror. How if one’s soulmate died the mark faded to be almost invisible or if their relationship broke and shattered how it would line with cracks.
“Just because someone has a soulmate doesn’t mean that things will work out perfectly. We are human after all.” Richard said.
Some people could be born without marks, and very rarely one would change, and shift to take on the form of another. Most often that happened if a soulmate had died, but sometimes it happened for other reasons.
“And the meaning?” Damian pressed, wanting to know, to understand why a feather? Why this mark on his skin and not something else?
His brother hummed, “There’s books and stuff out on their meanings, especially for marks of similar styles. But when it all comes down to it, the meaning really comes from the pair. Some people know instantly why a mark looks the way it does. A shared memory or love of something. Maybe it is the first line a lover traced across another’s wrist, or an idea that is important to them.”
He leaned forward, elbow on the bar’s counter, “Want to take a guess at ours?”
Damian furrowed his brow, “Robin?” he guessed, “or your previous title, Nightwing is indicative of a bird and flight?”
Richard nodded, “Those are good thoughts. I’ve always looked at it as a symbol of flying and of freedom. But feathers have other meanings too. Trust, loyalty, hope, a connection between the creature who had the feather and where it has gone now.”
“I like those.” Damian said, and then looked down at his mug, “You have given me many of those things.”
“And you’ve done the same for me.” Richard said, “We don’t need to name why it is a feather you know. We can feel the meaning here.” he pressed a palm to his heart, “and just know.”
Damian nodded, “I am glad I share it with you. And--I am glad I did not know before now.”
His brother frowned, then nodded, “I see, if you did, and we’d have seen each other’s marks, then you might have thought our relationship was because of the soul mark?”
“Is that silly?” he said, peering up.
“No. It’s a worry a lot of people have.” Richard reached out and took Damian’s free hand, “But soul marks don’t make relationships Damian. They just indicate potential, and while they are incredibly accurate in that indication, it’s up to us what we do with it.”
Damian squeezed Richard’s hand, “I see. We are--doing well?”
Richard laughed, “I’d say so. We had a rough start, but yes, Dames. I think we’re doing just fine.”
Damian smiled, “Excellent. Thank you for answering my questions.”
“Of course.” His brother stretched, “Now, it’s later than either of us should be up. We can chat more tomorrow.”
“Yes.” Damian said.
They got up, rinsed their cups and moved to the hall with the bedrooms. Damian paused, hesitating before he entered his own.
“I was planning to suggest we take the night off patrol, but our injuries have cemented that. Perhaps we can return to the park tomorrow?” he said.
Richard smiled, “Sounds like a plan.” In a motion he tugged Damian forward into a tight hug and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “Love you, kiddo.”
Damian returned the hug, “You as well.”
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betelgeuse-1988 · 3 years
Note
Feel free to ignore but I'd love to see a fic where adam has a photoshoot session with his girlfriend topless 👉👈
hello sweet anon!! :) i took a little liberty with the prompt, if that's okay. i had a similar idea a couple months ago and the basic skeleton of a fic so i developed it a bit more, changed it up, etc. i really hope you like it and it was at least similar to what you were looking for! this is basically just vanilla but if you squint i suppose dom!Adam? and a female reader since that was the request :)
click here to read on ao3 or read below the cut! <3
Adam loved photography. Next to caring for animals, photography was his biggest career interest and the thing that kept him alive, before and after his time in the bathroom. Not only has it helped with saving to go back to college, but it’s been the healthiest way for him to cope (though, you couldn’t deny seeing Adam smoke was attractive). With this being, essentially, the most important part of Adam’s life (he would say it’s you), you couldn’t help but get curious.
So, on the next good day Adam seemed to be having, you decided to ask him if he could show you the process. He was a little suspicious at first, immediately questioning why you wanted to know about photography. “I dunno,” you said after taking a bite of your dinner, “I just wanna see what my boyfriend is so passionate about.”
Adam nodded. You knew he was only suspicious because he really cared about his work. “Well, maybe I could have you develop some fun photos with me,” he said with a smirk.
You raised an eyebrow. “Fun?”
“Yeah, like maybe...we take some pictures in the bedroom?”
A smile grew on your face as you nodded. “Hmmm...what would we be doing in these photos? Sleeping?” You knew saying that would provoke a detailed, snarky comment from Adam and you reveled in the moment of silence as Adam leaned closer to you. His simple movement instinctively drew you in closer, too, so that you were almost nose-to-nose.
Adam ran his hand over yours and looked you in the eye. His voice dropped, low and quiet, “Maybe, but I think I would much prefer taking pictures of you cumming on my cock. Or, my cum all over your face or dripping down your thighs. Maybe even your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock.” He leaned in and gave you a peck on the lips before quickly pulling away. “But, it could just be pictures of you sleeping.”
God what a tease, you thought, sitting back in your seat. “Ah. Those all sound like fun options.” You grabbed his plate and yours, tossing them into the sink for later. Adam watched you closely, a dopey smile on his face. You walked back to where he was sitting and draped an arm around his shoulders. “So, how about we get started?”
Adam turned slightly to kiss you, moving his hand to cup your cheek. You moved your hand from his shoulder to tangle in his hair instead. You tugged on his short hair, to which Adam hummed pleasantly in response. Adam pulled away slightly, a smile still bright on his face, “Okay, okay. Let me go get my camera while you undress for me in the bedroom.” He gives you one last kiss before completely pulling away to grab his camera from the darkroom. You watch him walk away in admiration, rubbing your flushed cheeks. “Go to the bedroom!” He shouts, not even looking back, causing you to chuckle and walk to the bedroom.
While waiting for Adam, you stripped down to your underwear and hopped onto the bed. Adam came in a few minutes later, his camera in his hands. Standing in the doorway, he snapped the first shot of you sitting against the pillows. You smiled widely as he held up the camera. “You look cute,” he said. You blushed at the comment (and bit your tongue to prevent you from denying it). Adam then placed the camera on the edge of the bed and began taking off his shirt. You immediately snatched the camera and took a photo once his shirt was off.
You noticed, however, that he instinctively tried to cover the scar on his shoulder. He was starting to blush under your gaze, mumbling out an apology. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Adam. You’re so pretty, and I wanna capture that.”
He smiled slightly and joined you on the bed, taking the camera out of your hands gently. Adam held the camera in one hand and held your cheek with the other. Kissing you gently, he moved you so that you were underneath him completely and shifted himself down to position himself between your legs. Adam then pulled down your panties and threw them on the side of the bed. Thrusting two fingers into your pussy, he took another picture. “You look so cute, surprised like that.” Putting the camera down, he focused on you. He leaned down to lick your clit as he fingered you. Thrusting in and out at a slow pace, he would curl his fingers slowly in order to hit your g-spot. He would occasionally move down to shove his tongue inside of you, along with his fingers. He pulled off of you as he added a third finger. “Think you can cum for me baby? Wanna see some pictures of you blissed out after cumming on my fingers. Can you do that for me?” Nodding, you moaned out his name. He latched back onto your clit and began fingering you faster. The feelings built and you became so overwhelmed that you shoved your hand into Adam’s hair. You attempted to keep his mouth as close as possible, latched onto your clit. In response to (accidentally) tugging roughly on his hair, he moaned softly on your clit, adding to the overwhelming build up of your orgasm. Your walls clenched down on his fingers as you came, closing your eyes and throwing your head back. Spasming against your boyfriend’s mouth, you tried to keep Adam as close as possible. After riding through your orgasm and letting go of Adam, you heard the snap of a camera as your chest rose and fell.
You opened your eyes to see Adam staring at you through the camera. “Can you take off your bra for me? You can stay laying down if you want.” Nodding, you sat up slightly and took off your bra. Laying back down, you could tell that your skin was slightly flushed, which was only increasing as you realized Adam was still looking at you. You kept your knees bent and threw an arm over your face as the embarrassment overcame you, to which your boyfriend snapped another photo before setting the camera down again. “Aw, sweetie, you look so cute. Trust me, these pictures will turn out great.” Adam looked at you and pulled at your arm to look you in the eyes.
“Sorry, that was just a little...overwhelming I guess.” Adam nodded in response and stroked your arm.
“We can stop, don’t worry about it, baby. I think we got more than enough shots to show you how this works.” “No! I mean, I just don’t want you to fuck me. Just wanna suck your cock,” you said, moving to pull down his boxers.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to, (Y/N).”
“Mhm, now kneel. I want some pictures for you of cum all over my face.” Adam chuckled at that, but complied. You pushed the waistband of his boxers down far enough to pull his cock out. You immediately began sucking on the head of his cock as he moaned lightly. His higher-pitched voice strangled out groans as you began to take his dick as deep as possible. Gagging lightly on it, Adam threw his head back. With one hand, you cupped his balls, and with the other you took the camera from his hands. Pulling off of him completely, you snapped a picture of him. Adam’s head was still thrown back in pleasure, but his eyes were open to snap down and look at where you disappeared to. You could tell the photo would turn out to be slightly blurred, as he began whipping his head down as you took the photo. Once he saw you were just taking a picture, he smiled at you. He leaned down to kiss your head before you put the camera down and placed your mouth on his cock again.
Adam strangled out your name as you deep-throated him again. He instinctively placed his hand on your head and began to lightly guide it up and down his shaft. “Keep going...so good, baby.” His grip on your hair tightened as you reached around to grab his ass. Circling a finger around his hole and slowly pushing it in, Adam thrusts deep into your mouth with a groan. “D-don’t...too much.” As he continued to thrust down your throat, the grip on your hair got tighter. You moved your hand to rest on his hip as he finished himself off. As he started to cum down your throat, he pulled out and finished on your face. His cum fell mostly around your mouth, some shooting up onto the bridge of your nose and some down onto your collarbone.
Shifting back so you’re sitting on your knees, you grab the camera with the arm you’d been leaning on and take a picture of yourself. You take yet another while licking some of the cum off your face. Adam watched you, smiling, knowing the two of you were blissed out of your mind. Once you were done, he leaned over to the bed stand and grabbed tissues for you, wiping the cum off your face and chest. He threw away the tissues and sat back against the headboard. He lit a cigarette and began smoking as you went to grab a shirt off the floor. You had taken the camera with you, intending to set it on the dresser. But, when you turned back and saw Adam smoking casually, an arm thrown behind his head, you snapped one more photo. Adam looked lost in happiness, eyes closed and smoke flowing from his mouth. The white cigarette balanced between his fingers, held tightly as he flicked excess ash into an ashtray on the bedside table. He turned towards you after hearing the shutter of the camera and posed a little, urging you to take the last picture of the night. He put the cigarette down and placed his hands under his chin, cupping his face. Giving you a dopey smile, you took the photo. “See, you’re cuter than me, Adam.” You finally set down the camera and grabbed your shirt off the floor to sleep in. Sliding back into bed, you wrapped around Adam and watched him smoke his cigarette. Adam looked so content and happy, smoking his cigarette with his arm wrapped around you. “I’m really glad I got a photo of you,” you said, sleepily, “you really are so beautiful.”
Adam stubbed out his cigarette, moving to lay down and hold you closer. “Thanks...I wouldn’t say that about myself, but I’m glad you think so.” He kissed you lightly, “But, I’m glad we took pictures, too. You looked so beautiful in all of them.” He looked down at you and saw you were already asleep. He shifted a little, trying to get as comfortable as possible, despite sleep already dragging his eyes closed. “Love you, (Y/N),” was the last thing Adam said before letting sleep overcome him.
Adam had developed the photos the next day, with you sitting on a table in the dark room. You watched him meticulously develop the film, choosing the right chemicals to put into what. You found it all very fascinating, even if Adam saw it as just work some days. You came back later in the day to help him make the prints, soaking them and hanging them to dry. They began to develop right before your eyes. Your focus kept falling on the one of Adam smoking a cigarette after everything that happened the night before. Pointing at that one, as Adam hung up the last photo, you turned to him, “I want that one. Think I’ll frame it and put it on my desk at work. If that’s okay.”
Adam paused for a moment. He had never really had anyone take his picture since childhood and even then they never took his picture to work or anything like that. Adam’s chest swelled with the feeling of love that he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Yeah, of course. I can make more prints, too.” He looked back at the photos hung up, many of them only looking completely developed but were still wet, dripping onto the table below. “This was a lot of fun, (Y/N). I love you.”
He pulled you in for a quick kiss and you responded once he pulled away, “I love you too, Adam.” Most of these pictures were ones you’d keep secret, but you’d definitely cherish them forever.
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snowstark · 3 years
Text
pay attention.
by @moodystark and @snowstark
Summary: Five times Bucky uses Tony’s credit card and one time Tony uses Bucky.
AO3 LINK
for @buckybarnesbingo
Ever since Bucky Barnes had moved into the tower, he couldn't help but notice Tony Stark. Of course, it was expected to see the man considering it was his tower after all, but there was something about him that made Bucky want to know more.
Maybe it was the way Tony Stark was the most sarcastic person Bucky had ever met, or how the man clearly had no self-preservation. Either way, Bucky was hooked and he had a plan to get Tony to pay attention to him, quite literally.
It all started when Clint taught Bucky how to play Mario Kart. The communal living space had a few different gaming consoles that they all shared and the Switch was no different. However, Bucky decided that he wanted his own so he could play other games. Of course, he wasn't about to spend his own money on something so expensive so he went to Tony.
Walking to the lab, Bucky opened the door, not even questioning it when JARVIS let him in. "Hey Stark, will you buy me a Nintendo Switch?" he called, making his presence known.
Tony didn’t even look up from his work, too focused on the holographic screen in front of him. “Mhm, yep, go for it, big guy,” he called back, then had the audacity to kick Bucky out of his lab.
Not the response Bucky was looking for.
A week later, Bucky was sitting in his room playing Animal Crossing on his brand new Nintendo Switch when the second idea came to him. Asking Tony for the Switch hadn't gotten him the attention he wanted so he figured he would have to ask for something even more expensive. He was sure this would work.
Saving the game, Bucky made his way to the living room where everyone was watching some TV show he wasn't interested in. "Hey Tony, do you think you could get me a first edition copy of The Hobbit? It's expensive though," he asked.
At Bucky's question, a whole group of heads looked at him, with Steve asking just how much a book could possibly cost.
"A hundred...thousand," Bucky replied, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, keeping his eyes on Tony to see his reaction.
Tony shrugged. "If it means a lot to you, Barnes, go for it. I wipe my ass with a hundred thousand."
End of discussion.
Tony didn't miss the way Bucky not-so-subtly stomped off to god knew where. In response, he called it a day and headed down to his lab.
He snapped his fingers, sliding a screen away from him, and said, "J?”
"Yes, sir?"
"If Barnes buys anything interesting... I want you to tell me." That was probably a breach of privacy, but whatever. The guy was swiping his card like it was his birthday, so it was warranted.
"Obliged, sir."
Bucky was happy with his copy of The Hobbit, don't get him wrong, but he was feeling defeated. If a hundred grand didn't get Tony's attention, what would?
Over the next few weeks, he came up with a couple of different ways to make Iron Man notice him. First, he started out by no longer asking Tony for permission. Obviously, the man had more money than he knew what to do with, so Bucky figured he wouldn't even notice if some of it went missing.
He did feel bad spending Tony's money recklessly, but the Harley he purchased was well worth it. Besides, Tony didn't even flinch when he told him that he had used his card to buy it.
The next time he used Tony's card, Bucky decided to get a bit weird. Like, purchase a life-size cut-out of Iron Man kind of weird. In his search for the cut-out, he also managed to stumble upon a bunch of merch, so he added two t-shirts, sweatpants, a pair of boxers, and some socks to his cart, all embroidered with Iron Man on them.
There was no way Tony wouldn't pay attention to that purchase or Bucky when he wore the items around the tower. Plus, the boxers made his ass look good.
Tony laughed when he saw what Bucky was wearing for the first time. He patted Bucky's shoulder. "If you wanted a signature, sweetcheeks, you could've just asked."
It was adorable, really, how Tony was turning a blind eye to all of Bucky's efforts.
And evidently, frustrating.
And maybe—just maybe—seeing that flash of yearning flit across Bucky's face was what kept Tony going.
After months of trying to get Tony's attention, Bucky decided to make one last purchase. If this one didn't work then it would be clear the man wasn't interested and he would leave him alone.
The purchase wasn't just any purchase though. Bucky had decided to look at spanking paddles, scrolling through multiple websites to find one he felt would get Tony's attention.
Finally, he came across one that was perfect.
An expensive red leather paddle with the word "Mine" engraved into the leather. It wasn't the kind of paddle where the words were marked into the skin with each spank, but Bucky figured the phrase alone was good enough.
All of the Stark Pads had Tony's bank account information attached and so, with no hesitation, he hit "purchase," not even bothering to ask JARVIS.
Tony had been alerted to his purchase immediately. He expected Bucky to buy a few interesting things but he hadn't expected this.
He had been working in the lab when JARVIS told him: "Sir, Mr. Barnes has made a purchase that I have deemed interesting."
"And what would that be, J?"
Tony grinned, expecting it to be something harmless like another book, but boy, was he wrong.
"It appears he has purchased a spanking paddle made of leather, Sir."
Tony's grin fell off of his face, a groan making its way out of his mouth. "A spanking paddle, really Barnes?" he wondered out loud.
"There's something else you should know, Sir. The paddle has the word "Mine" engraved into it."
Bucky Barnes was trying to kill him.
__________
For a few days, there was only radio silence from Tony, and certainly no sight of him. That was disappointing. Bucky had thought the last purchase would've earned him some well-deserved attention. And, well, he supposed there was no more to it now. If Tony had gotten the hint, he would've come to see him about his latest purchase for sure.
That was until Bucky came back to the Tower with a Starbucks drink in his hand to see Tony waiting for him.
Tony flashed him a grin. "Hey, soldier. Good walk?"
A mute nod from Bucky, but his heartbeat picked up.
Tony sauntered forward, hands clasped behind his back. He tilted his head, appraising the man in front of him for a few moments, then drew out the very paddle Bucky had ordered a few days ago from behind himself.
Bucky froze.
Tony smirked.
He looked down at the object in his hands, turning it over to expose the word MINE. "Very nice choice," he commented lightly. "You have good taste."
Sputtering, Bucky was silent for a moment before speaking. "Yeah well, didn't think you cared for it much," he grumbled. He felt like a child standing there in front of the man he had worked so hard to gain the affection of. So sue him if he was a little grumpy about the whole situation.
Tony's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, so now you're giving me an attitude?" He shook his head, chuckling. "Look, Barnes. What do you want from me, huh?" He flipped the paddle over in his hand, then stepped closer to Bucky, tilting his head. "I can't know if you don't tell me."
"It doesn't matter, Stark. It's obvious you aren't interested," Bucky replied, starting the walk toward the elevator that led up to the Avenger's floors.
“Like hell, it doesn't matter." Tony yanked Bucky back by his shoulder and held the paddle out. "Tell me what this says."
Bucky paused, staring down at the paddle even though he knew exactly what it said. "It says "Mine."
Tony leaned closer. "Now tell me what it means."
"I want to be yours, if you'll have me," Bucky spoke softly, swirling around the straw in his cup.
“I said, tell me what it means.” Tony stared Bucky down.
"It means I'm yours and I-I want you to spank me… Sir," Bucky stuttered, tacking on the last part.
"That's what I thought." Tony quirked a brow. "So then where the hell do you think you're going? I mean, you used my card to buy this, and you're not even gonna let me try it out? What a waste of money."
“Up to your room?” Bucky asked hopefully. He was beginning to think he had this all wrong and Tony was just mad that he had bought the paddle using his card.
Tony grinned, and it was shark-like and hungry. “Bingo.”
It took them about 0.5 seconds to make their way to Tony’s floor, and the moment they stepped out of the elevator, Tony snapped his fingers and pointed.
“Get over the arm of the couch,” he ordered, twirling the paddle in his hands. “Time to pay your debt, sweetcheeks.”
Bucky let out a laugh before following Tony's instructions, bending over the arm of the couch. He wasn't nervous about the man using the paddle on him—Bucky could handle pain. He was more excited than anything else, finally, he was getting the attention he had been craving.
"Greedy," Tony muttered under his breath, then slapped the paddle against his palm, making Bucky jump—which, good.
Bucky's lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise when Tony laid down a smack without warning, making heat bloom in his cheek.
Tony grinned. "What, you like that?"
"Wouldn't have bought it if I didn't like it, doll," he replied cheekily, feeling more secure of himself now that it was actually happening.
Tony paused. "What'd you just call me?"
Bucky frowned, turning his head to face Tony. "I'm sorry, do you not like that pet name? I won't call you it again."
Tony stared back at him, then said softly, “Wrong name, pal. I’m not doll. I’m Daddy.”
Bucky shivered at that.
Calling Tony Daddy? Yeah, he could do that.
"Yes, Daddy."
"There you go." Tony felt a rush of satisfaction at that, and he rewarded Bucky silently with a small whack of the paddle that he knew had to be louder than painful. "You know, it's not my first time paddling a brat."
"Not a brat," Bucky mumbled, blushing lightly.
“No?” Tony’s eyebrows shot up, and he landed another crack, hard enough for Bucky to really feel it this time. “That’s not why you bought ridiculously expensive items on my card, huh?” Crack. “Not why you tried to goad me into doing this.” Crack! “I mean, was it worth it? Are you pleased with yourself?”
"I-I'm sorry Daddy. I just wanted y-your attention," Bucky gasped, whining each time the paddle made contact with his backside. The description for the paddle had been accurate when it said it would sting.
"Yeah? Are you enjoying it now? Because you definitely have my full attention." Tony paused, then ordered, "Get your pants and boxers off. I wanna see how red your ass is."
Bucky made quick work pulling down his pants and boxers, letting out a little laugh when he realized he was wearing the Iron Man boxers. A little shiver went through his body once his ass was exposed to the cold air in the room.
Although Tony had gotten a few decent swats in, Bucky's cheeks were only slightly colored, his jeans taking the brunt of the spankings. If this was how it felt to get the man's attention, Bucky was more than happy to continue his antics.
"Brat," Tony muttered under his breath. He rested the paddle on Bucky's left ass cheek, then pinched his right one, hard. "You're not learning a single thing, are you?"
Bucky yelped at the pinch. "I don't know. Maybe you should spank me again just in case," he sassed, wiggling his ass teasingly.
"Maybe I should," Tony agreed. He brought the paddle down in a harsh swing, the crack echoing throughout the room. "Maybe I should paddle your ass red until you're crying and your voice is raw from begging me to stop. Maybe I should paddle you to make sure that you learn some fucking manners. Or maybe I shouldn't paddle you at all, because that would just be rewarding your bad behavior."
"W-Whatever you want, Daddy. I'll be good," Bucky promised, focusing on the warm heat radiating throughout his ass.
“I know,” Tony purred. “I know you are. Gotta pay me back somehow.” He paused and rested the paddle on Bucky’s ass. “You ever done this before, Barnes? I mean, don’t we need like, a... safeword, or something?”
“The 1930s were kinkier than people expect,” Bucky commented before pausing to think. “Safewords are important. Mine is Brooklyn. Have you ever done something like this?”
“Yup,” Tony said shortly. “We’ll both stick with Brooklyn. Easier that way.” With that discussion done, he brought the paddle back down. “I’m gonna paddle you until your ass is red and you’re crying your throat raw for forgiveness.”
Bucky wanted that more than anything. “Please, Daddy?” he whined, pushing his ass against the paddle.
“Since you asked so nicely,” Tony snarked. “And because you deserve it.”
That was the last thing he said before properly getting into it, kicking Bucky’s legs apart before widening his own stance.
