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5thmarauderwrites · 4 years

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Blurted Confession — Remus Lupin x Slytherin Reader Request.

Requests are: OPEN.

Requested by Anonymous: “could you do a remus x slytherin reader where the marauders are all in class and see her with a hufflepuff friend and he's like... wait she's so NICE actually? just a lot of fluff in general 👉🏻👈🏻“.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Slytherin!Reader.

Word Count: 1,7K

Warnings: None, it’s fluff all the way.

A/N: This was my first time ever writing for Remus and I loved every second of it because: Remus is baby. [insert here a cute emoji]. Hope you like it, Anon! <3

Remus had the vague notion that Professor McGonagall’s voice was tolling in the background as she explained the fundamentals of the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell to her very attentive students, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to a word she was saying. Instead of being focused on the extremely difficult subject being taught by one of the most strict Professors Hogwarts has ever had, his chocolate eyes were glued to a very interesting and unexpected scene: a y/h/c Slytherin girl he had seen – and not so discreetly stared at – quite some times, mostly in the library, chatting happily with a Hufflepuff girl. And they seemed really close?

The girl had intrigued the boy ever since he first saw her; she was reading one of his favourite muggle stories in the Wooden Bridge, which happened to be one of his favourite places in the castle to get lost inside his books. However, he never really got the chance to talk to her. If he was being honest, talking to her was something he was never entirely sure he wanted to do, since she seemed extremely intimidating; mostly, he knew, because of the house she was sorted into.

Remus was never one to judge a book by its cover; he definitely did not hold any sort of prejudice against all Slytherins. Sure, the house had a few individuals of doubtful character, like Severus Snape, Mulciber and that Avery boy, but then again, they could’ve ended up in any other house. So why was he so intimidated by the fact that Y/N was a Slytherin? Remus knew many of the Slytherins held a profound dislike for the Gryffindors, and maybe, just maybe, that’s what had really refrained him from ever talking to her. Deep down, he was afraid of being rejected by one of the few girls that were actually able to catch his eyes over these five years he had been attending Hogwarts.

“Mr Lupin?” Professor McGonagall called, snapping Remus out of his thoughts. Once he focused on her, he felt a lump starting to form inside his throat as he noticed the clearly displeased glare she was sending him.

“Yes, Professor?” He answered weakly, feeling all the eyes of the room on him.

“Am I boring you with my class?” She asked blatantly, winging her brows.

“No- no,” he muttered, desperately wanting to crawl into a hole, as he hated to be on the spotlight.

“Perhaps you’d rather having Miss L/N explaining today’s lesson to you?” The Professor pursed her lips in annoyance, bending her head to her right. “Since you clearly seem more interested in her than in whatever I have to say.”

Remus felt his cheeks burning as a crimson tone painted his face. “I told you he was looking at her!” He heard James whispering, probably to Sirius.

“Sorry,” Remus was able to mutter after a few seconds.

Minerva McGonagall sent him a last death glare before turning to the blackboard and, waving her wand at it, writing down what she had been explaining since the beginning of the class. Remus quickly grabbed his pieces of parchment and the quill he had packed in his bag this morning and started to furiously take notes, avoiding to glance in Y/N’s direction at all costs.

“Smitten with the little snake, are we Moony?” James Potter wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at his brown-haired friend.

“Oi! Don’t talk about her like that!” Sirius Black scolded him.

Remus and James both snapped his heads towards Sirius and said in unison, “excuse me?”

“Since when do you advocate on behalf of a Slytherin? James asked with an utterly shocked frown.

“She’s friends with Regulus,” the raven-haired boy shrugged. “She always looks out for him, besides she’s the reason why we’re on speaking terms again.”

“Did she help you mend your relationship with your brother?” Remus asked, gobsmacked.

“That and she also helped me when I ran away from home after Walburga had burned my face out of the family tree,” he smiled weakly, his mind clearly traveling back to the dreadful day.

“How so?” James seemed even more shocked than before, if this was even possible.

“Y/N and Regulus were hanging out in his room when my charming mother started to scream at me and command me to leave the house and never come back,” Sirius answered with a grimace. “Y/N came to my room to help me pack my stuff and gave me all the money she had with her, in case I had nowhere to go and needed it.”

“Wow, she’s…” James started, looking for the right words.

“Actually nice,” Remus completed his sentence, completely awestruck.