Bringing the paddle down over and over again onto Bucky’s ass brought a loud crack that resonated throughout the entire room. He kept going until Bucky’s ass was red, and he didn’t miss the way his cock was starting to chub up.
He snorted and rested the paddle on Bucky’s ass. “Look at you, getting off on this. Who would’ve thought? The big, bad soldier, about to blow his load because he’s getting his ass beat.”
"Daddy," Bucky whimpered, digging his fingers into the couch. Not only did he have a thing for spanking but he had a thing for humiliation and degradation as well. The combination of the two was almost enough to send him over the edge, especially when it was Tony fulfilling his kinks.
Taking a deep breath, he worked to stave off his orgasm, not wanting to embarrass himself further by coming so quickly and untouched.
Unfortunately for Bucky, Tony quickly realized exactly what he was doing, and made it his goal to get Bucky off, because he said with a grin evident in his tone, “I bet you could even come untouched from this.”
He laughed when Bucky let out a small, low whimper, and crack went the paddle. “See? I knew it. God, you’re so fucking filthy, Barnes. Daddy’s gonna make you come, right fucking now.”
Bucky let out a loud moan at that, digging his fingers into the couch even harder as he pushed over the edge into the white-heat of orgasm. His cock twitching, releasing his load onto the side of the couch.
He hadn't come like that in a long time and couldn't recall a time where he had come untouched. Breathing hard, he slumped forward, resting his entire weight on the furniture.
“Well, would you look at that?” Tony sounded simultaneously fascinated and turned on.
Bucky turned his head to watch and flushed when Tony ran his fingers through his come before bringing it up to his mouth, sucking obscenely.
He grinned when he caught Bucky staring. “What? I’m cleaning up your mess.”
Fuck.
Bucky groaned, running his hands down his face. "Fucking hell, Stark. You tryin’ to kill me?" he asked, pulling his boxers back up, hissing at the feeling of the tight fabric over his ass.
"What happened to Daddy?" Tony retorted, then ran three of his fingers through the mess again and held it out to Bucky, sending a shudder through his entire body from head to toe. "Now it's your turn. I can only do so much for you when you’re the one who made the mess, honey."
Bucky happily took the three fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean, all while maintaining eye contact with Tony. Releasing them with a pop, Bucky leaned in closer to Tony before whispering in his ear.
"Thank you, Daddy."
Tony's lips parted in a silent groan, and he closed his eyes momentarily before looking at Bucky. "I think we've done things a bit backward, soldier. What d'you say to being treated to dinner by me?" He raised an eyebrow. "Italian sound good?"
"Sounds perfect, although I'm sure I'd eat anything you suggested," Bucky commented playfully.
At Tony's eye-roll, Bucky looked around the room, smirking when he noticed his metal arm had torn the fabric in the height of his orgasm. “Hey Daddy, can I use your card to buy a new couch?”
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noctilucid · 3 years
Text
DannyMay Day 15: Nature
**References my Day 4 (Stars) drabble, but stands alone.**
"Circle up everybody!" Ms. Teslaff barked, rapping her walking stick on a boulder embedded in the trail.  "This camping trip is required by the state to be educational.  Therefore, you will be given a group assignment designed to meet municipal standards."  Mr. Lancer opened his messenger bag and started passing around packets and paper bags.  A ripple of complaints and muttered curses spread out through the group.  "You will be assigned a partner, and together you will search for and identify these plants.  Bring back a leaf for each plant in the packet to receive full credit."  
Paulina grimaced and looked down at her shoes for the tenth time that day.  She had thought they'd stay close to the cabins for this trip, and her usual cute flats would have served her just fine on the broad, packed paths cut by hundreds of students' feet in the years before.  But here she was, hiking in them.  The mud was bad enough, but all the uneven terrain was putting creases in the material every time she had to put her weight on the balls of her feet.  And now she was expected to go on a scavenger hunt?  What was she, five?  
"Paulina," Mr. Lancer said with a tired drawl as he read the names written on the brown paper bag on the top of his stack, "you will be partnered with Sam Manson."  He handed her the bag and a packet before moving on to the next group.  
Uhg, perfecto.  I'm with Creepy Manson.  They did this on purpose, didn't they?  Paulina cut her eyes at Sam as she stomped over in her combat boots, looking equally thrilled.  
"How many plants do we have to find?" Sam sighed, taking the packet from her.  She flipped through the pages.  "Well, at least these are all pretty distinctive."  
"I'm sure you're disappointed none of them can lay eggs in my face," Paulina returned with an edge.  She still hadn't forgiven Sam for that incident at the aquarium all those years ago.  
Sam narrowed her eyes, not looking up from the paper.  "Spores."
"What?"
"Plants don't lay eggs.  Some of them have spores."  She folded back a few pages and held up a picture of a fern they were supposed to locate.  "This one can lay spores in your face."  
Paulina raised her hand and waved at the teachers.  "Miss Teslaff, I want a different partner!  I don't want Sam to murder me and bury my body in the woods.  I'm too pretty to die."  
"No changing groups!"  
Paulina huffed and crossed her arms.  "Tough break," Dash said to her as he and Valarie headed off on one of the forks in the path.  
"Good luck!" Kwan chimed in, who was paired with Tucker.  "Hey, you got a plant identifying app on that thing…?"
"Do I ever!"  
Danny put a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder as he followed Mikey uphill.  "Try not to be too hard on her?"  
"No promises," Sam grumbled.  
Soon the path had cleared out except for the two of them and two pairs of band nerds peering over their packets together.  
"Come on, let's get this over with," Sam said at length, grabbing Paulina by the wrist and hauling her off in a random direction.  
"Ow!  Hey, get off of me!"  
Sam did let go, and then scuffled up a tumble of boulders to a trail on higher ground.  Paulina let out a dramatic and frustrated groan before following her up much more slowly.  By the time she caught back up, Sam was standing in the shade of a tree growing out of a split in the rock, studying the packet again.  
"Oriental Thuja?" she said, forehead creased.  "Why would they even put that on here?  It's not native to this area."  
"So we won't be able to find it?" How much is this stupid assignment worth anyway?
"No, it could be here, but it's invasive."
Paulina rolled her eyes.  "Don't tell me you're going to be sacrimonious about plants now too."  
"Oh, of course," Sam returned.  "Because you only like nature if it's pretty and flatters you.  You can't be bothered to learn about something complicated like an ecosystem."  She headed down the trail at a brisk walk, grabbing a sapling and using it as a hand-hold as she swung herself down another steep portion.  
"Would you stop doing that?" Paulina yelled after her, but Sam didn't slow down.  "¡Joder!" she swore under her breath.  Somehow, she was going to make Sam regret this by the end of the day.  She just had to figure out how.  
***
A brooding 45 minutes later, and Sam had found five of the plants they were looking for with little help from Paulina.  
"Next is the purple coned larch…" Sam said, more to the paper held in front of her face than to Paulina.  "We should probably go uphill to look for it…"  Paulina died a little more inside.  No more climbing hills!
"Oh, is that one of the ones that's going to lay spores in my face?" Paulina sniped as Sam strode on ahead for the hundredth time.  "I guess you would end up with some weird kinks after being possessed by an ugly plant ghost."  
"You're the one who brought up the face eggs," Sam said, nonchalant, and notably not slowing down.  "I think that says more about you than about me."  
Paulina clenched her fists.  "Ugh!  You're such a freak, you know that?"
"Aaaand personal attacks mean you have no convincing arguments left in your arsenal!  Looks like it's Sam two, Paulina zero for the day so far."  Sam was steadily moving out of range, and Paulina was forced to follow if she wanted to continue the argument.  She was busy trying to think of a better jab while watching where she put her feet, but Sam beat her to the punch.  "It's kind of sad that you're still hung up on this actually.  Move on already."
Paulina gritted her teeth as the angle of the slope forced her to grab a muddy point of rock to haul herself up with.  "Would it kill you to apologize?  ¡Dios mío!”
"For what?"
"For harassing me with a starfish, Miss Don't-Be-Cruel-To-Animals!"  She stood up and tried to wipe her hand clean on a tree trunk.  "And I mean a real apology, not that stupid letter the teacher made you write."  
"Oh, yeah, to be clear, I didn't mean that apology letter."  
"It was clear," Paulina said, quiet and venomous.    
"I hope you shredded it or something.  I'm kind of embarrassed to have my name on the bottom of it."  
"I threw it in the fireplace as soon as I got home that day."  
"Well, that's a relief," Sam said with a performative grin.  "And no, after what you did to Danny, you'd better believe I'd eat a hot dog before I'd apologize to you."  
"I only went out with Danny to get under your skin!"
"Exactly."
Paulina's hands spasmed between gestures as she tried to collect herself.  "Did you ever think that maybe, if you weren't such a self-absorbed piece of shit, maybe your friends wouldn't get hurt as much?"
Sam's face went blank for a telling second before she focused back on the paper.  Paulina was a little surprised that jab had worked, actually, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  She couldn't think of anything to follow up with, so she decided to allow the silence to be her victory.
And she's back to climbing again.  Someone kill me…
They had almost reached the summit of the hill they were on— Paulina was debating to herself whether it was tall enough to be considered a mountain— when Sam finally found what she was looking for.  The tree she was examining was scrawny and gnarled, squeezing its roots into the veins of available soil, and it was barely taller than they were.  
"I think this is it.  The needles look the same," Sam said, holding up the page for comparison.  "It would help if the picture wasn't in black and white, though."
Paulina cast a glance over the diagram and the plant in front of them.  "No, it doesn't have the little cones," she grumbled.  I swear to god, if we have to climb any higher…
"This one's pretty young.  I don't think it's old enough to have fruited before.  They take a couple of years to get established."  
"Well how can you tell if this is the right one?  There's a thousand different Christmas trees on this hill, and they all look the same."  Paulina shook her head.  "You know, whatever.  Let's just take a branch and go—"  She sputtered to a stop as Sam pushed the packet and paper bag full of samples into her hands.  Paulina adjusted the materials in her hands and watched as Sam stooped down, fished in her combat boot with two fingers, and pulled out something long and thin.  She pulled off the makeshift cap, revealing the stubby tip of a well-used oil pencil.  
Kneeling in front of the tree, Sam drew some intricate shape on the trunk with the dark blue pigment, then murmured something Paulina didn't catch.  In the shadow of the trees branches, Paulina saw the symbol glow faintly green, and the same light snaked up the tree along the ridges in the bark until it reached the closest branch.  With a quiver, the end of the branch put out fresh needles and then a tiny purple cone.  
"See?" Sam said, breaking off the end of the branch.  "Perfect match."
Paulina gaped like a fish. "You— Holy shit, you—"  Magic.  That was honest to god magic!  Paulina felt lightheaded.  She had been… dabbling.  Combing the internet and old bookstores.  At first, she had hoped to find a spell that could summon a ghost, or anything else she could use to get Phantom's attention.  But as the weeks had stretched into months, she had become desperate to find any scrap of genuine magic.  And here it was.  
"Are you— is that Wicca?" she finally managed.
Sam shook her head.  "Semitic Neopaganism.  There's a difference."  
Paulina paused to think on it.  Could I learn Jewish magic if I'm not Jewish?  Would it even work for me?  She chewed on her lip.  What am I saying?  There's no way Manson would teach me anything in the first place.  Then Sam started speaking softly, and Paulina had to shake out of her thoughts to catch it.
"I did think about apologizing," Sam said.  "Properly.  I was… kind of a mess in fifth grade.  Um.  And sixth and seventh too, actually."  Her eyes remained focused on the pine sprig in her hand as she spoke, slowly rotating it between her fingers.  "I've never liked you.  But that didn't make it right for me to pick on you."  She stood up and took back their paper bag, tucking the sample inside.  "But then you pulled Danny into it.  So, I'll never apologize."  She finally looked up and met Paulina's gaze.  "And neither will you."  Paulina opened her mouth to retort, only to realize that Sam was an image of perfect calm.  It was not an accusation, not a barb, just a statement.  And Paulina had no idea how to respond.  "We're both petty bitches," Sam continued. "It's in our natures.  So… let's just move on."  She extended a hand to Paulina.  "Deal?"  
The offered hand was stiff and formal, as if this were a business meeting rather than two sweaty girls talking on a hiking trail, but Paulina saw an earnestness in it.  Slowly, she reached out and slid her own palm into Sam's.  
"Deal."  She watched Sam for a moment, her unwavering gaze, the ridiculous purple contacts, the stillness which had come over her, like a stone come to rest.  Not sophisticated or refined, as Paulina sought to be, but… very Sam.  Very self-assured, in a way Paulina pretended not to admire.  "We don't like each other."
"Naturally."  Sam released her hand and turned to head back down the slope.  
"But we… don't hate each other either.  We just... are.  Now."  
Paulina saw the little quirk of a smile enter Sam's lips.  "Yeah."  
"And maybe… we can talk about magic sometimes?"  She shook her head, slightly embarrassed. "Like, over text, so nobody gets the wrong idea?"
Sam chuckled.  "Yeah.  That sounds fun."  
A smile crept over Paulina's face in spite of her attempt to hide it.  Oh, what does it matter?  Sam's not looking at me anyway.  She gave herself a moment to squeal silently in her head.  Real magic!  She'd found someone who knew real magic!  She shook her head again.  Of course it would be Manson.  Of course.  
She picked up her pace, in spite of her sore feet, in spite of the damage she was doing to her shoes, to catch up to Sam.  It was easier going downhill.  "What do we still have to find?"  
Sam extended the packet to her, pointing to one of the plants.  "Just two left, lady fern and honeysuckle.  They both like to grow near water, so I saved them for last.  We can head down and check the creek on our way back."  Oh thank god, we're almost done.  Paulina leaned in to get a better look at the fern diagram.  "You know, there's a spell I've been working on that uses ferns.  Maybe we should grab a couple extra?"  
Paulina squealed out loud this time, and clapped a hand over her mouth.  "Sorry," she mumbled through her fingers.  "Solemn.  Solemn goth witch."  She folded her hands in front of her and tried to look composed.  Sam laughed.  
"Nah, you don't have the wardrobe for that.  Go on, be as pink as you'd like."  She stepped down a bank of tree roots and held a branch back for Paulina to follow in her wake.  Paulina paused in surprise before accepting the gesture.
This will take some getting used to.  
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toxicityriot · 3 years
Text
Shishigumi Family AU Drabble:
Summary: Ibuki is up late at night, trying to wrap his head around the recent events of his (formerly) missing boss. Louis is awake too dealing with his own struggles and the lion comes to grip that he doesn't just see the young and stubborn buck as his boss or friend but as something more: family
Disclaimer: I've only seen the anime once and skimmed a few random manga pages to try and learn about characters (currently making slow progress on reading the whole thing online). I'm sorry if I butchered personalities and/or backstories in canon so I guess anything messed up would just be part of the AU lol.
Things were beginning to look like they were heading in the right direction. It only took about two months for things to start moving slow once more. Tensions have fallen and eased back into the normal casual lifestyle of the Shishigumi-or whatever the ‘norm’ for a ragtag group of lions keeping a rather taboo location in check. It was their norm anyway and they frankly did not care if anyone thought different. 
Despite the feeling of calmness washing over the rundown tower of a mansion, Ibuki could sense the underlying troubles that shook the members of the Pride down to its foundations. Even though the future was looking pretty good as of now, it had only just started to calm down after a rather devastating event that had even him sick to his stomach. He did not allow this feeling to really present itself publicly but he was still a bit shaken from the events that had unfolded a couple of months ago. 
It had started when the Shishigumi boss had run off, ordering his lion followers to stay behind. That it was his duty to help a friend. Normally, the lions would not care to meddle with high school drama or fighting students but with one of their own running straight into the snarling jaws of carnivores, it had them all worried. Ibuki could recall the sheer power and determination that blazed like orange flames in his boss’ copper colored eyes, mingled with the heavy scent of fear that radiated off his body like a furnace. A few of the lions almost broke their ‘promise’ to try and give their boss bacup after hearing about what this fight was about. But in the end, it was not their fight and they respected their boss too much to go against his orders. 
It had been a nerve wracking waiting game as the sun had slowly risen over the streets of the Market. They patiently waited for a sign. 
No calls, no texts, no check ins, and not a single letter. 
The Shishigumi boss had gone off the radar. Being an herbivore thrusting himself into a fight between two apex predators and had not returned, hope was slowly fading. By night three, the lions began to schedule patrols to keep an eye out for their horned friend, just in case. They kept their eyes and ears open in the market as well tracking any shipments of deer meat in the market just in case. 
By the end of the second week, there was still no sign of their missing boss and Ibuki had taken the role as the new leader of the Pride. It was heavily suspected that their friend had gotten too close to the deadly fight and had been devoured. It sickened Ibuki. He had grown fond of the deer and it devastated him to think of the outcome of that fight. 
Ibuki removed his glasses from his face with a sigh. It had only been about a week since Louis’ return and reassignment as boss once more. He could tell that whatever happened at that fight was troubling the boy. He never spoke of the full story in detail and that was his choice. He would respect that. The others did as well when they haute their poking and prodding but Ibuki had noticed that their were more changes to the former high school student than just physical. He noticed that he had slowly started to take better care of himself and was a lot more open on his thoughts and feelings than before. Even though these changes were not necessarily bad, it still left him in questions as to why. Louis had even halted his newfound carnivorous diet in favor of the much healthier greens he was supposed to be eating and gained a couple of pounds back in the process. He was still poorly underweight and underdeveloped for his age and species but Ibuki was proud to see the small glimmers of improvement in the field of self care. 
Small tap like thuds drew the old lion out of his thoughts as he redirected his attention to the flight of stairs. He had been so lost in his own head that he failed to realize that Louis was almost at the bottom of the staircase. He watched calmly as the deer slowly inched his way down, step by step with a hand on the wall for support, occasionally whispering small mutters to himself. Quite possibly cursing the terrible night vision he had as an herbivore. It was also good to see that Louis did not seem on edge at this hour of night as he seemed to have full trust in the Pride to not attack him when he was basically blind. A louder tap and a metallic thump let the deer know that he had made it safely down the stairs and with a flick of an ear, he adjusted his loosely fitted white shirt. Ibuki decided to make his presence known as he slowly strode towards the deer, making sure his footsteps were not light so as to not startle him. Wide unseeing copper eyes looked up and his head turned to the general direction of the footsteps. “Hey,” he greeted softly. 
Ibuki noticed the tiredness in the young buck’s voice and gave a small nod of his head. “Louis,” he returned the greeting warmly. “What are you doing up? With all due respect, i thought you would be asleep.”
Louis strugged a shoulder, not caring that the hem of the shirt has slipped over his shoulder. The lion could see the small white spots dotting the brown fur. He frowned slightly. He had only seen the fawn spots once before. Being brought up in the Market did its damage on the boy in more ways than one. “Couldn't sleep.” Louis slowly limped towards the kitchen, keeping one hand slightly away from his body to feel around his surroundings. “I could ask you the same thing.” The lion followed, impressed by the boy’s navigation skills. Even though he was relying on the sense of touch and his memory of the mansion’s layout, he seemed to be doing quite well in the dark. 
Being an herbivore living with a group of lions certainly had some of its perks. 
Ibuki observed the way Louis tended to keep most of his weight into his left leg with each step, putting only a small amount of pressure onto his prosthetic while he limped. He could tell the deer was trying to hide the limp but his efforts were not working well. He hung back a bit as he opened the fridge, squinting his eyes a bit to adjust his eyes to the sudden brightness that flooded the kitchen with a white glow, just standing there as if debating what his next move would be. The lion glanced down and noted how his left leg hovered about an inch from the ground and how he gripped onto the fridge for support. His ears twitched and his tail swayed slowly. "Does it hurt, boss?"
Louis did not reply. In fact, he made no indication that he heard the question but it seemed to snap him out of his trance when he grabbed a bottle of water. He closed the fridge and leaned his back against the door, twisting the cap off and taking a drink. Ibuki wondered if he hit a nerve. 
"Yeah." Louis responded after another sip. He sighed and looked down, slowly moving his right leg as if observing it. "Sometimes it's like I can still feel my hooves on the ground. Sometimes it burns. Sometimes its just numb. Sometimes it's a little bit of all." Pushing himself off the fridge, he screwed the lid back on the now empty bottle and placed it back in the fridge in a drawer that held his own personal food items and drinks. "I try not to think about it too often. Thinking about it only makes the pain worse." 
There was a long silence that fell between carnivore and herbivore. Ibuki, just standing near the doorway of the kitchen and Louis, leaning against the fridge with his head down, antlers making soft scraping noises as they accidentally brushed against the fridge door. He could see the boy's ears were drooping, his tail low, and his eyes nearly closed with a sorrowful expression on his face. So many thoughts must be lurking in his head, so many questions about life in general. It was one of the many things that had changed since Louis’ return. He seemed to be more readable than ever yet so unpredictable. In fact, he was always unpredictable, especially from the start when he took the first bite of meat at the table, asserting his growing authority over the lions who had watched his every move with wonder and some disbelief. 
Ibuki ran his hand through his mane as Louis straightened himself a bit. The deer came closer, keeping his eyes downcasted as he seemed to follow the sound of the lion’s breath. Ibuki watched with concern that melted into confusion as Louis hesitantly leaned his head against his chest, careful not to accidentally impale him with the sharp ends of his antlers. He stood there, immensely unsure about the gesture. It wasn't until Louis’ smaller arms held onto him that he realized he was seeking comfort from whatever was plaguing his brain. Inuki slowly lowered himself to kneel on his knees to reduce the massive height difference and returned the embrace gently, hoping that his act of affection and care would sooth the boy. It was just another thing that made its way onto the unpredictable things to come from the smaller animal. Hell, he never would've thought that he even liked hugs but this interaction proved him wrong, 
“I'm sorry,” Louis had whispered as he moved his head to rest his chin on Ibuki’s shoulder. “I was harsh on you guys. All you wanted to do was help and I turned your offers down. I should have let told you that i was still alive and-”
“With all due respect boss, i'm going to stop you right there.” Ibuki gently pulled Louis off on him and laid his hands on his shoulders, a soft look from his eyes even if he couldn't see it. “You don't need to apologize for anything. You were loyal to your wolf friend and helped him out when things got ugly. You put the ones you cared about first before your own needs and that says something about a person.” The lion smiled, gently scratching the fur behind the deer’s left ear. “You might have antlers instead of a mane, hooves for claws, and flat teeth in place of fangs but you damn well have the heart and soul of a lion. I dont think ive ever heard or witnessed another herbivore like yourself doing what you did back there. I know you made a remark about me not being your father but Louis...im proud of you, as if…” he trailed off, studying Louis' expression for a sign to continue. He could not see any negative thoughts or maybe even a furrowed brow of disgust. Hell, if anything, his expression was completely unreadable. 
He could not bring himself to say it, at least not yet. He just simply gave a small nod and a smile. “All that I'm trying to say is that I'm glad to have you back with us, Louis. You're always welcome here as our Boss, friend, and a part of our family.” Ibuki slowly raised himself back to his feet, giving Louis a playful rub between his antlers. “It was nice talking with you, son,” he added. He saw Louis’ ears perk up straight at the nickname. “ I'll let you get back to whatever you were wanting to do. I'll see you in the morning. Try not to stay up too late. You need your sleep.” As Ibuki made his way out of the kitchen, he could still feel the deer’s eyes on his back, following the movement of his departure as he made his way up the stairs for the night.
    Night had fallen and the morning had come. Ibuki was greeted to a rokous in the dubbed ‘recreational room’ as he watched the lions chat amongst themselves as they played a video game. He could pick out Agata and Free sitting on the floor in front of the television, Dope behind Free, Dolph a few steps away, Hino and Jinma watching every now and then as they spoke about their own thing, and Sabu crouched near Dope. Between Free and Agata sat Louis, the three of them going head to head in a heated game of Claws Of Duty on the TV. Ibuki did not exactly have the same interest in the video game but he took amusement in the younger members competing on who can score the most kills or who slaughters who first. He faintly heard Dope exclaim “kick his ass, boss” just before one of the sections of the screen displayed a kill animation for a round of bullets to an avatar's head, followed by Free’s groan of defeat in his loss and Agata’s laugh before he looped an arm around Louis’ neck in a celebratory semi embrace. 
    The eldest of the lions smiled. Things were indeed looking good for the Shishigumi, the band of mischievous lions and a theater performer of a young buck. He could not ask for anything better. 
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atinyarmyzen · 3 years
Text
𝒸𝒶𝓃’𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓂𝑒?
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𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭!𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚 𝐱 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: brief mention of injury, some swearing
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: period setting, angst, fluff, you are the only child of a noble family who is an aspiring writer (much to your mother’s distaste), and one day to run into an old friend. 
𝐚/𝐧: this took way too long to write so sorry if you’ve been waiting a while, this idea popped into my head and I started writing it like a month ago on and off. I hope you enjoy this v fluffy dramatic ghost au!
You don’t know him, but he knows you. Yuta had been a lingering spirit in this house for over a century, and he has grown quite fond of you over the years. He used to be your “friend” when you were little, but you had long since forgotten him. It broke his heart, but he still loved watching you while you wandered around the huge manor, he loved your singing and watching you read by the window. He had grown content with the arrangement, him admiring you and you never noticing, until one day- you do.
Your family had lived in the house for a couple generations, though the huge manor has been there for hundreds of years before you. Your mother and father were nobles who owned a sizable chateau in the countryside. You were expected to be a debutant and were to be married off to some other noble. It felt more like being sold in your eyes, and you wanted no part of it. Rather than going to parties and balls you preferred to read your books and run around barefoot in the huge meadows. It was lonely considering you were the only child, but you didn’t mind. You preferred the people in your books, and would often visit places all around the world through the stories you read.
Yuta had been the spirit of the house for as long as he could remember. He could barely recall his mortal life, and his life as a spirit felt like eternity even though he had only been dead 100 years. He knew you since you were quite small, and you knew him. You were the only person that had ever actually seen him, and your sweet friendly soul made him feel like wasn’t alone - trapped on the other side of existence. You would often run down the long hallways together, laughing and giggling the whole way. To your parents, it just looked like you running around alone, and they often just passed it off as you being having a wild imagination.
Those were the best days of Yuta’s existence, but it was not to last. As you grew older, your “imagination” began to fade away. One day, Yuta found you where you normally were, in the library by your favorite window. He smiled as he snuck up on you, prepared to playfully spook you like he always would. Except when he jumped out in front of you, you didn’t move a muscle. You kept your eyes trained on the book as if you heard nothing.
“Y/N?” he questioned. Nothing.
He kneeled down in front of you, his big doe eyes looking up into your face as your eyes continued darting across the page. “Y/N?, what’s wrong?” he asked again, thinking you were just giving him the cold shoulder. “Have I done something wrong?” he pleaded, his brows knitted in concern. Yuta reached out his hand and cupped your face, he noticed the sun rays seeping through his ghostly form as he touched your soft cheek. Instead of meeting his eyes, you simply shivered and pulled the window shut as if there was a draft. Yuta drew his hand back, can’t you see him?
He heard your mother call you from the other room, your head immediately perked up in response. “Coming mother!” you announced as you closed your book and got up to leave. Yuta watched in horror as you walked right through him out of the room, his eyes pricked with tears as he watched his best friend leave. His heart shattered, he had never loved anyone so much and it seemed like you had all but forgotten him.
Years past and you grew into a young adult. You attended school, went to parties - or rather forced to go by your parents, and talked to what seemed like hundreds of bumbling idiots who just wanted to marry you for you family fortune. The only solace you found was in your library where you could escape to far off places in books, or running around with your small dog in the fields. Yuta had no choice but to watch you grow, and soon his fondness for the small child he knew grew into love for the beautiful angel that graced the halls of the estate. He had become content with his situation- as long as he got to admire you from afar, it did not matter if you could not see him.
Until one day.
You had become absolutely fed up with your parents incessant need to marry you off. Dinner, like always, turned into a debate over your free will.
“I’d rather chew glass than marry that fool.” you spat as you pushed the food around your plate.
“Y/n, stop being so ridiculous. Don’t pretend you never expected this time to come.” Your mother retorts.
“I’m sorry darling, but we have already discussed the arrangement with his family,  you can’t pull out now.” Your father added.
“I wish his dad pulled out but here we are.” You quipped under your breath.
Your father choked on his food and tried his best to stifle his laugh at your little joke. Your mother was less than pleased and scowled at you from across the table.
She shot daggers at your father. “I blame you for her mouth.”
“Would it really be that horrible if I didn’t marry? My literature instructor says I have a talent in writing and that I should consider publishing my stories. I could be so much more than somebody’s prize.” You said with an almost pleading tone.
“I won’t have my daughter becoming some kind of spinster lady. Can’t you see what’s best for your family?” Your mother said, sounding deflated. Your father kept his gaze down.
“I think “what’s best for me” are the words you’re looking for.” you seethed before you loudly pushed your chair back and sped out of the room.
You were too upset to even think about where you were going so your instincts took you right to the library where you sat on your seat by the tall glass window in a huff. All of it, the anger, frustration, sadness began to come to a boiling point. It felt like an elephant was sitting on your chest. Tears pricked your eyes and despite your best efforts they began to fall.
Yuta had heard the whole exchange at dinner, and watched from the corner of the room as your body heaved in sobs. It felt like someone was shoving a spike through his heart- he knew you. He knew you better than anyone, they way you prefer animals to people, your favorite books that you read through so many times the pages have worn, the way your eyes light up when you find inspiration for your stories. He knew what your dreams were- and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
He felt helpless, he decided he would do his best to comfort you even if you couldn’t see him, maybe you could feel him. Just as he started towards you he knocked over a stack of books. He cringes at the sudden noise which instantly made you jump and whirl around.
“Hello?” you said, startled.
Yuta dashed behind a bookshelf, although he mentally kicked himself for it because you couldn’t see him anyway. You got up and cautiously stepped forward.
“Mother?” you called. There was no way the wind knocked that huge pile over.
You felt the hair on your arms and neck stand up. You realized that you were supposedly alone, but the sickly chilling feeling in your gut said otherwise. Despite your every nerve screaming at you to get the hell out of the room you moved closer to the corner where the noise came from. You were stopped dead in your tracks when you heard a faint shuffling behind the tall book shelf. You gulped and peeked into the shadows.
You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you thought it was going to be something that would haunt you forever. Instead, you found nothing but what looked like a young man sitting on the floor with his hands covering his eyes. He looked just as scared as you were. He hadn’t noticed you yet, and you studied his appearance a little closer. His form was shifty, as if he was not solid, he looked though he was dressed from a hundred years ago. He had long, sliver tresses that reached down the nape of his neck and brushed his forehead. He had delicate features and full, pink lips. You smiled at the boy, there was something so sincere and endearing about him.
You decided to clear your throat to announce yourself, “Ahem”.
The boy gasped and ripped his hands away from his face. He looked up at you with huge, sparkly dark eyes and you were sure you could see your reflection in. Something about his eyes struck you- they were oddly familiar. You stared at each other for a while before he snapped out of his trance and quickly stood up. You were taken aback at how you were suddenly looking up at him, he looked to be about your age.
“You can see me?” He finally spoke.
“Of course I can.” You replied as if you see him everyday.
“Do you remember me?” Yuta said quietly.
“Remember you? I’ve only just met you.” You stared at him quizzically
Yuta’s heart sank, he thought maybe after seeing him for the first time in years you would recognize him. Still, he was thrilled you could see him at all.
“Are you afraid?” the boy asked.
“Should I be?” you retorted.
He chuckled. “No, not of me at least.” He grinned.
This was the second time he made your heart do flips in the span of 30 seconds. His smile was enchanting. It made you feel safe, warm, and again- he seemed oh so familiar. You felt like you could trust him with your life, and you had no idea why.
You couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Good. I’m y/n.” You said, reaching out your hand.
Yuta stared at your hand for a minute before he took it in his and lifted it to his lips. You were taken aback, expecting a handshake. He pressed a kiss to the back on your hand while keeping eye contact with you. You gasped slightly, his hands felt cool, but his lips were warm. His gaze was so intense compared to moments ago, and it sent shivers up your spine.
“I know. I’ve known you since you were quite small.” He smiled as he straightened up again. “I’m Yuta, I’m the spirit that lives in this house.”
“Well Yuta, it’s nice to finally know you. How can I see you?” You asked
“Very few humans can at your age, usually it’s just children.” Yuta explained.
“I see.” You reached out to touch his face. “May I?”
Yuta nodded. You gently touched his cheek, it felt like a thick, cool air. He lifted his hand to cover yours. You noticed you could see your hand through his shifty one. “Can you feel anything?” You asked curiously.
“Barely, I can only feel warmth, but no sensation like I did when I was alive.” He said flatly.
“Wow.” You said, astonished that you were actually speaking to a fully materialized spirit.
Yuta chuckled at your child-like wonder. “You know you don’t have to go through with it.” He said after a short silence.
“What?” You say, puzzled. “You heard that?”
Yuta smiled shyly. “Yeah, most of it.” He said fidgeting with his hands. He then looked up at you with wide eyes. “Not that I eavesdrop or watch you all the time- I just- well- “ He began to panic. You laughed and reached up to “touch” his shoulder comfortingly.
“Don’t worry- I don’t think you’re a pervert.” You said, giggling.
Yuta sighed. “Oh, good. I didn’t realize that sounded rather creepy.” He laughed nervously.
You laugh again. “I’m glad there’s someone I can get along with around here. I would tell you to make yourself at home but you were here long before me.” You turned to pick up some of the fallen books and start putting them back in their respective places.
Yuta leaned his shoulder against the shelf with his arms crossed, smiling fondly at you as you move around the room, going on about the different books you’ve been reading. I felt like no time had passed, like everything was right in the world again.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ • ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 
From that day forward, Yuta became your confidant. Being as you were the only one that could see him, you figured there was no harm in telling him all of your secrets, fears, and dreams. On top of that, there was something about Yuta that felt incredibly safe. Even if he were alive, he would still be your closest friend.
If you spent a lot of time alone before, it was like you were a hermit now. You really left the library, and sometimes it even sounded like you were talking to yourself. Your mother pressed her ear to the large wooden door, curious as to who you were talking to.
“That girl, she worries me.” She said, knowing for a fact you were alone in there.
Despite the growing concern of your parents, you were the happiest you had been in a long time. Yuta was always with you, he made you belly laugh until your ribs hurt, always wanted you to read him your stories, and he told you stories from when he was alive.
“I am 125 years old you know.” he said after he finished telling you about his childhood.
“You don’t look a day over 25.” You said sarcastically.
“Oh stop, you make my blush.” He said exaggerating his gestures.
“If you could even blush.” You quipped
He feigned a shocked gasp. “How rude Miss Y/n. I thought you were a lady.” Yuta fired back with a smirk.
You snickered. “If being a lady means I have no sense of humor, then I’m no lady.”
Yuta chuckled at you, your unapologetic attitude was one of the things he adored about you. His gaze lingered for a bit as you concentrated on the book in your hands.
“You know you don’t have to go through with it.” He said suddenly changing the subject.
You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?”
“You don’t have to marry that pompous ass if you don’t want to.” He clarified.
You scoffed. “Yuta, you of all people should know the world doesn’t work like that.” Your eyes went back to your book.
“I wish we would have lived at the same time.” Yuta’s voice suddenly became softer.
You looked up to meet Yuta’s eyes- they could be so intense sometimes. Words were suddenly lost on you, your lips parted but nothing escaped. You were suddenly aware of the proximity of his face to yours. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, then tracing your jaw with his finger until he reached your chin. You felt goosebumps erupt on your arms, the cool air suddenly making you shiver.
Yuta noticed and pulled his hand away. “Sorry.” he breathed. “I forget how cold I am.” He said sadly, his eyes downcast.
You gently brought you hands up to his face, causing him to meet your eyes. He looked surprised.
“Me too.” you said quietly. “Maybe in another life, I wouldn’t mind being stuck with you for a husband.” You smiled.
Yuta’s face lit up with a huge grin that reached his eyes. He laughed breathily.
“I suppose this would be a good time to tell you I have loved you since you were small.” He brought a hand up to hold yours against his face. “But I’ve been in love with you since you’ve grown up into the beautiful person you are now.”
There was a moment of pause as you stared in the galaxies that seemed to be swirling in his eyes. All you could hear was your breathing growing shallower and your blood rushing in your ears. He was perfect.
Now or never.
You leaned in slowly, as if being magnetically pulled. Your lips hovered over his; he stayed still. Both of your eyes were half-mast as you stared at each other’s lips.
He pulled away.
You deflated. Yuta kept his gaze down. “I can’t.” He said in a thin voice. “And why not?” you retorted. He met your eyes with his glassy ones. “If I am going to kiss you- of which I want nothing more- I want to be able to feel you, and you me. You deserve that.”
“I don’t care Yuta. You have already given me what I know I will never have in this life.” You breathed, feeling tears begin to prick your eyes. “I love you.”
Yuta blanched at your words. He had gone too far, let his own selfish desires to be with you again get in the way. If you really wanted to be with him, what was the cost? He could never give you what you wanted from him. “You deserve someone who can give you a real life, a human one.”
You stood up abruptly with your back to him. The tears that had been gathering in your eyes spilled over, suddenly it was hard to breathe. Why was he doing this? You spun around to face him. “Then why?” you said with a shaky voice. “Why did do all of this? If you knew all along that you loved me why would you wait until the moment I realized that I loved you too to break my heart?!” Your voice began to rise as you spoke.
Yuta looked at you with a helpless look on his face. “I’m sorry.” was all he could choke out before his head fell into his hands and he began to sob. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his any longer before rushing out of the room.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ • ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 
You hadn’t seen Yuta in weeks. You barely spoke, your appetite was all but gone, and you cried nearly every night. You had forgotten how lonely it all was before him. You had become completely apathetic to your situation, allowing the your betrothal to become official. The wedding was in a week, and you were dragged to countless meetings with your dress designer, dance lessons, and wedding plans that your mother was far more excited about than you were. You spent any other time you had locked away in your room writing. At least in the world of your own creation, the heroine was able to have the life you wanted. She could have a career, travel the world, walk along the streets of big cities, and still have the love of a lifetime without having to sacrifice a single thing.
One day, you sat at your writing desk by the tall window, watching your tears fall to the paper below in soft patters. You looked up into the mirror, you didn’t even recognize yourself anymore. You were frail and your skin had taken on a dull sallowness. You could feel yourself slipping, the constant despair causing your to fray at the seams. You closed you eyes for a moment before opening them to see a head of silvery hair standing behind you. His eyes were just as doe-like as ever- they looked at you with such sadness. With a sharp gasp you turned only to find nobody behind you. You looked back to the mirror to see only yourself reflected back at you. There was no way of knowing if you imagined it or if he was really there. It all became too much, and with a pained scream you shattered the mirror in front of you with your fists.
Where is he?
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ • ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 
Despite the fussing of everyone around you and your mother’s scolding, your lacerated hands hardly concerned you. You sat in your nightgown still, in your usually chair by the window in the library. You fiddled with your bandages on your hands before one of the house attendants had come in.
“Miss Y/n?” he spoke softly.
You quickly snapped out of your trance, “Yes?”.
“A letter for you, miss.” He said as he handed you a small envelope with a seal.
You offered him a small smile, “Thank you.”
Your literature professor had told you to send off one of your stories to a publishing company in New York City. You eyed the wax seal on the envelope, and broke it.
𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝑀𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝒴/𝓃,
𝒲𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓊𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓊𝓈𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓅𝓉, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀. 𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒴𝑜𝓇𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓅𝓊𝒷𝓁𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁. 𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓊𝓈 𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝓁𝓎 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉. 𝐻𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃.
𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓂 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈,
𝐸𝓁𝒾𝓏𝒶𝒷𝑒𝓉𝒽 𝒮𝓉𝑒𝒾𝓃, 𝐸𝒹𝒾𝓉𝑜𝓇 𝒾𝓃 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝒻
Holy shit. You thought, quickly folding up the letter and going to your room to hide it in your desk drawer. This was surreal, never did you think you could actually get published- by one of the largest publishers in the country no less. Your wedding was in a week, what could you possibly do about it now? You slightly cursed yourself for being so resigned about your engagement. Until you remembered Yuta’s words:
“You don’t have to do it you know, I think you know that too. You could leave it all behind and be perfectly fine on your own.”
You turned to your bed to pull out a large suitcase, throwing it open before shoving every possession you could fit inside. Your life wasn’t here, especially now that Yuta had gone. You thought of your family- their disappointment. Your mother’s you could deal with, but when your mind crossed your father there was a slight tinge of guilt. You paused your movements for a moment. He understood you, and he always stood up for you when your mother would get particularly overbearing. Still, you knew he wouldn’t stop the engagement. You snapped out of your trance and continued to pack until were interrupted by a knock at your door.
You jumped at the sudden noise, suddenly aware you could be discovered. “Yes?” you called.
“Supper is ready Miss” someone said from the other side of the door. “Be right there!” you shouted.
Shit. You thought. You quickly shut your suitcase- which took a fair amount if effort due to how utterly stuffed it was. Shoving it under the bed, you fixed your slightly disheveled hair and left your room to meet your parents who were already sitting at the dining table.
“You look flushed, dear.” Your mother commented upon looking at your face. “Is everything alright?” She asked while sipping her wine.
“Yes, mother. It’s just rather chilly today.” You lied. You father just looked at you with a raised eyebrow before going back to pouring his own wine.
You were on edge the whole time, your leg constantly bouncing while mindlessly pushing food around your plate. You could barely stomach the idea of food due to house nervous you were. You were making your escape tonight, you thought. All you have to do is wait till dark. As soon as supper was over you quickly excused yourself and shoved your chair back before leaving the room without another word.
“She has barely said a word for weeks.” Your mother said lowly. “What on earth has gotten into her.”
“She wasn’t meant for this life.” You father mumbled. “She’s far too smart and stubborn.” You mother continued to watch the door where you had walked out. Her eyes narrowed before she finished her wine. “I blame you.” She said bitterly.
You rushed to the library to gather the few books you new you couldn’t live without. You dashed around the room, stacking them in your arms before you came to your usual spot by the window. You looked at the scattered books and your scrapped pieces of your writing. Your eyes stopped on a small drawing you had sketched while you and Yuta were spending one your usual days lazing around the library. He was facing you, his gaze turned out the window in front of him. Though you’re no artist and you could never do his angelic features justice, you could still very clearly remember the scene. You stuffed it in your pocket before heading back to your room to get the rest of your things together. For the first time in your life you had never felt so sure of something. Although you might never see Yuta again, he could never leave your memory- no amount of distance nor the passage of time could change that.
You bittersweetly smiled to yourself as you made your way down the hall to your room. You struggled to open the door with all the books in your arms and barely noticed someone sitting on the chair at your desk.
Your mother.
She was holding the letter.
All of the breath left your lungs, there was an icy feeling in the pit of your stomach. All of the hope you had deflated in a matter of seconds.
“After all I’ve done.” Your mother started, still staring at the letter. “You still are adamant on destroying our family.”
There was silence for a several moments. You had tolerated her snide remarks and constant distaste for everything that made you happy. You played along with her ideas for your entire life, and for what?
“No, mother.” you said in a low voice. “You are adamant on destroying me.”
Your mother quickly stood up and rushed over to you. “How could you be so selfish?!” She seethed, her face just inches from yours. “Do you honestly expect that you could survive in this world all on your own? Don’t you know that isn’t possible for us?!” She said in a mix of anger and tears.
“Just because you gave up on your dreams doesn’t mean you can get in the way of mine.” You said in a flat, low voice.
Your mother shook with rage and tears before she pushed past you and stopped with her hand on your door handle. “I will not have my family be a laughing stock just because you have silly delusions. You will stay in this room until the wedding if that’s what it takes.” She spat before slamming the door.
“NO!”  You heard the faint sound of a lock from the outside. You slammed on the wooden door with your fists in rage until it eventually turned into tears of frustration. You eventually slumped against the door, exhausted.
Hours passed and shadows stretched across your room as the sun sank into the earth. The only light coming from the small lamp in your room. Everything was numb, all your fight had left you. You leaned back against the cool wood of your door, still sat the same spot you slumped in. You let out a sigh before felt yourself falling backward. You yelped as the door opened behind you and you fell  out into the hallway.
“What the hell-“ you began before you looked up.
Yuta.
You stared for a few seconds in disbelief thinking it was just another one of your hallucinations. Yuta’s brows were knitted as he stared down at you.
“Well? Don’t just lie there, you don’t have much time.” He said. You looked at him quizzically before it dawned on you: he was helping you escape. Yuta seemed to notice your moment of clarity and offered his signature smile. You got yourself off the floor and looked him in the eyes. Tears pricked your eyes as you smiled at him. Without really thinking you threw your arms around him, and you were surprised to feel warmth rather than the coolness of his shifty figure. It didn’t quite feel like a typical hug, but more like being enveloped in warmth.
“I missed you.” Was all you could say. You both stayed there for a few moments before you felt his warmth pull away from you.
“I never left.” He said with a warm grin. “Now hurry up, lady. I don’t pick locks for just anybody.” He winked.
You grinned widely before running off to grab all of your things. It was probably just before dawn by the looks of it, Yuta lead you to a small doorway that you had never seen before. “This was how I sneaked out.” He told you. You huffed in amusement before grabbing a hold of the handle, it was old and probably hadn’t been opened in years. You had to use all of your strength to slide it open, it was slowly beginning to inch open before you heard a voice.
“Y/n.”
You jumped and fell backward before looking up to see your father with an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart was leaping out of your chest, you looked around and saw Yuta standing next to you with a panicked expression on his face. If you weren’t screwed before, you definitely were now. \
“Where do you think you’re going?” He said in a grave voice before walking over to you. He helped you off the floor, and you kept your eyes glued to them.
“Without this?” He continued. Your eyes snapped up to see him holding an envelope. You met this eyes with your brows knit together, utterly confused.
You took it from him and opened it. Inside it was a train ticket and some cash. Your mouth fell open before you looked back up at your father who was smiling fondly. He took your face in his hands and gingerly kissed your forehead before meeting your eyes with his glassy ones.
“Go.” He said with a wide, proud smile.
You kissed his cheek before telling him you loved him and that you would write when you got to New York before you scurried out the door. You came out the other side to see the garden just outside your favorite window by the library. You took a deep inhale of the crisp morning air and saw the sky begin to tinge with orange as the sun began to rise. You opened your eyes to see the window open and Yuta staring at you with a fond look on his face. Despite your joy, your heart deflated when you made the realization.
Yuta would probably never see him again. You ran over to him placing both your hands on the window sill as he leaned down on his elbows. “Come with me.” You said through the tears painting your cheeks. Yuta gave you a sad chuckle before he reached his hand out to your face. You leaned into the warmth and closed your eyes. “I can’t.” You voice broke. “Not without you.” You opened your eyes to meet his and scanned his features for a moment, desperately trying to engrain his beautiful face in your memory. The sunlight shone faintly through his slightly transparent figure, giving him an ethereal glow.
He was the first to break the silence. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll see you again soon.” You were confused. “How?” you asked.