“She is, Moony,” Sirius smiled at his friend, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “You and she have a lot in common, actually.”

Remus stared at the table with a lopsided grin after Sirius’ words. Y/N was an honourable young woman who had an incredible amount of kindness inside of her. Stealing a glance in her direction, his chocolate eyes locked with her y/e/c ones and Remus could feel his stomach churning inside of his belly as she sent him a sweet smile.

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A week had passed since the Transfiguration class and Remus hadn’t still talked to Y/N, despite Sirius offering again and again to be his wingman and introduce the both of them formally. Even James and Peter tried to boost his confidence by saying she would be crazy not to be interested in him, but the boy still couldn’t help but being afraid of a possible rejection.

Remus kept on studying Y/N and her behaviour for the days to come, noticing how sweet she was to her Hufflepuff friend and how she would stick up for her when some nasty seventh year boys tried to bully the girl. He noticed how she always smiled at herself when reading a book, which he found extremely adorable. He noticed how her eyes would light up when talking about something she was passionate about. He noticed every single little thing about her. What he also noticed is how his heart started to flutter inside his chest at the mere sight of the girl.

“Merlin’s beard! Go talk to her already,” Remus heard the annoyed whisper of Sirius Black in his ear. He had been lost inside his own head for quite a while whilst his eyes involuntarily stared at Y/N from behind a bookshelf.

“What are you doing?” The brown-haired boy hissed with a frown as he turned back to face his friend.

“Helping you with your love life, of course,” Sirius shrugged as if it was obvious.

“I meant here. In the library. You never once stepped a foot in here,” Remus narrowed his eyes.

“Like I said, helping you. You’re looking like a creep hiding in here and staring at her in despair, just go up there and say hi!” Sirius whispered with a poignant urgency, bouncing his arms to reiterate his point.

“I’m not hiding to look at her!” Remus answered exasperatedly. “I was searching for a book!”

“Mate, you weren’t eyeing those books, that’s for sure,” Sirius chuckled as he crossed his arms and leaned against the old bookshelf, his brows defiantly winged.

Remus heaved a sigh as he steadied himself in the bookshelf opposite to Sirius, facing the books disposed ahead of himself and avoiding the gaze of the raven-haired boy, “she seems like a bloody magnet, mate. I… I don’t know, my mind is completely focused on whatever I am doing and next thing I know, my eyes land on her and I just… sort of lose track of time?” He huffed disheartened.

“You really are whipped, aren’t ya?” Sirius shook his head with a smile.

“I guess I am,” Remus nodded, turning his body in Sirius’ direction.

A mischievous smile flickered quickly through Sirius’ lips as he looked behind Remus’ shoulder for a second before turning his attention back to his friend, “tell her that.”

“Tell her what? That I find her extremely kind and sweet? That she is one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen? That I can’t stop thinking about her? That she makes my heart flutter inside my chest? That I’d like to take her out not only in one but in as many dates as she pleased? We don’t even talk to each other. How can I possibly tell her that? Where do I begin from?” Remus blurted out.

“How about by saying hi?” A female voice said from behind him.

Remus widened his eyes in shock as he turned on his heels abruptly and was met by Y/N’s piercing y/e/c eyes. The Slytherin girl had a smile on her face and her lower lip was pressed between her teeth.

“Y/N!” Remus exclaimed, clearly nervous, as his cheeks turned crimson. “Hi!”

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Sirius winked before wiggling his brows and walking away.

“So… Does Remus John Lupin fancy me?” Y/N asked as her own cheeks acquired a pink tone.

“Well, I guess there’s no point in denying when you’ve heard my entire confession…” he started nervously, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“Why would you want to deny it?” Y/N asked and Remus could notice her face falling a little, his heart twinging with hope.

“Because I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in case you don’t feel the same way,” he shrugged, a sweet smile on his lips.

Y/N’s grin widened as she stared into Remus’ chocolate eyes, “well, I could never feel uncomfortable for being fancied by you, not when I’ve been fancying you myself for the past two years.”

“You fancy me?” Remus asked incredulously. “Me? For the past two years?”

“I thought it was obvious, since I can’t seem to stop staring at you,” she shrugged with a giggle.

“Actually, I’ve had my eyes on you for about the same amount of time,” he chuckled, biting his lower lip as he gazed at the ceiling.

“And instead of talking to each other we just stood there hoping the other would notice our crush…” Y/N stated slowly. “Merlin, we’re such idiots!”