He chuckled again. “I’ve waited a hundred years to meet you, what’s another few decades?” You smiled at his jest. Yuta brought his hands to your face, they felt almost real this time. “Go, I want you to live. Be the heroine in your stories. Go on adventures. Break hearts. Feel heartbreak. Laugh till you can’t breathe. Feel it all, the greatest joy and the deepest pain. Write your stories. Then, after you’re old and grey and it’s time for you to leave this world, you can tell me all about it.” You let out a shaky laugh between your sobs, never had you felt more pain and love at the same time. Yuta leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. This time, you swore you could feel the plushness of his lips and his fingertips grazing your jaw and neck. You felt his pull away and opened your eyes to meet his. They never failed to put you in a trance.
“I love you.” You said in a voice just above a whisper. You saw his pupils dilate as he heard your words.
“If you only knew how much I loved you.” He said with the most beautiful smile that lit up his eyes like stars.
“Now beat it, you have a train to catch.” He joked. You chuckled. You abruptly turned to leave to save yourself from further torture. You ran across the meadow to your horse. You strapped down your things and hoisted yourself up before taking one last look at the window. Yuta was still there, he gave you a small wave. “See you soon.” You whispered before spurring your horse forward into a brisk run.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ • ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ 
Snow fell softy outside your window, the city took on a unique charm during the winter. The lights glittered and the people bustled down below, never stopping for a heartbeat. You looked around your home that you had called your own for decades. There was a piece of you here that would never leave, given you had written some of the most bestselling novels in history within these walls. All of the fame had made for an extraordinary life, but even in the moments of utter chaos time would slow to a crawl when he would cross your mind.
Over the years you wondered if it was all your imagination and if you ever actually would see him again. You reached to the side of your bed and picked up a small compact you kept with you all the time. You opened it to find the drawing of Yuta you had made all those years ago, it was your only way to remember his face as the years went by. Then you looked over to the mirror in the other side and saw your face. You were no longer the youth you once were, you looked over the way time had wore over your face. You smiled, it was proof you had kept your promise to Yuta, or leaving it all behind would have been for nothing.
You closed the locket and held it to your chest as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep. It felt strange like, you were being enveloped in warmth, the noises around you starting to blur and echo, as if you were under water. You heard a voice whisper right before everything turned black.
You woke with a gasp. It felt as though you had slipped into a deep ocean and couldn’t stop yourself until all of the sudden you were brought back to the surface. The room your were in was flooded with sunlight and you squinted as your eyes adjusted. What soon came into focus was the library from your family home. Everything was the same, except it felt different. Lighter, dreamier, as if time didn’t really move here. Looking down at your hands, they were no longer veiny and wrinkled from time, but youthful again. You turned your head to the window, a boy sat there. A boy with silver hair. As if he knew you had spotted him, he turned his head to meet your eyes. He smiled as if he was expecting you.
Yuta.
He stood up as you ran to him and nearly knocked him over as you embraced. He  was real, you could feel his solid form as you buried your face in the hair that dusted his neck. He smelled exactly how you imagined and he was so, so warm. You felt the vibrations of his low laugh as you clung to him desperately. He pulled back to look at your face before he kissed you, gently brushing his thumb along your neck where his hold was. You were finally home.
You pulled away from each other before letting out a giggle. “I have so much to tell you.” You said. He smiled. Not a thing about him had changed.
“And I can’t wait to hear all of it.”  
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Arcane
Ø  Meaning: Secret, Mysterious, Understood only by few. MAGIC
Ø  Pairing: Panther Hybrid Min Yoongi x Reader
Ø  Summary: Some secrets are kept for the good of people. Some secrets are kept for abuse or power. Yoongi had been a victim of abuse and power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else use secrets for that purpose. So, when Y/N comes into his life with secrets, he doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole again. He doesn’t want to give all his trust to someone who will abuse their power over him. But maybe Y/N’s secrets are a good thing.
Ø  Genre: Hybrid!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut
Ø  Warnings: None
Ø  Word Count: 1897
Ø  A/N: Hey guys… this is my first Min Yoongi fic!! After finally finishing my first ever BTS fic, GOLDEN TIME, I started working on this one!! If you haven’t noticed, I really love Hybrid stories and I seem to love writing them just as much!!! So, I really hope you guys love and support this fic like you did with GOLDEN TIME!! If you want to be added to a tag list, message me or leave a comment or ask!! Thank you so much!!
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Training a house dog was one thing. Walking around parks and seeing them full of dogs playing and learning to sit, come, stay, roll over was something rather cute.
What wasn’t cute was walking past those same parks to see full grown adult hybrids learning the same tricks as dogs. They may have animal genetics, they may have eats and a tail, and some attributes of their animal counterpart. Yet, it gives no proper reasoning as to why hybrids needed to be trained to sit, stay, come, roll over for a treat like they were lesser.
Hybrids might have been part animal, but they were also part human. A small detail lots of humans seemed to miss themselves.
Y/N walked through the park, having slipped away from her overbearing parents 30 minutes ago, loving being by herself. Even though it was loud, children running and playing, their parents running and shouting after them, hybrids playing with children, dogs running around. There was so much noise, so much around her, and yet it was the most at peace Y/N had been in months.
She was never allowed this type of freedom, not since she was a kid, and so she basked in the walk alone. The rays of the sun warming her up as she stood in the middle of the grassy area, head raised to the sun, eyes closed. The light cardigan over the dress she wore in the summer breeze moved as she looked around, happy to be alone, even for a while.
“HEY, I SAID SIT YOU STUPID ANIMAL!”
A rather loud, high pitched shout caused Y/N to open her eyes. Y/N blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the bright light of the sun, only to catch the ending of a tall woman hitting a hybrid.
From where Y/N stood she could make out small golden ears on top of the hybrids head, the same colour of the mop of golden hair on the hybrids head. A long golden tail wrapped around the hybrids own thigh as the hybrid curled in on themselves, their hands moving up to cover their face.
The hybrid was obviously scared, and it was even more obvious that no one was going to help the hybrid. Human and hybrids alike just looked as the woman punished her hybrid for not listening to her before looking away. Y/N noticed some hybrids, the closer ones and younger ones looked at the hybrid sympathetically, but the whole world knew that no one could help the poor hybrid. Like Y/N, all they could do was watch, before turning away herself.
Moving off the grass, Y/N followed the path to the edge of the park, joining the crowded streets of people. Y/N only had so much time to herself before her parents found her again, and that was an argument she could wait for. After all, this was the reason she had convinced her parents of this trip to the city, having planned the whole trip out.
Checking her watch as she moved across the street, Y/N only had 3 more hours before she had to meet her parents back at the hotel. She was already setting something up that would undoubtedly give her parents some type of heart attack, the least she could do was be on time.
Well as on time as a daughter can be in adopting a hybrid without her parents knowing she would.
Following the GPS on her phone, Y/N finally made it to the shelter, quickly opening the door. She was welcomed by a lively room, what was obviously once white walls were now covered in pictures of hundreds of hybrids. Some playing by themselves, some obviously posing for the camera and some with the biggest smile and humans, just having been adopted. The people in the room seemed to be just as lively, smiles and laughter coming from everywhere.
Y/N could tell who worked at the shelter, the purple shirts with the words “HOPE Sanctuary” on the back told her just that. It seemed there was a small family who had just happily adopted a dog hybrid, from the looks of it the young hybrid must have been the same age as the son he currently played with. There was also an elderly couple who had just adopted a cat hybrid, the younger feline standing next to the elder woman who gave the hybrid such a warm grandmotherly smile.
“Excuse me?” A voice spoke from behind Y/N. “Can I help you?”
A young woman stood next to Y/N; the purple shirt she wore matched the purple hair she sported. She was beautiful, the smile on her face was infectious, the soft dimples making her look that much younger. Y/N could tell she enjoyed working here, it was always good to see that there were humans like her that only wanted the best for hybrids.
“Hi yes. I called a few days ago about adopting a hybrid?” Y/N recalled the conversation she had with a very cheerful man.
“Ah yes, the older hybrid, right?” The woman’s eyes seemed to spark something. “If you would just take a seat, I will go get the owner.”
“Oh okay, thank you.” Y/N bowed her head  before moving to sit in one of the chairs.
Sitting on one of the free chairs, Y/N’s phone buzzed, reaching into her handbag to check the screen. She breathed a sigh of relief, thanking every god she could think of it wasn’t her parents. It was just a reminder, a needed reminder, but just a reminder to take her medication.
It was a simple enough task, one she did willingly, taking the small tablets then the water in the bottle she always carried around. She may not like it, she may not like the effects of them, and she may not like how her parents treated her like some child. But at 24 years old, she knew when to argue about something, and when to accept her fate and do as she’s told.
“Hello, Miss Y/L/N?” A familiar voice made Y/N look up as she screwed the lid tightly on her water bottle. “I’m Jung Hoseok, but please, J-Hope is what everyone calls me. I believe we talked on the phone.”
“Yes, Mr. Jung…” Y/N caught his eyebrow raise before laughing a little as she stood, taking the man’s hand in a handshake. “J-Hope.”
“Would you follow me to my office?” J-Hope gestured towards an office door, and with a nod they both moved towards it. “Can I just say, when we got your call that you were interested in one of our older hybrids, I just had to take your case personally.”
“Oh?”
“It’s nothing to be worried about, trust me.” J-Hope smiled widely, letting Y/N know he was excited. “It’s just when it comes to hybrids, people normally go for the younger children or even teens. I worry about the older hybrids, and unfortunately any hybrid over the age of 21 is considered old.”
“Really?” That was news to Y/N, her eyes wide as she took a seat opposite J-Hope.
With a sad nod from J-Hope, he moved some paperwork around, obviously finding the right stack; “So when you said you had interest in older hybrids, I just knew it was a case I had to take.” He finally found the right stack of paper with a small sound of approval. “We currently have 6 older hybrids here and I would love you to meet them all. Though with 2 of them unavailable you will only be meeting 4 of them.”
“What species of hybrids are they?” Y/N sat up straight in her chair, intrigued and happy. “The ones I’ll be meeting at least.”
“Two dog hybrids, a fox hybrid and a cat hybrid.” J-Hope looked up and smiled as he handed over 4 files to Y/N. “These are everything about them, you can read them first or you can meet them first, which ever you choose first.”
Looking down at the 4 files, she quickly flipped through them, a picture on the front of each yellow file. All 4 hybrids were males, first was a golden retriever hybrid, sandy blonde hair, the same colour as his floppy ear. He had a boxy smile, large eyes that shone brightly and he seemed to have been playing in mud as the picture was taken. Mud covered his clothes, parts of his face and hair had muddy stains, he seemed to be having a great time, even in the picture.
The second was a German Sheppard hybrid, large ears stood tall, tan and black, his head was tilted to the side. He looked to have been caught off guard, a book sat on his lap, his mouth opened slightly. He looked tall, even sitting on what looked to be his bed, his large hands looked like they wanted to move up to block the camera from taking his picture. There was a small note on the front of his file “Would be best suited for someone who lives close to the outdoors.”
Third was a very handsome hybrid. Anyone could tell that hybrid or not, he was truly very handsome, his black hair matched his shorter black ears. His eyes bore into the camera it seemed, welcoming anyone who looked at the picture. His smile was almost childlike compared to his eyes, his lips looked so soft and pink and honestly Y/N could stare at them all day. Y/N saw that he was the oldest of the 4 hybrids, and yet he could easily be mistaken for so much younger than his age.
The final file was of the only feline hybrid in the pile. A hand covered most of the view of the hybrid, but from what she could see was a pair of intense eyes. They looked almost black, his hand covered one of them, but still they drew her in, if not making her shiver. His hair was jet black, as were his small ears, in the light of the photo there was almost purple streaks. There was a small note left for him too; “If he is not adopted in the next 6 months, he must be signed up for the breeding program.”
“Um… could I meet them maybe?” Y/N lifted her gaze up from the feline hybrid. “I just… I think I would feel a lot better if I was able to meet them before making a decision.”
“Of course, you can. Would you like to meet them all together, or one at a time?”
“I think it would be better one at a time.” Y/N moved the files to sit on her knees.
“Perfect choice.” J-Hope stood. “Follow me and I’ll take you to a meeting room.”
Soon J-Hope had set Y/N up in a room, large windows that completely illuminated the room, two comfortable looking chairs and a table between them. J-Hope had left to go get the first hybrid as Y/N paced a little around the room. She was scared to meet them, but she was more scared of walking out of the shelter without a hybrid.
It was the one thing in her life that she truly needed right now, she needed independence. A hybrid would give her that. 
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Tag List
@ariana-winchester95​ | @haven-raven012591​ | @gracehiii​ | @larenelizabeth​ | @legazix​ | @jiminot7​ | @narcissism-iskey​
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gophergal · 3 years
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So, I started this oneshot in January, as I mentioned to @bucketofcowboys, but only just finished it a couple days ago. Is this something y'all follow me for? Not in the slightest, but oh well, you're in my circle of hell now. Enjoy? I guess? I don't know, dudes, I'm not your boss.
What Ever Happens
Word Count: 3,000+ | Rating: T+ | Fem!Vault Dweller x Ian (Fallout 1) | M/F
The sun beamed down on the scorched earth surrounding Ash, making the air oppressively hot as she trekked through the sands. It was the total opposite of the cool, clean vault she'd grown up in, with it's artificial lights, cramped spaces, and tight knit community. Though, the more she learned of the wasteland, the more she came to know that the communities were just as close knit, but not by force. There was a liveliness to this world that was so unlike her own. Still, she found herself yearning to be back home, before she took her first steps out here. She squinted as another bead of sweat threatened to fall into her eye, releasing her grip on her pack of supplies to wipe it away.
Yes, the desert was a wasteland, a far cry from her home, but it had one thing the vault could never claim. Ian, her traveling companion, the strong and loyal man that had saved her ass on more than one occasion. Even when he had gruffly criticized her for the way she handled a gun, his large hands were gentle as he corrected her grip on the weapon. He was wasteland bred and born, and it showed in the scars that littered his tanned skin. Had he refused to travel with her, she'd surely have perished, along with all of the residents of her vault. As if on cue, Ian turned slightly to look at her, frowning. She stopped staring, averting her eyes slightly.
“So, what's the plan, vaultie?” He asked. Ash struggled for a moment, looking for something to say. She hadn't thought about it after the Overseer had given her a new task, not the entire time she and Ian had begun walking in the direction of Shady Sands, the small village east of the vault She had other matters on her mind, but finally she spoke.
“I guess the best thing would be to resupply and ask around. We don't exactly know where they're all coming from,” she replied, shrugging as she looked in the direction of the town.
“Yeah,” he said, resuming his march onward, “we don't want a repeat of what happened in Necropolis.”
Ash could agree with that. Their time in Necropolis had been fine, up until it went to hell in a hand-basket, that is. Sure, they both got out of it alive, but it had been by pure luck that neither of them caught the business end of a flamer and been killed. Next time, up against even more super mutants, they may not be so lucky.
“Besides,” he began, “we have to pick up Dogmeat. The poor mutt's probably been missing you a hell of a lot while we've been in the vault.”
They'd left the dog in the care of Tandi, the daughter of Shady Sands' leader, while they took the water chip to the overseer due to the vault's “no animals” policy. Dogmeat had whined pitifully when Ash had commanded him to stay put, but obeyed as he was loyal to his master. In truth, she was quite happy to be back out in the wasteland. If she hadn't, she would have never have the chance to wish her beloved canine goodbye.
She nodded in agreement, tightening her grip on her pack, “You lead the way.” Ian rolled his eyes at her and set the pace of their trip.
***
The walk back to Shady Sands had been uneventful. Even rad scorpions seemed to avoid their path, though that may have been due in part to the destruction they caused to their nest. As they walked, Ash stole glances at her companion, watching the way that his muscles shifted as he moved. The way that his hair was mussed by the slight dry breeze. His face was set in it's usual blank half-frown that made his emotions hard to read. She supposed that it came with growing up out here, remembering how her own expressive nature had caused trouble for them more than once. Suppressing a sigh, she stared ahead, watching as their destination grew larger in the distance.
Upon entering the settlement, Dogmeat bound up to his owner, leaping on to her and knocking her down. He licked her face, tail wagging wildly. Ash laughed, petting the dog as she got to her feet and dusted herself off. The two guards cracked a smile slightly, then stood at attention once again. Tandi greeted the two back happily, surprised to see the vault dweller back at all.
“What are you doing back, Ash?”
“I- well, the Overseer had something else he needed me to do before I return for good. It'll take some time to complete though, so the wasteland isn't rid of me yet,” she joked.
“Pity. You sure have raised hell out here. I'm glad to see you again though.:
The two young women chatted for a while in the shade, hiding from the sun that hung high in the sky, beating down on the desert. That same harsh sun slowly made it's journey through the sky as the day drew on. Ash startled when a hand grabbed her bicep, her free hand reflexively reaching for the pistol that hung off her hip. She let out a breath, relaxing instantly when she realized that it was just Ian, trying to get her attention.
“We should probably stay here for tonight. We'll head to Junktown in the morning. We'll see if Killian knows anything that could help us,” he said.
She nodded her agreement, following him to the dwelling that he used to stay in while he lived in Shady Sands. It was actually the home of Seth, the man who guarded the settlement's gate during the day. He'd been so generous as to share his space with the two for the night. However, it really showed that it was not built for three people to sleep in the small room. A standard sized bed and low cot were in the room, generally enough space for two people to rest, but tricky when a third was added in. Ash suddenly felt as though she was intruding greatly on the man's space. It was Seth who insisted that she or Ian take the bed while he took the cot, it was just for one night, after all.
“I'll go ahead and sleep on the floor, you take the bed,” Ash told her companion, gesturing toward the bed. The look on his face foretold the argument that was about to go down. They stared each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. A battle between two stubborn survivors. Their focus broken by a harsh sigh from the cot.
“Just share the bed or something. I have to wake up early tomorrow and I'm not staying up all night while you two act like children,” Seth complained.
Embarrassed, Ash flashed him an apologetic smile and looked back to Ian, who shrugged. They stripped off their bulky armor, keeping their weapons nearby, they slipped into the bed, hanging slightly off the sides in a shared effort to give one other space out of respect.
After an hour or so of trying to sleep, Ash opened her eyes to look at her traveling companion. With the little light that came through the window, she could see him quite clearly. It was rare to see him look so relaxed, even at rest like this. The way his dark locks fell into his face tempted her to push them back, but decided not, sighing softly. She'd only known him for a couple months now,and yet she trusted him with her life. He was one of the first people she met when she stepped foot outside of Vault 13, a somewhat friendly face in such a hostile environment.
At this proximity, she could easily make out the creases on his tanned face. The world outside the vault really would age people fast, she noticed. It was something she'd heard in the vault, but she now could see first hand that it was true. Studying his features, the blemishes that peppered the surface of his skin, his dark lashes, Ash's heart ached. The feeling became more intense with every moment they spent together, every fight they won, each time they grew closer.
Her eyes flicked shut as she recalled the shootout in Necropolis. The sulfurous smell of expended bullets hung heavy in the air, as did the smothering heat of the flamer. Standing face to face with the super mutant who threatened to reduce her to her namesake, Ash desperately tried to dodge out of the way. As the flames began to lick toward her body, scorching the surface of her vault suit, she was pushed out of the way, Ian's strong body shielding her against the flames that that jut forth. It gave her just enough time to land a killing shot on the big green bastard. Ian's jacket was ruined, but it protected him against the worst of the burn.
Does it still hurt, she wondered, recalling how he stopped allowing her to care for his wound after it closed. It surely would scar, she told him as much, only for him to shrug in response. It really was different out here. In the vault, scars were strange, tragic, worthy of ridicule, or all three at once. In the wastes, they were part of life. A mark to show that you'd survived. Still, she wondered. Did he regret it? Taking an everlasting mark on his flesh, and all the agonizing pain associated, all for her? What did she even mean to him? Ash fell asleep, knowing she wouldn't have her questions answered. Not now, maybe never.
The walk to Junktown was longer and more quiet than usual. When they camped for the night, watch duty was traded wordlessly. Usually, they'd have some sort of banter, but the thoughts swirling in Ash's mind refused to let up. She had questions, goddammit All these questions and no way to ask. She watched the glowing embers of their small fire as though they could help her understand. Deciding she wouldn't find contentment in the hot, orange glow of fire, she settled on the stars instead. They were something else she'd need to savor while she could, whether she died or returned to the vault, she would never get another chance.
***
Killian Darkwater didn't know anything about the super mutants or where they were coming from. That's what he told the duo at least, and they were inclined to believe him. Outside, Ash swore and stomped her foot on the ground in frustration, scaring Dogmeat, who cowered behind Ian. She sighed.
“This hasn't led us anywhere,” she complained.
“We haven't asked around the Hub yet, so chill the fuck out. Killian doesn't have a lead, so what?”
“Easy for you to say, you're just following me for the money,” she huffed, the heat and disappointment making her irritable. Ian furrowed his brow.
“That's bullshit and you know it, Ash. Do you seriously think I'd risk my ass for you just for the money? I'm not a fucking bodyguard,” he spat.
“I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that you could leave at any time you want. I have to do this.”
“Do you want me to leave?” He asked in earnest, anger quieting down a bit.
“No- I just- Oh, fuck it. Let's just drop this. I don't have it in me to argue right now,” she said, cradling her forehead with a hand. With that, the two walked to the Crash House, deciding to rent a room for the night. Ash wiped the sweat from herself with a damp cloth, then returned to the room, sitting on the other side of the bed from Ian, who was cleaning his gun, making sure all the pieces fit back nicely. 'Take care of your gun and it'll take care of you', he told her when they first started traveling together. She did the same, slower and more clumsily. With the final piece of her weapon clicking into place, she rested it on the nightstand. From behind her, she heard a cough.
“What's going on with you, vaultie? What the hell did I do to piss you off so badly?” Ian asked. His tone was impatient, almost hurt sounding. It startled Ash.
“Mad at you? What gave you that idea?” She turned to him.
“The cold shoulder, blowing up on me like that. Don't tell me that being a dick is a foreign concept in the vaults.”
“Look, I'm just... damn, I'm just.... confused and scared, Ian,” she said, voice low. Ian faced her, eyebrows knitted in a puzzled look.
“What about? Are you keeping me in the dark for any particular reason?”
Ash flushed, unsure of what to say. The truth was stranger than any lie she could come up with, yet she felt wrong about keeping it from him. She cleared her throat, training her hazel eyes on him.
“Where do we stand? I mean, how you think of me?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“I,” she paused, letting her mind catch up to her mouth, “I just don't know how you feel about me. Am I a bother? It feels too soon for you to think of me as a friend, but I know that I'm fond of you. You're different from everyone I've ever known in the vault. I can't tell how you think of me. Even if you hated me, I'd at least want to know,” she finished. She gripped her knees, feeling very stupid. It was all irrational, she knew it, but she trusted him to understand her. Her heart sank as he chuckled, which he caught soon after.
“No, no, I'm not laughing at you, I swear. Just- damn, the vault really does something to people, huh?”
She tilted her head, urging him to explain.
“Ash, if I hated you, I wouldn't stick around. You may be bull-headed and chatty, but that's charming when it's not getting us shot at.”
“You think I'm charming?”
He shook his head in exasperation. “If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a committed man at this moment. You're beautiful, generally capable, and seem to get along with my stubborn ass. I find you more than just charming.”
She was taken aback, expecting anything other than this. She looked away shyly, “Oh- Wow. Well, I'll admit, I just don't know what to say.”
He rolled his eyes, “You don't have to say anything. We're not children, Ash. We can drop it, finish what we have to do, and go our separate ways at the end of it all, if that's what you want. But at least now you know where you stand.” As he said his piece, disappointment crept into his voice.
“No! I don't want that, not in the least. I feel the same, it's just... I'm being silly.”
“Yeah, you are, but I'm used to it now. I'm not a mind reader though, so you'll need to tell me what you're thinking.”
She scooted closer, resting her hand on his cheek, leaned in. She stopped halfway, waiting for him to move away or to meet her, the settled for pressing her lips to the corner of his carefully, pulling away slowly.
“Does that tell you anything?” She asked.
“Only that you need to speak up,” he responded, grinning devilishly. At that she captured his mouth with her own, tangling a hand in his long dark hair, and kissed him for real. She used more force, encouraged by the hands that came to grip her waist, she moved her lips against his sloppily. She pulled away for air, feeling drunk on the touch.
“Did you hear me now?” she asked, pupils dilated with desire.
“Loud and clear.”
This time, he leaned in, his touch rougher than hers, and he pushed her to lay back on the bed so that his hands rested on either side of her, legs hanging off the other side of the decrepit mattress. Ash's heartbeat quickened as his lips crept lower, down to her jawline, and neck, all the way to the collar of her suit. A sudden moment of nerves gripped her, pushing the want from her mind. She grabbed his wrist, making him look at her.
“I've never done this, Ian,” she said, gripping his arm as if her were a life preserver.
“You're a virgin, then.”
“That too, but I've never been in a relationship. I'm sorry for that, I just don't know if I'm quite comfortable going any further.” His brows raised in surprise at her words.
“We can stop here then, for now. We'll take this slow.”
“Are you sure? It's not weird?”
“Nah, besides, I'm fucking tired,” he smirked, rolling off to his side of the bed. His hand found hers, and they wove their fingers together. “Those vault boys don't know what they're missing out on.”
Mention of her home made Ash's guts twist with a pang of anxiety, and she let out a shaky breath. There was the obvious thought that they both might not survive their newest mission, but pushing that aside there were still issues that they'd need to overcome.
“What happens now? How do we... make this work?” She asked hesitantly.
“One day at a time, I guess.”
“You wouldn't live in the vault, even if Jacoren let you, you wouldn't be happy there.”
“Heh, that's true. I was hoping you'd stay here, with me, if I'm being entirely honest,” he said, squeezing Ash's hand tightly.
“I don't think I can. My family are in the vault. Everyone I've ever known. I just don't believe I could do that to them.” A moment of silence hung heavy in the air, allowing them to hear snippets of conversation and movement in other rooms.
“Then, what ever happens, we'll face it together,” Ian said.
The future would be uncertain, but, as long as possible, they would face it together. Somehow. That night, there was no respectful distance in the shared bed, only comfort and contentment in one another's arms. The air was cool as moonlight streamed through the dusty window.
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beccabarba · 3 years
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Nevada and the Good Girl: Part Two
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(not my GIF, thanks @prurientpuddlejumper​)
This has been written for @thatesqcrush​‘s Kink Bingo, which is turning out to be a brilliant source of inspiration for getting me writing again. And damn if I wasn’t lured into writing for Nevada Ramirez again. Can’t think why...
It’s a stand alone but sort of a continuation of Nevada and the Good Girl that I posted a couple of days ago. That one covered the Spanking square. 
This one is for the Anal square. So, y’know, you have been warned. It’s not subtle. If you don’t want to read about anal penetration, don’t read this. 
Word count: 4598
Warnings: NSFW. Not at all. It’s virtually all smut. Some bad language. Anal penetration, tiny bit of spanking. Use of Papi and some name calling/dirty talk. 
As usual, bad Spanish, British spellings and typos. And the further warning that I’ve not seen Trouble in the Heights, this is my interpretation of the character from all the brilliant fics I’ve read. 
***
You were still not used to sharing a drink with Nevada, Trujillo, King of the Heights, in the heart of his own kingdom; the club he owned and where he held court. You’d not noticed it when you’d first met him, but then you’d not known who he was. Now, you saw how his men lurked in the shadows, ostensibly minding the doors, but also keeping an eye on anyone who came close to their boss. You saw the guns they carried. You heard the respect, maybe even fear, they had for Nevada. And yet, he sat there next to you at the bar, drinking down a Scotch, like there was nothing unusual about any of this. Naively, you’d assumed anyone with a criminal lifestyle would live their life hidden away in dark corners, always looking over their shoulder for the police. But he seemed very comfortable, at ease, with all of this.
He had a new cut above his left eye. It was well healed now, but you’d not seem him for over a month. At first, that had been your choice, forcing yourself to try to go cold turkey, to resist the lure of coming back here. It was humiliating how addictive you found him, how he enjoyed the erotic power he had over you. It was surely not healthy that no one else haunted your dreams, no one else came into your fantasies when you touched yourself alone in your bed? For a month, you’d ignored him, then when you’d finally caved and gone to the club looking for him, he’d not been there. You were told to come back in a couple of weeks. And now, here he was, with a cut above his eye and offering no explanation for where he’d been, no different to the last time you’d seen him. He didn’t seem remotely interested in why you’d not been in touch with him for a month. This wasn’t a relationship after all, and he’d probably had enough other women in that time. You didn’t really want to think about what he did when you weren’t there. What he did with other women, or how he conducted his business. It was much better to be ignorant of both.
“Hey, hermosa, you still with me?” You were startled out of your reverie by Nevada waving a hand in front of your face. You’d not realised you’d tuned out quite so much, as you reflected on the journey that had brought you here; the good girl drinking with the criminal, desperate for him to take your hand and take you to his bed. You smiled at him;
“Sorry, ‘Vada. I was just thinking…” you replied, honestly.
“Anything I’d enjoy?” He gave you a wicked smile.
“Just thinking about me, and you, and me coming here…”
Nevada furrowed his brow, but his green eyes were mischievous. “You mean how you come here for a booty call?” he challenged.
You blushed. “That’s not how it is!” you retorted, though it almost was, you had to admit. “I mean, you were the one who said I could come back anytime.”
Nevada chuckled. “And you’re still here. What is it, nearly eight months?”
You could feel your temperature rising. In all the time you’d been stealing nights in his bed, away from your respectable life, he’d never really challenged you on it, or sought to understand. “Are you saying you don’t want me to…?” you began, but he cut you off, putting a finger to your lips and giving you a sideways smile. With anyone else, you’d have been offended at being silenced. With him, it made something inside you throb.
“Don’t you try to second guess me. I’m just curious, that’s all, mi buena chica…” He was watching the colour rise in your face, the way your pupils were dilating at the mere thought of the sex you’d had, and would probably be having soon, at the feel of his rough finger on your soft, hot lips. “Isn’t there some guy waiting for you in an apartment on the Upper East Side, or in one of those fancy bars? Someone you work with?” He looked you up and down appreciatively. “I mean, surely there’s some guys that’s noticed – this…” he gestured at your body. You were wearing tight black jeans and a forest green velvet top, cut into a low-V neck, that showed off the curve of your breasts, and the valley between them, perfectly. You always felt more confident, physically, when you were coming to visit Nevada. “You know, some guy who wants to actually fucking date you?”
“Are you worried I’ll start looking for more from you, Trujillo? Expect dinner, or tickets to a show?” It started with a challenge, but sounded so ridiculous that you ended up smirking, and were surprised when his face fell slightly.
“I can do romance when I want to,” he protested. “I’m not a fucking animal.”
You reached out a hand to touch his arm, feeling the soft leather of his jacket. You leaned forward, so that your face was close to him and you could speak to him in a whisper, telling him what this conversation had clarified for you, summoning your confidence to do so. “Thing is, Nevada Ramirez, I don’t want you to romance me... I do just want a booty call.” You drew a hesitant breath but filled your words with an honest confidence. “I want you to fuck me and fuck me good. There’s no one else because, for now, I can’t imagine wanting to fuck anyone else. I can’t stop thinking about fucking you when I’m not with you. But I don’t love you and I don’t want anything else. It suits me, and I think it suits you too.” Inspired by the look on his face, you slid your hand from his arm to his leg, running up towards his crotch. Before you reached the bulge of his cock, he grabbed your wrist. His grip was bruising, his eyes burning into yours now. You felt the pulse of arousal in your veins.
“You’re something else, tú lo sabes? Such a good girl but such a filthy slut for me.” He clearly liked the dichotomy. Maybe it was why he wasn’t bored of this game yet, even after eight months. “Do you think of me, Y/N?” he demanded. “At night, when you pleasure yourself? Is it me in your head?” He seemed very aroused by the idea. “Tell me,” he growled. His hand was still around your wrist and you felt both his grip tighten and his temperature climbing. You were certain he’d feel your heart pounding.
“Yes, I think about you. I think about what we’ve done, and what I want to do. I imagine my fingers are yours…” You stopped, as someone walked by, a bit too close. Then Nevada took your hand in his, tracing patterns on your palm and along your fingers with a gentle touch. It sent waves of pleasure through your whole body.
He leaned forward. “I want to know the filthiest thing you’ve thought about us doing, mi pequeña puta. I want you to tell me here, in this bar full of people. And maybe I’ll make your filthy fucking dreams come true.”
Heat swept through you. Instantly, you remembered what you’d thought about a couple of weeks ago, scarce able to believe you wanted it, but knowing you did. Nevada made you want things you’d never wanted before. You knew your face was on fire as you thought about it, and you knew he’d see it. He caught your chin in his hand and made you look at him. “Suddenly shy are you? Confesarse es bueno para el alma… Confess. I might give you absolution.”
You looked up at him from under your eyelashes, not sure how to find the right words. You wanted to tell him and the lust-filled expression on his face only spurred you on. You wanted him to make the fantasy real. But it was embarrassing to admit your inexperience, and there weren’t good words in your vocabulary for what you wanted. The wanton slut you’d been pretending to be a few moments ago was dissolving into the shy, respectable woman you really were. But you knew you just had to find the right words, and you could get her back. You took a deep, uneven breath. “I thought about you fucking me, ‘Vada. Only, not, you know, in the usual way…”
You looked for his reaction, to see if he understood. He blinked and looked blank for a moment, and you wondered if you’d have to spell it out. You watched his mind working. Then you saw realisation dawn and desire suffuse his features, his eyes darkening. “You want me to fuck your ass?” His eyes were intent on yours, and you managed a nod but nothing else, your arousal growing but also your apprehension. He wasn’t a gentle lover, usually, and this could be a big mistake. But he looked like he was still considering something. “And why was that such a difficult thing to ask for?” he asked, curiously. “When you’ve begged me to spank you, and I’ve had you tied to my bed?” The memories flashed through your mind, increasing your arousal. “It’s pretty fucking vanilla…unless…” He paused, and smiled a knowing grin, full of intent and pleasure. “Unless you’ve never done it before.”
When he reached the correct conclusion, you felt embarrassed and looked down at your hands, sure that most women in his world were much more experienced than you. He stood up from the bar stool next to you and stood as close as he could, the warmth of his body pressing against you, his hand going to your hair in a sensual caress, as he brought his lips to your ear, his breath tickling you as he whispered, “Do you want me to be the first man to have his dick in your ass, Y/N? You gonna give that to me?”
You turned to face him, his eyes so very close to yours. “Yes,” you murmured. His eyes flickered in acknowledgement, and he pulled you to him and kissed you, in a kiss that deepened quickly into something possessive and hungry. His hand found yours and urged you down from your bar stool.
“Then why are we still sitting here? Come with me.” He pulled your hand and led you towards the private door at the back of the club. It reminded you of that first night, the evening of the misguided bachelorette party and too much tequila, when you’d fucked him before you understood who he was. But you weren’t drunk tonight, and you weren’t here under duress. You were following Trujillo, King of the Heights, to his bed, and you felt dizzy with arousal.
Once you were in the bedroom, which only had a high frosted window and where there was little furniture other than a bed, a nightstand, and a small closet at one side, he closed the door behind you. Nevada didn’t need to lock doors, no one dared disturb him without knocking first, and waiting. You stood awkwardly inside the door. Usually you had a better sense of how to initiate things, but now you felt shy, not sure what to do. Nevada looked at your expression and grinned. “Come on, Y/N, don’t look like I’m going to fucking murder you. This is supposed to be fun.” He came to stand behind you, putting his big hands on your shoulders and massaging. Just the proximity of his warm body, the scent of him near you, made your body relax, more turned on that worried.
“Sorry, ‘Vada,” you murmured. “I’m just, well, nervous I guess…”
One of his hands crept to your tummy, pulled you back against him, and when he spoke you felt his breath on your neck. It made you shiver with pleasure. “Hey, I’m not brilliant at the softly, softly, hearts and roses stuff. But I’m not gonna hurt you or do anything you don’t want.”
You smiled at this. “You’re not going to hurt me?” You turned in his arms so you could see him, let him look into your eyes and see your arousal.
He grinned at your challenge and raised his eyebrows. “Well, no more than you want me to, mi hermosa puta.” You leaned into him for a kiss and one of his hands found your breast. As the kiss deepened, his touch became more aggressive, almost bruising, and it ignited the dark arousal deep in your core, the reason he was so addictive. You held his head and pulled him into the kiss, tugging on his short hair, making it clear that your nerves were fading, your confidence was returning, and you wanted him. Wanted him to stop being so careful, wanted him to bring out the lascivious, wanton woman only he seemed to be able to find.
He extricated himself from the kiss, gradually, backing away from you and sitting down on the bed. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, leaving him in his black shirt, that familiar gold crucifix glinting at his chest. Then he leaned back on his hands, eyes on you. “Strip,” he said, gesturing with his hand, watching your response. This was one of his tests; if you looked uncomfortable, he’d have more work to do. But if you looked, as you did now, as if stripping for him was all you wanted to do, he had you where he wanted you. His.
You started with your top, peeling it up over your head, revealing the thin black lace of the bra you’d chosen for tonight. It didn’t leave anything very much to the imagination and you saw his approval written all over his face. You unfasted your jeans, peeling them down your legs, removing your shoes at the same time, leaving you in just the underwear, watching – and feeling – his gaze all over your exposed skin. He smiled and stood up, shrugging out of his shirt, peeling off his black undershirt, leaving him in just his jeans. You could see the bulge at his crotch, he was clearly aroused.
His smile faded and his expression become predatory, as he walked towards you. He reached a hand to the back of your head, took a handful of your hair and kissed you, hard. You met his passion with your own, your tongues duelling briefly, before he pulled back, his hand still in your hair, using it to pull you towards the bed and pushing you down over it, roughly, until you were bending over. You caught your breath, arousal flaring, so intense it almost burned painfully in your core. He knew, of course. You’d been fucking him for over half a year, he’d got you all figured out. Now, he spread his fingers and ran his hand over your naked back, as far as your underwear. You shivered under his firm touch. Then he delivered a sharp slap to your ass and you bunched your hands into fists, your small moan of arousal giving you away. He laughed in that sardonic way he had that was unbearably erotic.
His hand slid over your lace-clad ass, tracing the crease at the top of your thighs, and back up over the other cheek. When his fingers reached your hips again, he hooked them under the lace of your panties and pulled them down, sliding them down your legs, where you stepped out of them and heard him cast them aside. You felt his fingers slide up the inside of your thigh, finding your pussy with no hesitation, slipping his fingertips between your lips and teasing.
“Dios mío, you’re wet,” he said. “This all for me, good girl?”
“Yes, it’s all for you,” you breathed, feeling his touch sending waves of pleasure through you that made your legs feel weak. He ran one slick finger from your pussy towards your asshole. You felt his touch there with some trepidation, but it felt good. Suddenly, both hands were on your cheeks, as he spread you, opening all your secrets to his eyes. You gasped, felt as though he was penetrating you with his eyes.
“Te ves deliciosa, my sweet little whore. I’m going to have to taste…” He matched his action to the word, as you felt his breath, then the warmth of his face, his mouth, pressed into your ass. His lips, then his tongue, finding the tight, puckered entrance and teasing, alternating broad licking motions with his tongue, with smaller, more invasive actions that made you squirm. When he brought one hand up to rub circles over your clit at the same time, you were glad to be leaning over the bed for support.
When he pulled his mouth away and removed his hand from you, you missed both points of contact. You turned to look over your shoulder to see him put his fingers to his mouth and make a show of licking them. Then he put his fingers where his mouth had just been, at the virgin entrance to your body, rubbing softly, his touch hot and slick, but not yet penetrating. You moaned at the sensation, the anticipation.
“My dick’s dying to get in this tight little hole,” he said, in a voice dripping with lust, pressing into you just a little with his fingertip. You felt your body tense in response, but he was undeterred. “Whatever else you do in the rest of your life, baby, it’ll be me who fucked your ass first.” Now his finger slid a little deeper. It felt good. “You come up here to the Heights, to me, because there’s no one else in your perfect world that can give it to you like I do. Isn’t that true?” When you didn’t answer, he slapped your ass with his free hand. “Answer me.”
“Yes…it’s true…it’s only…” your final words were lost as he added a second wet finger, and the stretch felt good.
“My baby likes my fingers in her ass…” he crooned, moving them gently. “It feel good?”
“Yes, yes, it does,” you breathed, “I want you to fuck me…”
“Well, sweetheart, my dick’s quite a lot fucking bigger, so I hope you’re ready.” His words were crude but they made you want it all more. He slid his fingers out of you and you heard the zipper of his jeans. You started to imagine how it was going to feel when he fucked you, vaguely concerned your fantasies had lied to you about how good it would be.
You were surprised when you felt his hands on your shoulders, encouraging you to stand up. “Hey,” he said, “stand up and turn over. I want to see your face.” You did as he asked, eyes on his. His pupils were dark and wide, clearly blown with lust. He caught you before you sat back down on the bed, his fingers under your chin. “Y/N, even with lube, it might hurt a bit…” He almost sounded concerned, but that was so unusual for him it seemed unlikely. But the idea of trusting him, even if it did hurt, and even if he was the last person on earth you should trust, was part of the power he had, part of the drug he was to you. You looked up at him, feeling hot with desire and need.
“I know,” you hesitated, letting you both think about it. “And you won’t break me.” Somehow you made it sound like a challenge and you saw his eyes darken. His next words were little more than a growl, and he gripped your chin harder.
“You’d like me to try though, wouldn’t you?” You held his gaze, not giving him his answer. You’d clearly reassured him, banished his concern. “Get on the fucking bed,” he commanded. You did, a small smile at the corners of your mouth. You sat on the side of the bed and watched as he stripped off his shoes, jeans and underwear, reaching up to unfasten your bra and throw it into the pile of clothes he discarded. You let your eyes run over his body: strong with a covering of dark hair, his olive skin marked with faded scars, and some bruises near his ribs you’d never seen before. His cock, bigger than any you’d seen before, was a rock hard, angry red. He moved quickly to the nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out a wrapped condom and bottle of clear lube. He ripped open the wrapper and rolled on the condom easily, evidence of the hundreds of times he’d done it. Then he stepped back towards you slowly, deliberately. “Lie down,” he said, putting a hand on your chest and pushing you gently backwards onto the bed.
His hands found the inside of your knees, pushing them up and back, spreading them wide, exposing you to him. He bent his head and enclosed your swollen clit in his mouth, massaging it with his tongue, making your whole body convulse with the shock of pleasure. Then he traced his tongue lower, following your pussy lips, all the way to your ass. His tongue felt warm, slick and invasive there, but also very, very good, especially when you knew what was coming next. You played with your own nipples as he licked and stroked you, his tongue exploring, struggling not to press your hips up towards him. He pushed his fingers into your pussy, stroked you in just the way you liked, and you felt your arousal, your need, building, before he pulled back.
He straightened up to reach for the lube. You heard him squeeze the bottle and felt the cool liquid on his fingers as he made sure you were ready for him. Two fingers, then three, pressed into your tight hole, and were quickly withdrawn, replaced with the thick, hot head of his cock, slick with lube. You gasped and closed your eyes.
“Oh no, baby, keep your eyes open,” he said. You opened them and found his green eyes fixed intently on yours. He took a firm grip on your legs with his strong hands, pushing them back. Very, very slowly, he eased his hips forward. You felt an initial stretch, a slight burn. He didn’t move. “Good girl…relax for me…relájate para mí…” he said. You felt your body obey him, and he pushed forward again, just a short distance, waiting for you to get used to him. It was a new stretch in your body, on the edge of pain, but it felt good, especially as you looked up into his eyes. And needed more.
“Come on, Papi, is that all you’ve got?” you said in a harsh whisper. You saw his response dart as a shadow across his face, felt his hands grip your legs so tight it would bruise.
“Oh no, Mami, I’ve got lots more,” he snarled and drove his hips forward all the way, impaling you on his big cock. You felt his balls against your body, knew he was as deep as he could go. The stretch was exquisite, pain and pleasure and the feeling of your body accommodating him. He paused, waiting, watching.
“Please fuck me…” you begged, wanting nothing more. His eyes were sparkling with mischief.
“No,” he said. “Beg harder.” He moved his hips so you could feel him, deep inside you, but he did nothing more.
“Not fair,” you retorted. He just smiled his wicked smile.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to argue. Tell me what you want. Use that good girl’s mouth to fucking beg for it.”
“Please, fuck my ass. Please, Papi, fuck me hard…”
He grinned, then pulled his hips back, before sliding back into you. You breathed through the discomfort, which started to ease quickly, entirely disappearing beneath the growing pleasure. His hands were still gripping your legs and he pushed back on them harder as he started to move faster, thrusting into you now.
“Get one of your hands down here and show me how you touch yourself,” he ordered. “When you fantasise about me.” You obeyed, sliding a hand over your stomach, until your fingers found your hard, slick clit. He didn’t stop fucking you, but learned back enough to see, to give you room to start massaging and rubbing in the way that made you feel very good indeed. Never as good on your own as actually being here with Nevada though. He was watching. “You do that, and think of me?”
“Yes, all the time,” you replied. He pushed harder and deeper into you, and you changed your action, touching yourself in a way that would make you come faster.
“You’re my fucking slut aren’t you, Y/N? Tell me.” He was starting to sweat, his words sounding breathless as he fucked you. His big cock invading your ass was like nothing you’d ever felt before, but the connection between the nerve endings he was hitting, and your clit, was undeniable.
“I’m your slut, ‘Vada. Only for you.” You rubbed your clit more furiously, as he really started to pump his hips, each thrust forward feeling as though it stretched you just a little bit more. You could feel the tension growing low in your body, you could feel how close you were. “And you’re going to make me come…”
“Not if I get there first…” he panted. “Papi’s gonna come in your virgin ass…” Sensing his urgency, you touched yourself harder, pushing yourself over the edge, feeling the building tension snap with a sudden release between your legs, soon overtaking your whole body in a wave of hot, much needed pleasure, so intense it felt like relief. You still had your head tipped back in ecstasy when Nevada announced, “I’m gonna come for you, good girl…” His fingernails dug into the flesh of your legs as he did, groaning and swearing under his breath in Spanish, his cock pulsing inside you, his heart beating so fast you were almost worried.
It took him a long moment to recover, releasing your legs and letting his body rest on yours, still inside you. When he could breathe again, he tentatively withdrew, moving away from you to take care of the used protection. Then he was back. Instead of helping you to sit up, he came to lie with you on the bed, drawing a blanket over both of you. You turned to face him and he propped his head on his hand, letting the other hand rest on the curve of your hip. There was a question in his face, but he wasn’t one for a lot of follow up. Still, you wanted to give him his answer.
“That was amazing, ‘Vada. It felt so good.” You weren’t lying. Now you felt the after-glow of orgasm, as well as the pleasure of knowing you’d pleased him, given him his release too.