“We really are,” Remus agreed, both staring at each other with lopsided grins. “So… would you, maybe… like to go to Hogsmeade with me next month?” He asked after a moment of a comfortable silence.

“There’s nothing I’d like more,” Y/N answered with a wide smile.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black #james potter #the marauders #the marauders imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader

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capochinootea · 3 years

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How the Shishigumi met Baby Louis

Me thinks Baby Louis and Shishigumi wholesome time ^-^

Free

When Free first met Louis, it was in the middle of a shootout. He was 17. Young, brash and bold. A few weeks into the Shishigumi, and he's already considered an elite, impressing those who have climbed the ranks for longer.

It was an unfortunate time when Free was met face-to-face with a child, a herbivore child, no less. Guns drawn, ready to fire at their leader’s command. In all Free’s years of living in the Back Alley Market, this is by far, the most ridiculous thing that has ever happened.

Members of the gang yelled for back up. He was ready. Ready to take on their opponents, but what he sees is a much taller, more mature lion- Ibuki, he realizes, blocking his way, hands extended.

...What?

Confused and slightly irritated, he was handed a child and the lion left to help his comrades. Poor and confused 17-year old Free sat there, as the fawn- aged 6- he guessed- giggled at him, oblivious to the danger they’re both in.

---

Ibuki

Livestock. Ibuki never fancied the business. Even for a gangster lion like him, selling livestock- he thinks of it so immoral. You must be completely fucked down to the core if the mafioso lion has more heart than you.

When news travelled to the Shishigumi of a livestock trafficking ring not having paid their share, Ibuki breathed a sigh of relief. An excuse, he thought.

Finally.

But when he got there, it was like a place after war. It smelled of filth, abandon and decay. The building barely stands, it’s pillars a breath away from collapse.

In it lay a single fawn, blood stained but alive. A living, breathing being surrounded by death, of carcasses and corpses. The fawn looked as though he was the god of death himself, mortalized in a fragile being, cursed to wander the earth, leaving death in his footsteps.

---

Dolph

For a lion who’s lived in the market for more than 2 decades, he thought he had seen it all- the mundane, the gruesome, the ridiculous. Hell, the Shishigumi is proof of that. But somehow, not even the pole dancing mice could top this.Standing there, by the mansion’s gates was Ibuki, a sleeping fawn in his arms, bundled in his suit jacket. If he were any more shocked, his jaw might have hit the ground.

Surely the trip to the livestock trafficking ring didn’t hit Ibuki’s head. If not, then that’s probably not Ibuki at all. He was pretty damned sure that if anyone in the Shishigumi were to replace the old chief (should his ultimate demise were to ever happen- he hoped soon), it would be Ibuki.

Yet he stands there, a soft look in his eyes, the happiest he looked since he joined. He can’t help but feel dumb. The market is just full of surprises.

---

Hino

It was Wednesday night. The mansion silent and empty, its corridors barely illuminated by the hanging low light above . Almost all of the lions had left for the night, sans a few lower goons keeping watch over the gates. Sitting by the hideout’s make-shift home bar, nothing felt out of the ordinary.

He cradled the cheap whiskey in his hands and circled the drink slowly. He watched the drink as it created a mini whirlpool, his reflection on the glass.

His brows furrowed in confusion. Something was amiss. This isn’t right.

His tail moved back and forth, fur standing, mind on edge. Someone foreign was in the mansion. He continued to watch his reflection, but there was no sign of the intruder.

Too late did he realize, as a creature suddenly latched onto his leg. He would've kicked the stranger out of instinct, but when he caught a glimpse of wide ears flinching, the smell of lion on him, all sense of dread died.

Looking down, he sees a fawn, toothily grinning at him, hugging his legs like they were pillows.

“What are you doing here little guy?” Hino crouches, hands folded so as to not hurt the tiny creature.

The fawn giggled, clutching his face in his mini hands. They’re warm, he noted. .

“Mr. Lion!!” He cackled.

And like a child calling for its mother, Ibuki came running up the stairs, his glasses out of place, strands of his mane flying everywhere. He looked like hell.

“Louis!” he called and bolted right after where he sat.

Such a strange sight to see. A huge lion cradling a fawn, no bigger than Ibuki’s hands. A smile found its way to Hino’s flawless features. It’s a beautiful Wednesday night.