“At your service, Ma’am,” he mocked. You just smiled, feeling sleepy in the aftermath. He noticed. “Look, you know I’m not big into sleepovers. But if you want to sleep here for a bit, you can.” He shrugged, as though it wasn’t anything you’d be interested in.
“Thank you. I’d like to,” you smiled. “It’ll mean I’m in the right place for round two…”
You saw the lust come into his face again. “Insaciable…” he said quietly, which needed no translation. You just smiled and wondered what the rest of the night could hold.
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sneezingpotatoes · 3 years
Text
Merry (LATE ASF) Christmas xD
Over a year late, but... You know?😂😂😂 I come baring gifts! xD Gotta keep my word no matter how long it takes lmao
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Okay so I got my ex-best friend to draw Draco for me xD LOL She’s vanilla and doesn’t know about my kink so I had to kinda sneakily ask her to add the blush and stuff lmao BUT FOR THE MOST PART, this is my OC Draco xDD She did a good job with it! That’s him feeling all sickly in the story xD I might get her to draw my other OC’s too! If you want her to draw for you too or see what else she drew, her instagrams are: @ixreikoluxi and @ixreiko_luxi ((Just dont message her anything kinky LOL but she does do commissions on anime art!)) Also I tried new things in here... And there’s a lot that be happenin in this fic so hopefully it’s a good read lmao xD 
ANYWAYS MERRY (LATE ASF) CHRISTMAS AND ONTO THE FIC XD I think it’s around 15k words OvO ENJOY
December 23rd
 A soft murmur slips past Draco’s ears through the darkness of sleep, earning a sleepy snort and a shift on the couch from the sleeping drunkard. The murmur wasn’t loud enough to fully wake the hungover excuse of a man resting on the couch, but it did plant the seed of a weak headache into his temples from the lingering alcohol flowing through his veins.
“...co ... Draco! Wake up, please.” 
The gentle shaking of his arm causes Draco to slowly stir awake. The rugged man lazily blinks a few times, trying to get his eyes to focus through the dim light on the face hovering above him. He winces as he’s greeted with a sharp churning in his stomach from his heavy alcohol consumption the past few days, cursing at the situation entirely.
“Shit. Wahtimeisit..? Wahdoyouwant?” His voice was deep and groggy from sleep, words slurred from his mind and mouth both sluggish and still trying to register and function at the thought of being awake so early.
“It’s 10 ‘till 6am. I need you to do the Christmas shopping for me while I’m at work today.” The gentleman firmly instructed. Shit. He had forgotten about that. The rugged man audibly grunted, rubbing the sleep out of his tired eyes. “I left the shopping list and some money on the table. Do not forget about it, Draco. I mean it.” His voice was strict and bold, leaving a mark on Draco’s deafened pride. The gentleman locked the door behind him and was gone before Draco could even attempt to respond. 
“Could’ve at least turned off the fricken light, jeez.”
He groaned, dreading the long day of shopping he had ahead of him. Every time Reuben had asked him to go to the store for him, it was always at least a four-hour endeavor, seeing how Reuben always had items on the list that he had never heard of, and the nearest shops around his area were all unheard of and he had no idea where any of the items were. Even if he did go shopping on a regular basis, he was sure that he would still be lost in each of the supermarkets. Christmas was in two days, so that meant that everyone was out and about, doing their last-minute Christmas shopping, just as he was about to, seeing how he had waited nearly a month to even think about the list. Yeah, Reuben had warned him about this multiple times, that’s why he had made the list ahead of time, but Draco didn’t care. Well, he didn’t care until now. The rugged man cursed to himself just thinking about the long shopping list and having to deal with crowds of people. Why did he have to do all the damn shopping, anyway? ‘It’s not like you do anything all day, anyway. You just lay around or go to the bar and get drunk. The least you could do is help out around here and go to the grocery store.’ He could hear Reuben’s nagging voice already engraved into his memory. They’ve had this conversation once before, and Draco hated to be reminded of it. He sighs, shoving away the memory and slamming his eyes shut, trying to return to the peaceful slumber that he had been rudely awoken from.
4 hours felt like minutes according to Draco as he was rudely pulled out of sleep by warm licks to the tip of his nose. At first, he shoves the clever feline back away from his torso and rubs his freshly licked nose, sluggishly trying to go back to sleep. Absinthe returns a couple of seconds later, gently sitting on his chest with a soft ‘meowrr’ that makes the rugged man bat an eye at the creature.
“Jesus Christ, cut it out, will ya!?” The man grunted, remembering that he was supposed to feed the feline two hours ago, and that he probably wouldn’t hear the end of it with Reuben when he got home. She speaks again, hopping onto the floor and stretching outward near her food bowl. “Alright, alright already. Shaash, I’m goin’.”
Brain still foggy from sleep, the rugged man brought himself to his feet, releasing a loud, well-needed yawn that forced his jaw to slack all the way open as he headed into the kitchen, feeling the patient feline watching his every move. He takes the can of cat food from the cabinet and sluggishly places the food in the bowl, having Absinthe instantly begin to eat the protein packed meal.
“You’re welcome, little bastard.” He mumbled as he watched the feline scarf down the mushy substance, gliding a gentle hand behind her ears. “Must be good, huh?” It was odd. Draco normally judged Reuben for speaking to his feline like an actual person, but it was actually quite soothing to say the least, as it brought a wry smirk to his face. Obviously, he wasn’t going to tell Reuben that. The black cat abruptly stopped eating and peeked her head at the man crouched directly behind her, purring when he rubbed the right spot. He gave her one last rub before getting up to grab a change of clothes.
He called an Uber after taking a decently long, hot shower and eating a slice of cold, leftover pizza from the fridge for breakfast. Reuben was the only person with a car around here and he had taken it to work today, so he felt that an Uber would be the better option at least. The rugged man scoops the money from on the table into his pocket, grabs the shopping list and heads outside into the freezing winter air.
***
The sky was a nice dark gray, not doing the sun any favors with providing any warmth or sunlight really. There was a cold, gentle breeze that would occasionally brush through his dark black bangs and hug his neck and chest, forcing him to pull up his short jacket collar as much as he could in order to shield himself from at least some of the coldness. This would be one of the moments that he missed his trench coat and fedora the most. Reuben had made him throw the old things out entirely and get a completely new wardrobe about a week after he had moved in. He couldn’t complain; he didn’t much care about having to wear new clothes, he just wanted to keep his fedora and trench coat if anything. The sound of car tires sloshing in a puddle of rainwater catches his attention as it appears to be his Uber driver. The driver waves at his direction, beckoning him to come over.
“So, where we headed?” The uber driver asked as Draco entered the back seat.
“Just to the local shopping center up ahead. I put the damn address in the app, why are you asking me? Do your damn job.” He muttered, eyeing the long list in his hand. He’s sure that the driver said something back to him, but he wasn’t listening; He was already in a bad mood and had to prepare himself for the long endeavor ahead of him. 
The closer they got to the shopping center, the more Draco started to get annoyed. There were so many cars in the street, driving slow for what Draco thought was both to look at all of the Christmas lights and decorations hanging up on all of the lamp posts and just from the amount of people in the area period. There were so many people walking on the sidewalks with their families, friends, partners and just some walking solo; He was kind of glad that he hadn’t driven here himself. It would be hell to find a parking spot anywhere, and just hell to get out of here. He grunts to himself, noticing a few people wearing face masks that were walking along the sidewalks as well. He had forgotten that this was the perfect weather and season for people to get sick. It was probably the perfect place to get sick too, seeing how there were just so many people brushing up against one another, touching all sorts of the same products and just overall breathing the same air in general. The driver pulled over in what seemed to be the middle of the shopping center, having a giant Christmas tree on display to his left with so many bright lights and Christmas ornaments dangling from all of the branches. That seemed to be the hot spot of the entire center, seeing how there seemed to be a ton of families crowded around the tree, whether they were taking pictures in front of it, sitting and chatting, or just hanging out around the area. He paid the uber driver and exited the vehicle, instantly starting to make his way towards the nearest supermarket so that he could get out of this mess as quickly as possible.
Draco was hit with a little bit of relief when he entered the store, feeling the heat instantly wash over him as he grabbed his handheld shopping basket. It was short lived though as he saw how long the checkout lines were, and how many people were still shopping down every isle in the store. He briefly sighed, shoving all of his aggravation aside. He knew that he wasn’t going to get anything done fast if he just kept moping about the situation.
It took about an hour of roaming down every isle a few times, bumping into and being bumped into a good handful of times and scanning over the shopping list at least 30 times before Draco was sure that he had gotten a good selection of items off of the list and made the executive decision to check out. It didn’t matter which line he chose; each line was so long that it was stretching into an actual isle, causing multiple people to have to cut through every once in a while, just to get to the other side of the store. He picks the closest line to him and decides to start waiting now rather than later. Why does everybody have to be out shopping right now anyway? He thought to himself, feeling his arms starting to grow tired from carrying the heavy basket for so long. 
It wasn’t long before other shoppers began to slowly file in behind him, causing him to feel slightly uneasy from how close they had to stand in order to be out of the way of other shoppers. What made matters worse was that the person behind him sounded like he was under the weather and Draco didn’t want to be anywhere near it. The thick sniffling that was heard from behind him made Draco internally groan. Damn it, he hated this so much. The regret was really starting to sink in now. At this moment he wished that he had went shopping right when Reuben had made the list. There’s a chesty cough from behind him that makes Draco turn his head slightly enough to see a young man sniffling helplessly into the palm of his hand. He rolls his eyes, feeling like he’s stuck in his current position. He knew that he always had an option to leave the line, but he had already waited 10 minutes and he didn’t want to be there any longer than he had to. The shuffling of feet in front of him caught his attention as he followed suit and scooted forward a couple of inches as the next customer was being serviced. There were only two customers in front of him now, and he was actually standing inside of the gap with the chip racks and soda coolers; He was nearing the light at the end of his tunnel. He knew that he could wait a couple more minutes and put up with this a little while longer. That was until…
“Hh… Ah’TSSCHiuh!!” 
The loud sneeze from behind makes the rugged man flinch, feeling a gust of air and cold spray instantly hit the back of his neck. He slowly turns around completely this time, bringing a hand up to wipe where he had felt the sickly spray come in contact as he was greeted by a young man with short brown hair, sniffling and wiping his nose onto his jacket sleeve.
“Oh, come on, man! Are you freggin serious?!” Draco yells, feeling disgusted and aggravated at the stranger. The outburst causes a handful of eyes to veer over to their direction. The younger man could only give a sheepish smile in return, feeling way beyond embarrassed and nervous of what the rugged man would do.
“I, uhh… I’m sorry, man! It’s just allergies! ‘Tis the season, right?” The young man said with a pleading smile and nervous laugh, trying his best to ease the rugged man over. Allergies my ass. His voice sounded thick and strained just from that apology alone, and Draco already knew what this meant. He looked like a walking germ cell; ain’t no way that’s some goddamn allergies. 
“Un-fucking-believable.” He muttered, looking at his hand in disgust. He was furious way beyond comprehension, but he didn’t want to cause a bigger scene than he had already. For this kids’ sake. The young man pulled out a pack of tissues and handed him one with a shaky hand. “Where the hell was this at before you fucking sneezed on me?!” His voice was loud with anger again as he snatched the tissue out of the man’s hand and wiped his own in disgust. The younger man quickly fumbled into the packet again to grab his own tissues as his eyelashes began to gently flutter shut. 
“Ah’TSSCHiih..! Ih‘TISShiEW!!” 
The cans and bottles in his handheld basket clanked against each other as the young man jerked forwards, diving into his hand full of tissues as his bangs bounced off of his clammy forehead with each itchy explosion. He would’ve crashed into the chip rack if not for the kind stranger behind him. Draco was relieved when the customer in front of him was beginning to load the belt with his items, allowing him to scoot up some again. It was short lived though, when the young man also scooted up behind him, sniffling and coughing so close in his ear it felt like he was practically shoulder to shoulder with him.
Finally, after a few more minutes of waiting, it was Draco’s turn to quickly checkout and instantly leave the store. The cold air greeted Draco once again, but he didn’t care this time. He was just happy to get out of that store and separate himself from that walking germ infestation. His arms were already starting to get tired even though he had two more stores to visit; He just wanted to go home honestly and take another hot shower to cleanse himself. It was about a ten-minute walk to get to the next store on his list. The fresh air was really nice, but it was awfully cold and starting to loosen up his sinuses. He had to sniffle every few seconds just to try and prevent his nose from leaking onto his numb upper lip.
His second shopping experience was pretty similar to the last store, minus the disgusting event, but the process went by faster than he had thought it would, and for that he was grateful. He peered down at the shopping list once again, having a wave of relief brush over him from seeing the small handful of items that he had left to get: Cranberry sauce, Asparagus, wait… Proscouittio? What the hell was a proscouittio? The rugged man sat down on the nearest bench, allowing his arms to rest by setting down all of his grocery bags onto the cold concrete as he pulled out his cellphone and dialed up the pediatrician.
“Hello? Draco?” The smooth and concerned voice of the gentleman was heard on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, it’s me. What the hell is a pro… scouittio?” The rugged man asked, voice still coated with irritation from having to be out shopping. He snuffled twice into a curled knuckle, giving the underside of his nose a quick wipe after feeling a faint burning at the back of his sinuses from the cold air. A light chuckle is heard on the other end from the gentleman.
“It’s prosciutto, not proscouittio.” Reuben corrected through a light snicker. Draco snarled, irritably bringing his phone closer to his mouth. 
“If you’re going to laugh and make fun of me, so help me God I swear I’ll hang up right fucking now and blow this money at the nearest bar in sight.” His voice was dry and grim, causing Reuben to stop his chuckling instantly. The rugged man snuffled thickly again, lifting up his arm to briefly rub his leaky nose along his jacket sleeve this time. 
“Okay, okay, calm down. There’s no reason to get all riled up.” Reuben’s voice had a naturally childish glee to it today that forced Draco to ease up a little, even if he didn’t want to. “It’s a thinly sliced ham. Very delicious. You can find it at Scardello deli a little way east of the Shopping Center. Oh, and Draco, make sure you’re reading all of the ingredients carefully. My parents are coming over and it has to be correct.” It was hard to pay attention to Reuben, seeing how his nose would not stop running no matter how many times he wiped at it. He had to keep sniffling to himself in order to barely keep the leakage at bay. He audibly sighs, as he felt his inner nostrils begin to tingle from the cold air just enough to make his chest bounce with a muted hitch.  “—And a block of Gruyère cheese from the deli too, please.” There was a moment of silence before Reuben realized that he had been talking to himself for the past few seconds. Another muted hitch escapes from Draco as his nose and lips began to quiver uncomfortably from the subtle itch. 
“Hehh…” He could feel his eyelids start to droop closed and his shoulders begin to rise from the third inhale that was audible this time and forced him to bring up a shaky hand to squeeze his nostrils shut with his thumb and forefinger. 
“Hello? Draco? Are you there—" The hitch only sounds like a soft grunt to Reuben as he is unable to hear clearly since Draco instantly pushed the device deep into his chest as he jerked forwards twice.
“Kxxnt… Hhuh-… Eh’GSXnt!” The first sneeze was weak and soft enough to go unnoticed, but it made the gentle tingle in his sinuses rattle, causing the second sneeze to sound a bit more agitated and loud enough to get picked up on the line.  
“Oh? Bless you, Draco. Are you alright?” Reuben asked, voice clearly coated with concern. The rugged man barely caught the sentence as he brought the phone back up to his ear, sniffling a handful of times into his curled knuckle.
“Yeah, ‘s just cold as hell out here. What were you talkin’ about?” Draco muttered, massaging the bridge of his nose with chilled fingertips.
“I said I need you to pick up a block of Gruyère cheese from Scardello’s Deli for me while you’re out. I must’ve forgotten to put it on the list.”
“Jeez, I need a drink.” Draco groaned as he massaged the bridge of his nose in irritation of the new item added to his list this time.
"Tell you what: I'll pay your bar tab for all of the hassle you're going through today, even though all of this could've been avoided had you listened to me." Reuben offered, mumbling the second half of his sentence in a matter-of-fact manner. Draco didn't care though. He was sold on the 'pay your bar tab' part.
"You've got yourself a deal then." 
“Good. Oh- And Draco, be safe out there. Don’t stay out in the cold for too long. Make sure you’re keeping wa--” 
“Tch.” Draco instantly ended the call after he irritably smacked his lips, ignoring the pediatrician’s advice. He didn’t need to hear something he already knew and was well aware of. Reuben wasn’t his parent. He knew how to take care of himself. The rugged man quickly stood back up in a huff and headed straight for the second to last store on his list. 
The next store that he needed to visit was a fresh produce store. Reuben was very picky about the ingredients that he needed. He always wanted it to be organic and to be from a certain brand, which was very annoying and very time consuming to find. If he had been lazy and just brought home a random brand of the product, he knew that he wouldn't hear the end of it from Reuben. Draco didn't know why the hell he cared so much, seeing how it all tasted the same to him anyway. What was the point? It was all food; one just costs more than the other.
The list was growing shorter though, and it only took him about half an hour to find the ingredients that he needed, and checking out was a breeze. The only place he needed to visit was Scardello's Deli. He was glad that this was his last stop though. He was growing rather hungry and decided to take this opportunity to grab him some lunch with the leftover grocery money, if he had any.
Upon approaching the Deli, his heart instantly sinks from how many people are inside of the deli, and just from seeing all the tables outside being filled as well. For a brief moment he had forgotten that it was almost Christmas and that the piles of people showing up to this Deli wouldn't be an exception. Scardello's was also a popular Italian deli, famous for their tasty, high quality ingredients; seeing this many people here on an average day wouldn't be surprising either. You'd be lucky if you didn't have to wait in a long line that extended outside of the store.
Draco quickly stepped in line, wanting to save his place before someone else had the chance to and began the waiting game for the last time. He was happy, seeing how after he was finished shopping here, he could finally go home and he also had free alcohol on his waiting list. It wasn't too bad though. He enjoyed the scent of freshly toasted bread and the savory scent of spices that were infused into the meats. This was the best experience he had today for waiting in a long line, even if he had handfuls of groceries in his hands.
After waiting for about 20 minutes in line, it was finally his turn to order and he was relieved. There was a big glass full of different types of meats on display in front of him, all looking very delicious, but he points to the specific type of prosciutto that Reuben had asked for, along with the block of Gruyère cheese. The cashier nods to the rugged man and repeats the order back to a couple of workers that were slicing meat in the back as he pressed a few buttons onto his register.
"Prosciutto di Parma. Good choice. Delicate to the tongue and sweet to the taste." The woman behind him stated as she approached the meat display and stood beside him. She held her black suitcase to her side as her long, white lab coat flapped behind her as she turned to study the rugged man standing in front of her. "Hmm... You don't look like the type to eat anything close to prosciutto... Who sent you?" She mused, chuckling to herself as she saw the confused, and now irritated glare on Draco's face. The rugged man furrowed a brow at the lady, feeling offended by her choice of words. ‘Look the type’? The hell does she mean by that? 
Her long, brown hair seemed to flow vibrantly behind her back, naturally complimenting her dark, purple orbs while she looked at the display case full of meat. She was actually very beautiful in Draco's eyes; he had to force himself to shift his gaze so that he didn’t end up staring for too long.
"I gotta $62.60 for a Prosciutto Di Parma an’ a Gruyère ." The cashier stated through a heavy Italian accent that instantly snagged Draco's attention and brought him back to reality. Over $50 for just some damn meat and cheese? What has the world come to, he thought to himself. 
"U-uh, yeah, and I wanna add your uhh... Italian Sub. That should be cheap enough at least." He muttered, dazed by both the woman still hovering over his shoulder and the price of the meat as he fumbled into his pockets for the leftover grocery money. 
"Ey, Giuseppe, put his order on my ticket." The woman stated as she gently grabbed his hand in order to prevent him from scrambling for the lose bills in his pockets any longer. “Grazie mille amico mio.” Draco gave the woman both a confused and disapproving look in return but she brushed it off as she placed her own order on top of his. 
“Nessun problema. Qualunque cosa per mia sorella!” The cashier replied with a smile as he typed away on the cash register. 
"The hell d’you think you’re doing, lady? I have the money to pay, you know." Draco muttered to the woman with shattered pride after she had placed her order. The cashier had told them to stand over to the side as they began preparing their food.
"Mm-hmm. Oh I'm sure you do." She said with a flirtatious grin. Draco couldn't tell if she was joking or if she was just being sarcastic. Or both. The childish tone of her voice reminded him of Lirin a bit, and made him unintentionally release an agitated sigh. "Nobody in their right mind walks into Scardello's with pocket change."
"Listen, lady, pocket change or not: money is money. Don’t give a rats ass about how it looks." Even though she was very beautiful, her beauty didn’t seem to filter Draco’s mouth nor his personality. He could care less, really. She could’ve been Beyonce in a two piece and he still would’ve said the same thing. 
"Hm. Touché." She muttered, giving the rugged man an approving nod before giving him a light punch in the shoulder. “Can you not call me lady though? Don’t you know how rude that sounds?” 
"Do I look like a fuckin’ mind-reader? I don’t know your name, lady.”
“The name's Sicily." Her response came out awkward sounding as she fought to keep herself from actually socking him in the shoulder again. “Gaash, do you kiss your mother with that potty mouth?” 
"Don’t you ever mention my mother ever again, you got that??" He mutters intensely, having the cashier interrupt their conversation with two bags of food in hand. 
She awkwardly thanked the cashier and gave him a tip before leaving the Deli. Draco followed her outside over to a wooden bench a few steps away from the Deli as she sat down and separated the food between both of them.
"Y’know, you’re being kinda rude to the person that just bought all this food for you. Here." She said as she gave him the bag with freshly purchased food inside. "That one's yours." Draco accepted the bag in silence as she taps the bench and invites him to join her and have a seat, in which he distantly accepts. The two sit in silence for a good few minutes before Sicily decides to cut through the tension. “I didn’t catch your name earlier...” She mumbled into her sandwich before taking a bite out of it. 
“... Draco, I guess...” He replied annoyed, only staring at his sandwich rather than eating it.
"Well, Mr. Draco... You’re an asshole, you know that?” She stated through a soft chuckle after hearing Draco release a loud, obviously aggravated grunt in response, “An attractive asshole, I might add. And honestly, you just have the manliest resting bitch face I’ve ever seen--” 
“What the hell are you getting at here?” 
 “You wanna know why I paid for your meal? I just wanted to make that sour face at least a liiiittle bit sweeter, you know?” The rugged man gave a perplexed look towards the woman sitting beside him. It felt weird hearing a woman speak so openly and without a filter just like him. 
“...Shut up...” Draco half-muttered after an exhausted sigh, before finally taking a bite out of his sandwich. 
“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Too bad. I’m not a sheep. I don’t follow orders.” She mused with a dorky accent, surprisingly earning an unexpected chuckle from the rugged man. He wasn’t expecting such a resilient response. He had to admit, she was a cute, quirky, and geeky person that made his heart flutter the more he talked with the woman. 
The two sat on the bench oddly enjoying each other's company and eating the delicious Italian lunch for about half an hour. Even though it was really cold outside, it didnt matter to them. It felt like Draco was genuinely having a great time with Sicily and he didn't want it to end. You might even say it was a first date at that. She seemed to be the only person that could get underneath his thick skin and actually make him chuckle, multiple times at that. Wait a minute, what was he thinking? It couldn’t have been a date. They were simply just having a decent lunch together. That was all. 