---

Sabu

He’s getting old, he realizes. His mane is getting harder to grow, his joints more prone to aches. He wonders if growing old is a gift, with what dangers lurking in the Back Alley Market. You’re lucky if you still have all your limbs intact by the age of 30.

Sitting by the kitchen counter, he closes his eyes. Ah, well it’s not like he could complain. In fact, he’s lucky to be alive, limbs and all.

“Up!”

He cracks one eye open.

..What?

“Up! Up!” Standing there, a creature unlike him. A fawn. No older than 6 he thinks. Clutching what he assumes is a stuffed animal, a small pout laced its face.

He had so many questions.

“Up! Up!!!” The fawn demanded, now running around, making soft tap tap taps against the floors of the mansion.

How youthful, he thought, picking up the child, giggling as his arms wrap around its tiny waist.

“Funny lion man!” it cackles, now trying to climb his head, to touch his mane. He assumes his mohawk is a different sight from what the fawn usually sees.

He still has so many questions.

He let the fawn play with his mane, not minding the strands that now fall against his face, covering his eyes.

“Ibuki!!” the tiny fawn suddenly shrieked, hurriedly trying to climb down from his now lopsided mane. He watches the young fawn dash to the other, who caught him as he propelled himself in the air.

How youthful, he thought again.

---

Miguel

It’s not like he’s not used to the fearful looks most herbivores and even the lesser carnivores give him. He’s big, brawny, a lion through and through. A literal king of the beast. To say he was used to the wary stares, the jealous glares, is the simple truth.

His footsteps alone are enough to spook a sheep down to its very core. He need not speak to intimidate a room full of hyenas, no. Even baring his fangs would be too much.

Which is why he found this whole ordeal completely and utterly ridiculous.

A tiny fawn stood before him, staring up at him. Fearless, he thinks. No! He was awestruck… mouth agape and ears perked up. He looked at him like he’s something to behold.

“Big Lion Man!!!” it cackles.

Odd..

It was so odd.

He felt his heart swell beneath the hard muscle, beneath tendons, flesh and bones. Never before has a creature looked at him with such delight. From a herbivore no less.

---

Jinma and Dope

If there’s any duo more suited to work together in the Shishigumi, the title befalls on one Jinma and Dope. Another successful negotiation. Another night of festivities.

Tonight, the table was decorated with an assortment of meals, meat cooked to perfection. A flawless buffet. An impeccable occasion.

Until Jinma caught a glimpse of movement beneath the table covers. An intruder? A spy? That’s impossible. It just is. He knows no one would have balls big enough to go alone in the Shishigumi headquarters unscathed.

He eyed the table covers with great intensity. He squints, watching the creases of the fabric, waiting to see any sign of movement. Nothing. Not until a foreign tiny hand slipped under the covers to grab a lone piece of meat sat atop the table.

In an instant, he lifted the white sheet, uncovering the thief hidden below the covers. He expected a young lowly canine, or mayhaps a racoon, only to find a giggling fawn munching on the small piece of meat he’s stolen.

“The fuck..” he heard someone mutter behind him. Dope, he thinks.

“Hello!” The young deer greeted, mouth full of meat.

This is weird.

Jinma watches as the fawn finally moves to unveil himself out of the white sheets, walking towards Dolph, who picks him up like it was something he’d done before.

This is so weird.

The two lions watch with their heads tilted to the side. Confused, they see Dolph smile at the tiny fawn he was cradling, who was still chewing the meat he’d stolen.

“The fuck” Jinma mutters.

---

Agata

“What??” Agata squawked, hands balled into a fist. How could they do this? To a lion, barely the age of 16.

“I.. I can’t! I’m not sure how to?” he countered, looking anywhere but the scene before him.

A child, clinging to the cuffs of Ibuki’s suit jacket. A fawn, 9 or 10 years old- by the looks of it.

“Agata, it will only be for an hour or two,” Dolph explained.

Like that’s going to change anything.

“But! Dolph-san, why? We don’t even know who this kid is? I mean.. Why can’t we just give him back to his parents?” He blurted.. The words left his mouth before he could process what he had just said. He prayed to whichever gods listening to him to please not make him babysit a child- and a herbivore child too!

Ibuki furrows his brows, before sharing a look with Dolph, who looks as equally as upset. A beat, and then,

“Louis stays with the Shishigumi,” Ibuki stated, like it’s the most obvious thing.

“You can’t be serious!” Agata whined, his arms flailing. It was a fight he couldn’t win. He frowned.

It didn’t take Agata more than a second to realize that his outburst had caused Louis to hide more behind Ibuki, his teeth bared, eyes burning with passionate hate.

Ah... He really did not like babysitting.

#beastars #shishigumi #beastars free #beastars ibuki #beastars dolph #beastars hino #beastars sabu #beastars miguel #beastars jinma #beastars dope #beastars agata #beatstars headcanon #shishigumi headcanons #my heart #i cant #i love them so much

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kyoomiii · 4 years

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♡ Weight Insecurity [hcs]

- ➣. . . ❝ Hiiii can I request for Kuroo, Keiji and Hajime with a chubby girlfriend who distanced herself cause she got insecure because a girl is getting too flirty with her man? 👉👈 thank you so muchhh (*˘︶˘*).。.:*♡ ❞

― requested by: @ chichi-chanischibi ―

- ✎ characters ❝ kuroo, akaashi, and iwaizumi ❞

- [ trigger warning(s): heavy mentions of insecurity and slight language ]

- ⚘ genre ❝ fluff, angst ❞

❝ i just wanna say... LOVE AND APPRECIATE ALL BODIES BECAUSE YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL! thank you for coming to my ted talk (○゜ε＾○) ❞

-kyo ♡

When it came to appearances she was perfect, tall, thin, and standard wise she was beautiful… Something you did not see in yourself- and watching the way she touched Kuroo, you felt as if maybe, just maybe that was who he was meant to be with.

Someone as equally as stunning as he is. Because that’s what they are, absolutely stunning standing next to one another, like two models fresh out of a magazine.

The sight alone makes your stomach churn, the familiar buzzing of anxiety vibrating throughout your body… He deserves better.

And the thought lingers in your mind the longer you stare at them, that tingle of anxiety soon joined by the clench of your heart. You watch him expectantly, perhaps he would pull away. Tell her he’s taken. But he doesn’t. He smiles the way he always does, seemingly oblivious to the way she eyes him, devouring every inch of his being.

With a shaky breath, you manage to tear your gaze away, continuing your steps down the hall. He deserves better, he deserves her, because she is beautiful and so is he, you are not- at least that’s what you tell yourself.

Throughout the day the scene replays in your mind. Her and Him- You don’t belong there. Especially now, as you stare into the bathroom mirror, you find yourself dissatisfied with your appearance. How could he possibly love you when you are nowhere near the standard that he is.

Tears begin to pool the longer you observe yourself. The plumpness of your body, and the roundness of your face, it leaves you feeling upset, angry, unpretty.

Gently, you wipe away the droplets that have trailed down your cheeks. You won’t let him see you like this, and maybe it’s best you don’t see him at all, because he’s sure to get dissatisfied with you one day, and when he does- when he leaves. It’ll hurt less if you no longer hold any ties.

With that set in mind, you move through the day tiptoeing around corners, looking over your shoulder for that familiar bedhead. Each time you hear his voice throughout the halls you freeze, holding your breath as you hide in the nearest place you can, hoping that he won’t see you.

But in the end, you know, your game of one-sided hide and seek will come to an end eventually because he’ll be waiting for you just outside that classroom door as soon as the bell rings. And when you see him, he’s going to ask. Ask why you’ve been avoiding him.

The ringing fills your ears much earlier than you expected, but your heart thunders louder. Packing up your belongings you make sure to keep your head hung low. Eyes diverted towards the floor as you try your best to get out of the small room as quickly as possible. However, the gentle grip around your wrist makes you freeze.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“What are you talking about Tetsurou?”

Looking up at him, fake smile plastered on your face, you can see it in his eyes. He knows you’re lying.

“Please tell me what’s wrong y/n… Did I do something?”

The tears return once more, wetting your lashes as you look at him,

“I just…- She’s so much more attractive than me… Tall- skinny”

And suddenly it strikes him, he feels guilty and utterly stupid as he gazes at you.

“Kitten… You’re just as attractive, if not more so. I love everything about you.”

“-But Tetsu, you deserve so much better…”

Your voice hitches and the tears finally spill. The sight breaks him, and he gently pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Listen to me. You could look any way you wanted to, but I will always think you are stunning. If you want to take healthy steps to lose weight then that’s fine- you’ll be beautiful, and if you don’t you are still beautiful.”

His grip tightens slightly as he uses his hand to wipe away the tears.