The half hour feels like seconds as the time flew by, though. They had already finished their lunch and Draco knew that he needed to get back and put the groceries away. Sicily seemed like she had her own plans to get back to as well, seeing how she was the one who had cut the event short. She did feel awful about ending their moment, so she paid for his Uber and waited with him until the Uber arrived to take him home.
***
Draco had an odd, empty feeling resting in his stomach as the Uber pulled up to Reuben's home. He was glad to be home and to have all the shopping finished; It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of his shoulders, but he still missed the company of Sicily. He thanks the driver for the ride after he collected all of his belongings and started for the front door, heaving all of the groceries along with him.
Draco raises a curious brow as he sees Reuben's car in the driveway. It was out of the ordinary to see Reuben's car here at this time, because he normally didn't come home until late at night. The rugged man adjusts the bags in his hands, dismissing the fact of the car being there only to be halted by a stray dog crossing his path in the driveway.
The dog looked like a black and brown German Shepard, but it had a deep cut along its left eye and it was faintly shivering from the cold winter air. Once Draco made eye contact with the canine, it slowly sat down and wagged its tail, patiently waiting. For what, Draco had no idea. He had seen this dog before. Multiple times at that. Reuben would always chase the dog away with his shoe whenever he saw him on the porch, but Draco never understood why. The rugged man cautiously approached the injured creature with a struggling hand to scratch behind its ears and the dog instantly dropped its mouth open and let its tongue hang out, clearly enjoying the attention and feeling of affection.
"You like that, dontcha boy?" As if in response to Draco, the dog barked and hopped up to place his paws onto the rugged man’s chest, trying to lick his face. Draco chuckled at the friendly creature and gave it a hug as he couldn't resist the poor, abandoned animal. He knew how being cold, lonely and abandoned felt and how much value was in the slightest amount of affection. He wasn’t fast enough to dodge as the canine licked his cheek a few times. "Okay, okay, down boy! Get down!" He had to force the dog down, seeing how the canine was overly excited from the rugged man and his attention. "What’s your name, anyway?" He muttered, trying to find a collar or dog tag on the animal, only to find nothing. The stray dog sat in front of the rugged man with excited eyes. It was hard for Draco to look back at the poor animal, but he knew that he couldn't take him into Reuben's house. The pediatrician had mentioned that he disliked dogs with a passion; for what reason, Draco had no clue. He gave the dog one last good rub and slipped past him in order to get to the front porch. The dog only sat in place, watching the rugged man as he stood on the porch, glaring back at the stray dog with guilt. “... You know what, fuck it.” He says as he grabs a slice of the prosciutto and tosses it to the stray dog. Immediately, the dog grabs the meat and runs into the grass, tearing the meat up and swallowing it savagely like he hadn’t eaten in a while. ‘You enjoy that, little buddy.” He whispers before sliding into the house. 
***
Draco released a light sigh as he was relieved to be back home and outside of the cold. Before he could enter the kitchen to set down the groceries, Reuben arose from the couch and greeted him with a cheerful grin.
"Welcome back, Draco. I assume everything went well?" The gentleman grabbed a few of the bags from the rugged man and led him into the kitchen.
"Yeah, but- wait, why are you home right now?" Draco asked, confusion coating his voice, as he sat the bags on the counter and began to take all of the items out. Reuben gives a slight chuckle as he takes the empty bag from Draco and throws it in the trash.
"I couldn't have you here while I wrapped up all the Christmas gifts, now could I?" He said, pointing at the elegant Christmas tree that now had multiple gifts resting underneath it. Draco rolled his eyes, aggravated at the fact that it would’ve been a whole lot easier if Reuben would’ve taken him to the store in the first place. “Oh, relax, would you? I thought I’d find you wearing an ear-to-ear grin from the clean slate you now have at the bar!"
"... Fine, just whatever... There better be a flask full of booze under there or you're catching fists." He falsely allowed the joke to slip off of his tongue, forgetting that he wasn't outside with Sicily anymore. Reuben doesn't mind though, and takes it as him finally getting into the Christmas spirit. "What's with the sweater?"
"Oh this old thing? You like it?” Humors Reuben as he stretches out the sweater in order to show off all the glowing Christmas lights and decorations on it. The rugged man only gives a disgusted look in disapproval at the ugly thing. "It even lights up, s-see?Ihktsh!" Reuben furrowed a confused brow as he barely caught the abrupt sneeze into a curled knuckle, feeling an overwhelming itch force entry into his sinuses and cut his shirt viewing short. 
A sharp, breathy inhale was the only thing Draco heard before he looked over to see Reuben twitching forward with each rapid sneeze, catching them with the top-side of his hand. "Hih-Ktsh! Hihktsh! Hh-Hihh! Hih'KSsh! HuhISsSCH'ue!!" The power of the tickling sensation was so strong and abrupt that his lungs didn’t know how to function properly with the irritant fighting in his sinuses.
He knew the feeling of this type of tickle. It wasn’t from sickness, nor from hay fever, and his house hadn’t been dusty enough to irritate him the past few days, so it could’ve only been one other thing.  A handful of muted gasps escape from the gentleman as he could feel his sensitive nose trembling in agony. 
“Hh-have youhh beenn playi’gw-wihh-hih! Wid dohh-gs??” The pediatrician struggled to ask between hitching breaths as he grabbed a few tissues from off of the counter with one hand and pinched his nostrils closed with his other hand. 
“Yeah, so what if I did?” Draco fired back, defensively as if the stray dog were under attack by the evil pediatrician. The gentleman only blew his nose in return, shaking his head from how intense the tickle was becoming. He instantly shuffled backwards after he blew into the handful of tissues for a second time, foolishly trying to expel the irritant as quickly as possible, only to rattle the irritant around and get hit with the full force of the tickling sensation. He coughed and fanned at the air as if doing so would remove the irritant that forced his nostrils to instantly tremble in aggravation. He could feel his body rejecting the irritant fiercely as his eyelids instantly slammed shut once again and his chest visibly bounced from the rapid, overwhelming breaths his body felt were necessary to take between each desperate sneeze he lazily caught in the handful of tissues. The sudden irritant caught both him and his body off guard as it physically tried to process what the devil Draco had brought into his presence. 
“D-Dr-a’KSh!Ihktsh!! Huh’kSsh!! I-Ihssh’uehh-hih! HihH’ksh’u!!… I-Ih-hhehh-HH…” Reuben barely squinted his eyes open to share a struggling glare with Draco, trying his hardest to speak but failed miserably, getting lost in his own sea of rapid hitches. The strength of the irritant forced the pediatrician to instantly jerk forwards into the damp handful of tissues with rapid, itchy explosions. 
“Hihktsh! Kshnt! IhKTSH-tsshIISsh! AlleH-Hh’Issh…! T-tIDSh’ue!! Hehh…D-dohhgs-s Hhgh-ihkssh’u! hHAH-ESsh’uekgshu! IH’KGshIEw!! Iksshu! Kgshu-IKGSshu!” The gentleman's body trembled with each sneeze as he struggled to take in a breath of air. He had foolishly tried to speak in-between the fit in vain as he had cut himself off with the rapid, tumbling sneezes. 
The rugged man gives Reuben a questioning glare as he released four more tired sneezes in-between desperate nose blows and irritated coughs into his handful of tissues. He didn't know that Reuben had a dog allergy; He also hadn't played with the canine for that long either, so he was confused as to why Reuben was having such a reaction.
"I'm a-allerhh-hih... Hahh...! Ihktsh!! Hheh'kssh-ISshu! 'EDSh'ue!! Ekgsh!! IsshShishh! IGSSch'uh! Hahh... Allergigk do dogs." He congestedly tried to explain again through disruptive hitches. 
Draco could see the pediatrician's pink tipped nose still twitching from the irritant lingering about as he dabbed away the allergic tears that started rolling down his cheeks with the side of his hand. He gave a sly smirk to himself, finding a hint of pleasure in seeing the arrogant pediatrician looking so vulnerable. It was nice to see Reuben knocked off of his high horse for a bit. 
"Well in that case, I want a dog." Draco humored to the pediatrician as he watched him still trying to catch his unsteady breath.
"Hah’KGshn! Ihgsh! Kgsch! H-how consihhderate o-of... Ih-Kgsshn! Hh-huh... youhh." His speech was still shaky and broken from the faint hitches riddled between his words. He blows his nose once again in an attempt to blow out the irritant that had entered his nostrils, but it does nothing but dampen the tissues further in his hand.  
 The gentleman irritably tells Draco to finish putting away the groceries and to throw his clothes into the washer as he left the room to take some allergy medicine, already beginning to feel miserable. He also couldn’t help but give a little chuckle to himself, finding the whole situation to be quite humorous. He only wondered how bad it would be if Reuben were to actually encounter a dog in person. 
The hot shower that Draco had been waiting for all day finally came and went, leaving him with a strong feeling of relief and relaxation. It felt like ten pounds had been lifted off of his shoulders, seeing how he still felt disgusting from that irritating encounter at the store. Reuben seemed to be feeling better as well, since he had stopped sneezing when he got out of the shower. He had to admit: The Christmas vibes were definitely present from both the nicely decorated Christmas tree and all of the decorations Reuben had been putting up all over the house. It was his first Christmas with the pediatrician, and it felt like it was going to be a great one at that.
December 24th
The loud clank of a pan serves as a rude awakening for the rugged man as he flinched awake from the couch. He tries to open his eyes but instantly slams them shut with a heavy wince from the blinding living room lights. A few light coughs escape from his grasp as he sluggishly wiped the sleep from his eyes. He felt groggy today. Groggier than usual. He releases a sluggish snuffle in an attempt to clear the wall of congestion that must’ve built up overnight. 
“Evening, Draco.” The lanky gentleman greeted from the kitchen, adding water to a pot before placing it on the stove top. “A pleasure to see you awake. I surely thought you were going to sleep the entire day away.” The rugged man remained silent as he blindly reached for his flask from off of the coffee table and instantly began consuming the alcoholic beverage, only to choke on the burn in his throat. That was strange. He thought that he was used to the burn of a little Whiskey. “How many times have I told you to stop drinking in the morning?” The rugged man winces, trying to clear his throat of the itch and now faint burn from the alcohol.
“Mornin’ to you too, asshole.” He muttered dismissively, hearing his own voice sound a little scratchier than usual. “HhUh-TDZSSH...!! EHh’GTSZSHh’UHH!! GOD--!! Damnit!!” He barely catches the first loud sneeze into the cup of his hand, almost spilling his flask from the force of the second loud sneeze that shakes his entire core. He yells a swear, feeling the most torturous burn scrape his raw throat from the loud morning sneezes. 
“Ah. Lovely.” The sarcastic tone from the gentleman earned a pained chuckle out of Draco as he struggled to choke down another swig from his flask. “I’m expecting company over soon. I’d recommend getting dressed and presentable.”
“Dressed and ‘presentable’? Screw off.” Reuben only sighed in return, not in the mood to put up with Draco’s shenanigans. A mild yawn escapes his lips as he glares at the clock resting on the stand. “3:30pm? Shit.” He mumbled as he rubbed a hand across his face in an attempt to wipe the sleep away as he got up to join the pediatrician in the kitchen. There were a lot of different foods scattered across all of the kitchen countertops with other food items cooking on the stove as well, and he was sure that he saw something baking in the oven. “Why the hell are you makin’ so much food?” Reuben abruptly stopped cutting the vegetables on the cutting board and sat his knife down in order to share a confused glare at Draco. 
“Draco, my family is coming over for the Holidays, remember?” His heart instantly sank after hearing those words. He had forgotten about Reuben’s family coming to visit. He dreaded this day as well because it was going to be the most awkward day of his life, which was probably the reason he had forgotten about it in the first place. “You do remember, don’t you?”
“HhUH-EGTSsh!! Y-yeah, sure. When are dhey cobin’ a-adywayhh? IH’TIZSSCH'ugh!! Shidt.” He asked between the forceful sneezes, dismissively trying to hide the fact that he truly had forgotten about his parents coming over. The gentleman raises a concerned brow at the second pair of harsh sneezes and gives the rugged man a quick gloss-over. 
“My blessings. Are you feeling well, Draco?” The pediatrician doesn’t hesitate to shove a cool palm underneath the man’s disheveled bangs and atop his clammy forehead out of his routine pediatric habit. “You look exhausted. Then again, when don’t you look exhausted?” Draco flinches and knocks away Reuben’s hand in return, before taking another swig from his flask. 
“’M fine. Your snooty parents must be talking about me already.” He humored, but not really. He didn’t want to offend the gentleman, but they both knew it was obvious. Reuben brushed off his comment, not disputing it either, seeing how Draco could’ve been right. His parents were a bit snobbish and he wouldn’t be surprised if they actually were talking about him right now.
“We agreed on 4pm, but knowing my family they’ll probably be knocking on the door any minute now. That is why I’d strongly advise getting dressed.” The rugged man leaned against the countertop in silence for a moment, trying to find at least someway to get out of this pickle he was forced into. 
“Why the hell do I gotta act all nice and prissy just to impress your damn parents? It ain’t like we gettin’ married.” He irritably muttered into his opened flask, dreading the evening he had to prepare for. The pediatrician took a moment to compose himself, trying not to let the stress of the day wash over him and cause him to say or do something he didn’t intend to. 
“Draco, can you please just wash up and get dressed? Don’t make this difficult. You can leave for the bar right after, I don’t care, just don’t embarrass me, please?” Draco gave the man a questioning look. He hadn’t heard the pediatrician ask him to do something in this pleading tone ever. It was... different. A bit concerning. 
“Whatever...” He grumbled, silently slipping out of the kitchen and leaving the pediatrician to continue cooking the feast in kitchen.
He had to admit that he was a little nervous about meeting Reuben’s family. If his family was as arrogant and uptight just like he was, it was going to be a long evening. Especially if Reuben was acting this way about his parents, something was definitely going to go down. He did seem like the type to have parents with high expectations and standards, which Draco knew that he wasn’t qualified for. Even though Reuben was how he was, he didn’t want to leave a bad impression on his family, but he couldn’t make any promises either. He knew that he was going to have to prepare himself to probably listen to his parent’s brag about how much money they make and how proud they are to have a Pediatrician as a son. He released a long sigh as he collected a some-what clean outfit, completely ignoring the pressed suit and tie that Reuben picked out for him, and headed into the bathroom. 
***
Draco took his time in the shower, not wanting to leave the bathroom at all and face a room of strangers. He already started to feel slightly worse from when he had woken up, seeing how his nose had begun to leak and itch more profoundly and his throat was really becoming agitated. He could already hear a few unfamiliar voices carrying into the restroom that made him uneasy. He was a complete stranger getting dumped into a family meet and greet. He knew that he would feel out of place and like he didn’t belong but there was no way to escape. All of his guests had already arrived and were chatting up a storm in the other room. He could make out Lirin’s high pitched voice, which gave him at least a little bit of comfort, but the other few voices made him release a tense sigh. This was going to be weird, but it was better to hurry up and get this over with now.
Draco slowly opened the bathroom door, deciding that it was time to leave the steamy bathroom so that the stuffy, warm air could stop making his nose leak so damn much. He carefully peered down the hallway, instantly being greeted by unfamiliar faces. There was a man with brown hair and glasses in a dark suit, looking like an older version of Reuben just with stubbles on his chin that was having a conversation with a mature woman, looking young for her age, with long, luscious brown hair; They looked like they had professions related in business or sales.
“Speak of the devil, that must be the man of the hour! My son here’s been tellin’ me all about ya!” The man in the suit said with open arms as Draco approached the group. He instantly pulled the rugged man in for a tight hug that took the breath away from him and caused him to cough over the man’s shoulder. “Don’t be shy! We’re all family here.” After a brief moment, he finally let go and gave Draco a good look over. “You look well! Seems like you’ve made yourself right at home.” The rugged man remained silent, unsure of how to respond to the sudden change of tone from his last sentence.
“Oh, don’t mind him, honey.” The woman said as she straightened up Draco’s shirt. “Donovan’s always been such a hard-ass to all of Reuben’s new friends, haven’t you, Donny?” She said, abruptly giving Donovan a death glare. “My name’s Colette.” Before he could even reply to the woman, Donovan stepped closer to Draco with judging eyes.
“I just don’t want my son to have any bad influences or distractions. You know how it is.” Draco took an uncomfortable step backwards, feeling the tense atmosphere weighing on his shoulders. He already felt like he was being pulled in both directions from both parents. The rugged man froze, feeling like the dark glare from Reuben’s father was judging his every move and action. He curses internally, feeling his nose start to run again, knowing that he can’t do anything about it at this moment.
“Dad I’ve told you countless times, he’s not a distraction. I’ve been doing just fine even with him here.” Reuben said through an irritated sigh as he stressfully massaged the bridge of his nose. Donovan instantly approaches Reuben with a stern voice, clearly not fond of the entire situation. It seemed like none of his words were getting through to him.
“Mmm. And just how long does this Draco plan on staying here?” The rugged man forcefully took this opportunity to turn around and grab a few tissues and wipe his nose, before the leakage had the chance to become visible. A hint of relief crosses over him as he quietly blew into the tissues. It was a soft enough blow to the point where it didn’t draw any attention away from the conversation.
“Ease up, darling. It’s Christmas. We came down here to enjoy the holiday with our son and niece. Besides, Draco looks like a responsible young man. If our son says he’s fine with him being here, leave it at that.”
“Yeah, Draco is SUCH a RESPONSIBLE young man.” Lirin childishly chimed in, hugging Reuben loosely from his side. “You should see how RESPONSIBLE he is when he’s drunk.” She smirked. Draco bit his tongue, trying his best to catch himself from saying an angry remark. Just hearing her sarcasm made him clench his teeth.
“Is that so…?” The voice of a clearly intrigued and curious woman fills the room as Sicily enters the house and locks the door behind her. “We’ll have to grab a drink later.” She flashes Draco a charming wink that makes him instantly look away.
"Sicily, darling! We thought you wouldn't be able to make it! What a pleasant surprise!" Colette exclaims in surprise as she embraces the woman. “Is that alcohol I smell on your breath?”
"Mom, relax. What are you, a police officer? It’s Christmas!” Sicily’s entrance cuts through the tense atmosphere as she gives Donovan, Reuben and Lirin a hug in greeting. “Anywho, don’t be shy now, Draco, was it?” She gave the rugged man a playful nudge in his side as she pulled him over onto the couch. Draco doesn't fight her as he allows himself to be forced down onto the couch, feeling both relieved that he got snatched away from the demonic man, but also, dare he say 'happy' to see Sicily for a second time. "Some parents, huh?" She says after observing Draco's facial expressions. "I know. Dad can be quite the handful. Just make sure mom doesn't get a hold of any wine, or that could be a real shit-show." She giggled to herself as she kicked off her boots. “Last year, mom had a liiiiittle too much of the holiday nog and almost broke all of my drinking glasses. Wanna know how? She was throwing them at pops for losing 10 grand in one of his stock investments.” Another, louder giggle erupts from Sicily, earning a darted glare from Donovan towards Draco. 
“Um, excuse me everyone. Dinner is almost ready, so if you all could please relocate to the dining room…” Reuben muttered, placing the dinner rolls on the table.”
  ***
“Honey, this looks delicious!” Colette exclaims, looking at all of the food Reuben had prepared. It did look delicious. How one man could make so many different dishes all by himself beat Draco. He did a really nice job with everything, but of course, he wasn’t going to tell Reuben that.
“Let’s dig in!!” Lirin exclaimed before instantly chowing down on her over-piled plate. She was the first to make her plate before anyone else cold even touch the food.
There were so many silverware and differently sized plates on the table and it made Draco squirm internally. It felt like he was being setup. He and Reuben both knew that he didn’t have any knowledge about dining etiquette, or any etiquette in general. Hell- he doesn’t even know the name of anything that’s on his plate! He’s sure that everything on the dining table was fancy and had a L or Lu in front of it. He wouldn’t be surprised if Reuben’s family called their glasses of water: L’agua. 
The rugged man watched as all of the family members delicately picked up their proper utensils and began to elegantly cut and eat the food on their plates. It was like he was in the realm of gods and goddesses and he was the only human in sight, attempting to mimic their custom. Even Lirin somehow managed to mask her gluttony. It was hard to even think about eating, seeing how he could barely survive the coldhearted looks that Donovan was darting his way. He could tell that he was subtly watching him, waiting to see which utensil he would pick up first and judge him if he grabbed at the wrong one.
“Aren’t you going to eat, Draco?” Reuben’s mom gave him a concerned look as she noticed he hadn’t touched his plate. “Your food will get cold soon. It really is good, I promise!” 
"Mom? Please." She whispered, feeling insulted. "Hey Draco, wanna blow this joint and go get some drinks? Lirin tells me you're a real drinker."
“I thought you’d never ask…” He replied with a nervous laugh, giving Reuben almost a puppy dog look of ‘please let me leave, this is my only escape.’ His parents tried to talk them out of it, but of course, Draco can’t be talked out of consuming alcohol.
***
 The music being played from the piano at the back of the bar rang blissfully in their ears as they entered the bar. It wasn’t too crowded, surprisingly. A soft aroma of alcohol filled the air as the two slowly approached the counter. There was a nice Christmas tree set up near the piano that lit up the room, with a male bartender wiping out a glass behind the counter.
“How can I help you?” The man said as he tossed the towel onto his shoulder and sat the glass down onto the rack.
“Let me get two shots of Bourbon for me and my friend here please.” Sicily ordered as she took a seat on the bar stool. The bartender nodded in understanding as he grabbed a bottle and started pouring the alcohol. Draco hesitantly sat down in the stool beside the woman, still tense and a bit uncomfortable with going into a bar with the pediatrician’s sister. “Relax, I just want to loosen up and have a couple of drinks with you.” She muttered, pulling out a cigarette from the paper carton and resting it on her rose red lips. She shared a short glance with Draco before it was awkwardly broken by the rugged man pretending to clear his throat.
 As the night went on, the fuzzier his head was beginning to feel. He had only had 5 shots and he could already feel himself starting to get a little more than tipsy. It was weird; Usually he could down more shots than this without feeling a buzz this early on. He could hardly think, let alone keep up with what Sicily was saying, not like what she was saying mattered, anyway. Draco was sure that she was one shot away from being completely plastered, seeing how her cheeks were flushed and her words were so slurred that it was a challenge to understand a word coming from her.
“It’s nice to let lose every once in a while, and take a break from all this classy shit.” She says, hoping to break the tension while allowing a long sigh to escape from her lips, causing a stream of gray smoke to bounce off of the counter-top and disperse into the air.
"You're tellin' me..." Draco muttered, grabbing the shot glass from the bartender and immediately scarfing it down like it were a dose a vicodine. "I could barely manage back there."
"Yeah..." Sicily distantly mutters, glaring down at the shot glass in her hand for a moment before irritably scarfing it down as well with haste.
“HhH’EGJISCH…!! ‘EGSSCHIUH!!” The rugged man dove forwards over the counter, holding his glass of whiskey away from him in vain so that hopefully it didn’t spill when he jerked forward with both of his itchy explosions. “O-oh shit! *hic*” He yelled with a breathy chuckle, finding humor from both Sicily’s laughter and the discovery of a small splash of alcohol that had spilled onto the counter from his glass. Sicily had toppled over onto the drunk man’s chest in laughter, struggling to breathe from how hard she was laughing. Draco’s own laughter abruptly stopped as the burning in his nostrils was still intense and flaring about.
“HhUH…!!” He sloppily leaned backwards with a deep inhale, barely able to stay upright from the weight of Sicily leaned so close up against him. He can feel his nostrils trembling in irritation from the burning as he slams his eyelids shut and dipped forwards again, slamming his glass onto the counter-top.
“Hhih…! Hhg’TIZSSCH’uhh! *hic* h-HUhgDzZSSCH’uhgg!!” His reflexes aren’t in tune from the alcoholic fuzziness as he is slow in turning his head away from the drunk woman. The first sneeze flies over Sicily’s head and lands on the counter-top, but he is able to partially turn his head over to the right and aim the second slurred mess of a sneeze towards the ground. Sicily shrieks in surprise from the two loud sneezes, feeling his chest tense up and shove her forwards, but she instantly smothered her chuckles into her hands as she pulled away from Draco and took a sip of alcohol from her shot glass. The rugged man brings up a sluggish, curled knuckle to lazily wipe underneath his faintly twitching nostrils, only to feel how moist and leaky they had been.
“Sh-shidt… Hheh…” He tries to cup his hand in order to lazily cover the disgusting mess on the lower half of his face, but before he can even ask for a tissue, his chest inflates quickly, forcing him to lean back once more with a disturbed grimace on his face. “
Sicily sloppily reaches into her purse, fumbling over herself as she takes out her handkerchief and shoves it into his cupped hand.
“Pineapple!” Sicily yelled abruptly, before he could even finish the oncoming sneeze.
“HhUHh’G-ghhn…?” The forceful hitch is instantly interrupted as his fuzzy and sluggish brain tried to wrap his mind around the randomness of the word pineapple. He sat there for a moment, confused, still waiting for the impending sneeze but the tingling in his sinuses had slightly died down to a quieter itch at the back of his nose.
“Ahh YEP, works everytimee.” She tiredly mused, downing her last shot of whiskey. Two hiccups escaped from her mouth once she downed her last shot and she giggled to herself before she flipped the shot glass upside down onto the counter.
“I use’to do thaht with Reuben when he’ws younger. That boy hadth’ most sensitive nose I’d ever seen. Once he start’d sneezin’ there was no goin’ back. ‘less you yell ‘pineapple!’ a’the right time. That’ll do it.” She muttered, fighting the effects of the alcohol that were trying to make her pass out on the counter-top.
"Hey... I wann' tell you somethin' an... An' you bettnot l-laugh..." The rugged man rubbed his face, feeling his mouth and tongue gradually becoming numb. It was definitely weird. He was feeling a lot of things tonight, both good and bad. He looked at Sicily with tired eyes, watching her back rise and sink with each breath she took as she rested on the counter with her head faced down in her arms. She grunted softly, as if signaling to Draco that she was still listening. "I... I r-really like you, you know tha?"
"Oh, that's nice. Me too." She muttered, giggling softly in her folded arms. At that moment, Draco's heart flew out of his chest as he struggled to sit upright.
"I'll have the ramen too. No eggs..." She weakly reached out to grab Draco's arm and shook it gently, "Please no eggs. I don't want eggs." He sighed and rolled his eyes, realizing that Sicily must've been talking in her sleep.
   December 25th 
“Hhg’tdsszhh! ‘Egsschh!!” The two tired sneezes were lazily stifled and released into the air as he shuffled around covered in his soft blanket in which he wore like an oversized jacket. He gently scrunches his nose around, feeling the tickle remaining at the same strength. He was lifelessly lying on the couch, too fatigued to do anything. Too exhausted to even sniff away the wetness leaking from his sore nostrils. What was the point? He had been sniffling and snuffling all night; every time he sneezed, the wetness quickly returned anyway. He was so congested to the point where it sounded like he was inhaling pudding every time he took a breath. The room was still dark, besides the random flashing lights of the elegant Christmas tree in the corner of the room. He audibly winced from the pressure pounding in his head with the pulsing of his veins. Drinking alcohol all day probably wasn't the best call, he had to admit. He felt so worn out and tired but he couldn't fall asleep; Not even the word Christmas could bring his spirits up. He snuffled lightly, too exhausted to even sniffle as hard as he needed to. His body tensed up reflexively as a shiver crept down his spine, forcing his body to quiver every once in a while. Blankets. N-need more blankets. A-and huhh-
“Draco…? Are you up?” The soft, sleepy and tender voice of Sicily cuts through his suffering as he can just barely see a thin figure slowly approaching from down the hall. She slowly made her way over to the couch and noticed the poor, sickly body lying there in pain. Her sleepy expression changes instantly to concerned when she observes the sick body closely. “Draco, you look horrible!” She exclaimed in an intense whisper, not trying to wake up the sleeping pediatrician. She held his clammy cheeks and frowned, giving them a smooth rub with her thumb to clear the sweat away. “You’re boiling! And-- Oh...”
"Ehh'hoOo! Hh-hih- HIH'gdzssh!" He can feel his cheeks start to blush a light pink as he barely realizes that he had sneezed on Sicily's neck and chest; He wanted to pull away but he was too exhausted and fever struck to do anything.
“HEH'Ssgk! ’M-m alrigh’. ‘ll jus’… Jus’ do the sleep. EEH'HooOgk! Hih'gSHUHhgk!Tiredhh…” He muttered, finding it complicated to compose the proper sentences and to communicate in general. At this point, he had partially given up stifling, forcing his sneezes to sound like a mixture of a cough and a mild yell. Sicily gave him a worried look, finding it odd to see a person so delusional and out if sorts. She was too worried to feel disgusted.
“Hey, Draco! Wake up! I ne...ed you t.. sta... Awa... Ke..!"
Draco wasn’t sure what dimension he had stumbled upon, but he couldn't hear or see Sicily anymore; He felt like he was asleep but at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he was. The blackness around him began to swirl into a spiral as if he were entering a portal, and before he could comprehend what was happening, he was back home in his old house. All the lights were off in the house but the single overhead kitchen light, which severed as a homing beacon to the rugged man. There was a tall, slender woman that stood hovering over the stove, humming an all too familiar tune.  
“Mm?” The woman slowly turned around to face the rugged man as if she were moving through molasses. The crimson locks resting beneath her shoulders dangled behind her back as she gave him a pained smile. “Just in time for dinner. Have a seat.” The bags underneath her eyes were complimented with a subtle dark circle, indicating that she had been overly exhausted and worn out for days on end. “Dinner’s almost ready.” 
“N-no, I...” Something isn’t right. Before he could do anything, the creaking of the front door catches his attention.
“M-mom...?” His words came out sluggish and muffled, as if he were moving in a time warp. With each hesitant step he took, the world around him blurred and swashed around, colors blending and smothering each other like dye on cake batter. The single word that he spoke seemed to echo for ages and bounce off of the walls and floors with a weird reverb like they were in a mutated cave. 
“You heard your mother, boy.” A dark tone from behind brings a boil to the blood flowing throughout Draco’s veins. He knew that voice all too well.  “Sit like a good dog.” 
“You...” He clenches his fists, feeling all of his uncontrollable anger rising to the surface.
“Draco. Draco, get up! Draco--!?”  He could barely hear the screams of his mother behind him as he was too busy dashing towards the figment of his father with a bawled fist, ready for a solid punch.
“I’LL KILL YOU!! YOU FUCKING MONSTER!!!” His own battle cries begin to drown out the loud crackling of the now roaring fire engulfing the walls and flooring. The dark, bulky body in front of him kept a cool smirk on his face, even in the given situation, which angered the rugged man and the fire even more.
“Draco, stop it!! Draco--!!!” The fear-filled screams from his mother began to cut in and out, almost mutating into the worried screams of the pediatrician.“Draco!!! Stop! Wake up! Blast--, he’s not responding!” Reuben yelled as he was holding on to Draco’s arms.
“We need to get him into some cold water, NOW! Start the bath!” Sicily nodded and darted for the bathroom, immediately starting to fill the tub with the coldest water she could. "Draco, you're hallucinating! WAKE UP, DAMN IT!" There was a slight shakiness to Reuben's voice as he struggled to pin the rugged man down. He had been in situations like this before and seen it plenty of times, but something about seeing Draco in such a broken state filled the pediatrician with more than just a little worry. 
“I-I’ll fucking--... Kill you... I swear it...”  The rugged man exhaustedly muttered, trying to punch the air but failing, since Reuben was holding him down in place.
"Reuben, the tubs halfway full!" Sicily yelled from the bathroom. The pediatrician signals for her to come and help him drag the sick corpse into the bathroom, in which she doesn't hesitate to do.
He was a tall, heavy and sickly thing. It took them a while to get him off of the couch with him fighting the two while weakly kicking and punching at the air as if doing so would hurt his invisible enemy. You could imagine how tough it was for them to force him into the bathroom, let alone the freezing bathtub.
"Help me get his shirt and jeans off..." Reuben muttered to his sister as he forced the rugged man to sit down on the toilet lid.
"W-whahd are yhou d-doig, pervert?!" Draco yelled, eyes sluggishly tracing the room and barely staying open. "G-Gedhh... HEH'Gdzsshiew!" The sneeze sprays the pediatrician’s pajama shirt as he temporarily flinches in disgust, but he doesn't let it bother him. He's in pure focus mode, as a trained pediatrician should be. "EHHgtsshnk!! Thad's whad you ged, b-bast.. bah.. heh-"
"Don't mind him, Sicily. He'll be fine." He says, noting Sicily watching with an expression on her face that he couldn’t read, but mainly to himself to give him some sort of relief while dealing with the given situation. He bites his lip, having mixed feelings about the situation. "L-Let's get him into the tub." The two nearly shove the rugged man into the cold pool of water, causing a lot of it to be spilled onto the bathroom floor. It only takes a second of being in the freezing water for him to snap out of it and realize where he was. Reuben sighs, feeling his heart nearly beating out of its chest. He had never seen Draco in such a state before in his life, and it worried him more than any patient he ever had. “Could you use this cup and pour some cold water over him?” He says, handing Sicily the small cup. “We still need to cool his body temperature down before he overheats. I need to go ge… some water. T-towels…” Before Sicily can even say anything, Reuben darted out of the room and closed the door behind him. She knew exactly what that meant.
“I need to ge… some water. T-towels…”
She heard him repeat it in her head. The tone in his voice when he said it. The strain and slight shake towards the ending. The pause in between and after. She gripped the cup tighter in slight anger. Two loud coughs from the rugged man jolt Sicily out of her own thoughts and redirect her attention. She can’t help but give the rugged man a good gloss over. He was visibly shivering in place, causing little ripples to bang against to tub walls. He looked like a dead corpse that still managed to breathe in her eyes. His red nose didn’t even attempt to hold back the sickly fluids that dripped down onto his chin and bare chest. He was too cold and out of it to care or do anything about it. She could see a tinge of black starting to linger underneath his eyes and his cheeks looked like pieces of cotton candy against his ghostly pale skin. She dipped the cup in the water on his side until it was submerged in the water and poured it over his head. He didn’t even flinch. He was probably too dazed to even feel the cold water, she thought to herself.
“… ‘ts c-cold m-mom-mm…” He barely mutters through chattering teeth, slowly closing his eyes and leaning back into the tub. Sicily immediately drops the cup and grabs the rugged man before his back can fully sink into the tub.
“Draco! Hey-hey, you have to sit up! Look at me!” She says, voice sounding strained from pushing the rugged man forward to sit upright. Draco doesn’t respond, allowing his body to fully go limp into Sicily’s arms. Sicily grunts, barely being able to keep Draco above the water from her current position. She hunches over the bathtub, trying to find the right position to comfortably hold Draco upright, but falls forward into the cold water on top of him. She releases a heavy exhale from the abrupt submersion in cold water and immediately pulls Draco’s upper half out of the water and into her chest as if he were hugging her. The rugged man takes in an immediate deep gasp and releases a handful of wet coughs over her shoulder, shivering like a madman. The woman gives a soft smile to herself, feeling the grown mans body tremble underneath her arms. She allows her fingers to rest on his clammy back, enjoying the feeling of his body up against hers so tight and closely. She closes her eyes, feeling warm from both Draco’s body and the happiness and comfort of Draco’s embrace. It felt as if time stood still for ages as the two leaned up against each other in the tub. Draco’s body had calmed down from the event, besides the constant sniffles, and they just sat there together. Holding each other. 
“S-Sicily…” Draco’s faint whisper barely cut through the thin silence.
“It’s me, Draco.” She whispered back softly, still resting her head atop of Draco’s shoulder and hugging him. The rugged man slowly pulled away and nuzzled their foreheads together. She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the company of the rugged man. She moaned softly, feeling the warmth from his forehead rub against hers. The warmth from his fever radiated off of his face against her skin, summoning a faint smirk to cross her lips. She can feel her heart race a little from the shift in the room as she feels a cold hand rake through the side of her hair. She flinches as the cold water from his hand drip down her left side. His hot breath comforts her as she smells a hint of Marlboro and leftover booze beam closer. She can feel his shaky breaths get stronger and closer as his warm lips come in contact with hers. He gives her a long peck on her soft lips, allowing her body language to convey to him if he should stop or proceed. She gasps internally, half knowing what was happening and half not. She doesn’t fight it though, and brings up a hand to trace a line down his chest as he pulls her closer and gives her two more deep kisses. He can’t help but moan as she gently pushes his head closer to hers. It was a very intimate moment, that’s for sure. If Draco had any questions, they had all been answered right now.
He slowly pulls away and nuzzles her forehead again, allowing them both to catch their breath. Sicily’s eyes were locked onto his as she seductively licked her lips, signaling that she was ready for more. He swallows down a cough as she leans up against his chest again, but this time, pushing him back and forcing him to lay his back against the curve of the tub wall. Draco is caught off guard by this action and flinches, uncertain of what she was going to do next. He can feel his heart begin to race as she starts to give him kisses on the top half of his chest.  Once she reaches his neck, she rests her body on his and starts to give him pecks all over his face. She reaches his nose and gives it two pecks, feeling her insides start to get all warm and excited.
Her adrenaline was rushing all over for many different reasons. She knew about Reuben. She knew about him being gay and she knew about his sneezing fetish. She knew he had the hots for Draco way before he himself probably did. She knew that something was off when he said he needed to get some water. He couldn’t handle Draco sneezing on him or him being practically naked in the bathtub. She herself didn’t have the fetish, but she was overly curious about what was so appealing about it. She couldn’t knock it until she tried it at least; she was already in the mood to get dirty with Draco. It did give her a rush knowing that she had the man Reuben had his eyes on. She was doing things to Draco that Reuben would probably never get to do. Draco sneezing on him was probably the closest thing he would ever get. 
“S-Sicily I—… Hh…” He whispered weakly, closing his eyes and slowly lifting a hand to his face. She immediately grabs his wrist and shoves it back down into the water and holds his other hand hostage under the water as well.
“I know.” She says, watching his red, glistening nose twitch above her. Another peck from Sicily occurs on top of his nose. She can feel his chest rise with another weak inhale. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind. Just sneeze.” Draco snuffles twice, giving Sicily a confused glare.
“W-waih wah?” He says, trying to lift his hand again only to have Sicily press more weight down against it and prevent him from doing so.
“You heard me.” She reaches her head up to Draco’s, using her nose to lightly rub against the moist rims of his nose to try to coax out the sneeze before he can say anything else.
“B-but I ne—” Sicily shushes him and pecks him on the lips before continuing to rub his nose in different patterns and speeds. He produces two loud snuffles, sounding both thick and wet, which creates a spark in Sicily’s eye. “W-wa- HhiH… Hih! W-wahd are y-you HiHh…. Hh-doig??” He manages to say before tilting his head back against his will, involuntarily trying to escape from the induced tickling sensation on his already sensitive nose. She reaches up to follow him, giving a subtle giggle, enjoying the chase.
“Stop fighting me and just do it already.” She says as she can feel his chest practically jumping with each stuttered inhale. Cold, clear sick coats the tip of her nose as she feels his nostrils twitching up against it. She knew that it was building up in there to the point where his nose was crying and leaking sick tears for a release.
“HhuH! …. Hh-hUh! HhIH!” She tightens the grip on his wrists in anticipation, feeling slightly aroused by it all. It was like waiting for the inevitable. A devilish smile creases her lips as she watches the rugged man’s face grimace in torment. He snuffles thickly a few times in vain, as the sick just leaked immediately back down anyway; he just accepted the fate of not being able to use his hands. He felt awkward not being able to have the freedom to cover his mouth. He wanted to turn away from her but he knew that wasn’t what she wanted. He curses mentally, feeling a little embarrassed but more irritated with the pestering itch in his sinuses.
“HIH… HHIH…! HHG’TIZGSSSSCHK’ughh!” She slams her eyes shut and flinches hard, unprepared for the sudden cold spray of sickly fluids. She wasn’t sure what position she was supposed to be in for the actual sneeze. She was too intrigued by the satisfaction of him suffering with his nose to think that far ahead. But this was something… new. “H-HUhgDzZSSSGCCH’kguhgg!! ‘HEEHGSSZCHH’uhh!!!” The second batch of mist sprays her face and she can feel glops of sick make contact with her face and chest that start to slowly drip down. At first she’s disgusted, but she is oddly satisfied in a way. The third sneeze hits her back-to-back with a new batch of wetness, and by this point, she feels like she’s being rewarded for her good deeds. A subtle moan is released, more to herself as she realizes that she liked it more than she thought she would. “Eh… HehhgKSSZCHHh’kt!!” She squirms, feeling a rush when his body jerks underneath her from the harsh coughs that follow; the rattling coughs remind him of how much he feels like a pile of crap all over again. Sick was all over both of them and he knew it. It was hard not to hide all of it, especially since he didn’t have his hands to cover or wipe away at it, and his nose was practically drooling over her nose tickling his. There was bound to be a lost of discharge. He can feel his cheeks start to flush a dark red from embarrassment as he tries so hard to sniff everything away. All he wanted to do was get out of the bath and hide on the couch. “S-sorry.” He mutters between sniffles and nose twitches, feeling slightly guilty as he tried to clean himself up without his hands.
“Thanks.” She says, kissing his now sick coated lips and giving him a smile. “Now I know.” Draco pauses for a moment, surprised at what he was hearing. Was he still hallucinating from the fever?
“Huh..??” He says, overly congested, trying to clean himself up with the bath water now that his hands are free.
“Now I know that you are the one… And this secret stays between us.” She said with a final kiss before getting out of the tub. The whole time she dried herself and left the room, Draco was still sitting there dumbfounded, overly confused about everything. He didn’t know how to feel. He was happy that he pretty much made out with his newfound crush, but… What the hell just happened??? Was any of this real..? N-no… It couldn’t have been…
“… I need to go the fuck to sleep…” He muttered before sinking into the tub again
***
“Reuben, I don’t care! I wanna open gifts now!” A loud, high-pitched voice rings the ears of Draco and causes him to stir awake against his will. “We’ve waited long enough! It’ll be New Years if we wait for him to get up!”
The rugged man sluggishly cracked open an eyelid to be blinded by the Christmas lights from the tree and the fire in the fireplace. Someone must’ve moved me back onto the couch… What the fuck… Immediately he feels his nose start to run like a faucet as he tries to sit up on the couch. He grimaces when his body aches and finds it a challenge to even sit upright. He sniffles a few times, trying to stop the leakage but it does nothing but make the sick dance around in his nostrils before returning back to the same spot it was in before so he just gives up and lets it stay there, too fatigued to attempt to blow his nose or wipe it. His heart skips a beat as he notices Sicily lying on the floor right beside the couch.
“Look who’s awake!” The pediatrician says, relieved to see him up and at ‘em. “Did we wake you?” Draco only sniffles in return, feeling grumpy and too sick to respond. He just wanted it to end. And by it, he means everything. This damn cold, flu, whatever the hell that kid gave him, Christmas, this day, pretty much EVERYTHING. Just leave him alone. “You should go back to bed and get some rest if you still aren’t feeling that well, Draco.”
“I wahs tryig do before your loud ass woge be ubp!” He yelled congestedly, coughing into the blanket right after. He winces, feeling his entire body feeling sore; inside and out. It felt like his whole body would break if he coughed or sneezed again.
“Okay, okay! Everybody calm down.” Reuben says, looking more towards Lirin as she raised a fist to him. “Don’t get too riled up, Draco. Your body is still recovering.” The rugged man leans back into the couch feeling defeated and overtaken by pain. He just wanted someone to put him out of his misery.
“I… I deed sobe paid bedicinde.” He mumbles through wet sniffles, sounding clearly beat down and worn.
“I’ll get them.” Sicily says, stretching from the floor before Reuben can leave the room. He freezes for a second but then nods in acceptance for her to get the meds. She returns a moment later, with the bottle of NyQuil and pours him a cup.
“I deed like… dhree o’ dhose…” He mutters through a strained voice as he shots the cap of medicine down.
“You ‘deed’ to blow your nose.” She jokingly mocks, pouring him a second cap full of NyQuil and handing him some tissues. He snuffles dismissively and jokingly steals the cap, chugging it down and returning it back to her with a mumbled ‘fuck you’ under his breath. She giggles, feeling slightly relieved that the old Draco was starting to come back a little. Reuben distantly watches the two from the distance, feeling a little excluded and odd. He knew something was going on here, but he wasn’t sure.
The gurgling sound in the tissues grabs the attention of the entire room as Draco gives one good blow into the handful of tissues. One blow and that’s it. Fuck it. He was too tired and that single blow took the wind and force away from him. He weakly coughed a few times into the tissues and threw them onto the floor, immediately sinking back into the couch.
“Let’s do the fucking gifts so you assholes can get out and leave me the hell alone.” He mutters, voice barely audible.
***
The gift exchange was fun for the most part. Everyone was having a great time except for Draco of course. Everyone seemed happy with their gifts. Reuben bought him a brand-new motorcycle so that he didn’t have to Uber or wait for him to drive him around. Lirin bought him a book on tips for being sober. And Sicily went out and got him a new flask with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a pack of Marlboros. One thing he could say was that this was the first Christmas that he had in a long while that actually felt homie. And it was the first Christmas that he had been too sick to participate in the festivities for.
“Alright Draco. Thanks for being apart of our Christmas and opening the gifts. We’ll get out and let you rest.” Reuben says, watching the NyQuil already start to take its’ toll.
Reuben and Lirin walk out of the room, leaving Sicily and Draco together again. She was sitting beside the rugged man on the right side of the couch. They sat together in a peaceful silence, besides Draco sniffling every couple of seconds. He didn’t mind her company. If anything, he was glad that she decided to stay.
“Alright, you’re tired. Time to go back to sleep.” Sicily says as she tries to get comfortable on the couch. “Come here.” She gently tugs on his arm for him to come closer to her on the couch. He exhaustedly obliges and nearly collapses into her chest, shifting around to get comfortable in her embrace. She blushes a little, feeling his head resting on her chest. Best Christmas gift ever, she thought to herself. She closed her eyes and raked her fingers through his damp hair, massaging his scalp as she tried to fall asleep wit the sick rugged man. She cracks an eye open as she feels the rugged man shift uncomfortably in her embrace and freeze before lightly jerking forwards twice, releasing two weak sneezes aimed at the floor.
“Hhuh’kgDTzsshn! Eh’Dsschkn!” The two weak sneezes take whatever energy he had left and he doesn’t even sniffle, feeling his entire body becoming too tired to do anything at the moment. He can only release a shaky exhale and collapse into Sicily’s embrace. She smiles, feeling overwhelmingly happy at the situation.
“Merry Christmas to me…” She happily mutters to herself before joining Draco in a long, well deserved sleep. 
END. 
Hopefully it was worth the wait LOL XD A lot is going on in this fic but I like’d working on it even though I had some intense writers blocks lol xD Like I said, I’m working on like 5 different fics all at the same time hahaha so hopefully I can post those because I been writing a lot, just not all on the same fic ahaha.
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