“I love you for you and in my eyes, you will always be gorgeous… I am so sorry that I haven’t made you feel that way.”

The sincerity in his voice eases you, and you slowly find yourself melting into his touch.

“Thank you, Tetsu… I love you too.”

“Of course baby, and I’ll do my best to make sure you feel good every day.”

In your mind, Akaashi came from the world of the wealthy and beautiful. The standards in his world though very similar to your own, seemed so much higher- so much more prominent.

And as a result, you were very much nervous when he approached you one day, asking if you would accompany him as his date to a party being hosted by a close family business partner. You accepted- albeit very reluctantly, but, the gentle smile that spread across his lips made it all seem worth it.

The thought is what you keep in your mind, especially as you walk through large double doors, arm looped around his own as the two of you enter the party just behind his parents.

It’s just as grand as you expected it to be, leaving you awestruck. Men and women, boys and girls, each one holding themselves high, but you suppose that would be easy if you looked as though you were a model who was meant to be on the runway.

Your grip on Akaashi’s arm tightens, the sudden wave of anxiety that flows through your body as you glance around doesn’t go unnoticed by Akaashi, who gives you a glance of reassurance, setting you at ease for the time being.

And as time passes, you find that it’s not so bad. The two of you stick to the corners of the room, Akaashi being someone who even though wasn’t opposed to socializing, wouldn’t necessarily go out of his way to interact with everyone, especially if you weren’t exactly comfortable in the first place.

That is until a girl, petite and in your opinion, downright beautiful approached the two of you. Her aura is bright and welcoming, and the way Akaashi greets her so fondly has you anxiously gripping his arm once more.

As you talk, you come to know that she’s Akaashi’s childhood friend who had moved away quite some time ago. But at the same time, you also come to realize that she is what is to be considered the standardized perfect. She is cute, petite, and downright sweet. And that terrifies you even more as you come to think that they look good together, she fits in his world, and you do not.

Excusing yourself from the conversation as it slowly becomes more painful, you make your way to the drink table, before exiting to an open balcony for fresh air. You can still see them from where you are, but at least you no longer have to carry the burden of continuing the conversation.

Diverting your eyes to your drink, you manage to catch your appearance in the reflection of the glass. Examining your features from head to toe and letting your mind wander,

And the longer you stare, the more distaste you find in your appearance. From the rolls of skin to the gentle plumpness of your body, and the roundness of your face. You wonder how Akaashi could ever find you attractive because you think you are anything but.

You don’t even realize the tears that come to pool in your eyes, wetting your lashes and spilling to your cheeks. And you definitely don’t notice the presence of the boy behind you who gently lays his hands on your plush hips, pulling you close to his body.

“She’s pretty…”

He’s shocked, to say the least, he had noticed you were uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t have guessed it was because of her.

“But so are you…”

Turning to face him, his frown only deepens at the sight of your tear stained cheeks.

“I don’t belong here Keiji… Look at me, I’m not even half as pretty or petite as any of those girls in there I-”

Cutting you off with a soft kiss to your lips, he presses his forehead against yours.

“y/n… I am looking at you, and all I see is someone so beautiful inside and out that it makes my heartache with how much love I feel. I love you alone and no one could ever convince me otherwise. You are beautiful, I only have eyes for you y/n.”

“Thank you Keiji, I love you too.”

“Of course y/n- you deserve to feel just as beautiful as you are.”

It doesn’t take a genius to acknowledge that Iwaizumi has the body of a god. He’s simply beautiful. And while he may not have fans flocking to him like Oikawa, that doesn’t mean he isn’t accustomed to the more than occasional admirer.

Even now, after it’s been made official, a couple of months into dating that you and Iwaizumi are publicly in a relationship, every once in a while, someone will try their hand at stealing away his heart.

None have been successful so far, but the looming anxiety that settles itself in your chest has you worrying. That one day, when you least expect it, he’ll leave. Because Iwaizumi Hajime can have anyone he wanted… So why would he want you? And that thought runs through your mind constantly, with every pretty admirer, tall, or short, thin, and downright pretty.

The worry embeds itself within your mind, and you find yourself actively trying to avoid Iwaizumi while not raising suspicions.

Today at lunch, you’ll sit a little further away from him, and as you walk from one class to another, you’ll choose a different way to avoid seeing Iwaizumi until you get to a class the two of you share. Even at practice, you settle yourself on the second-row balcony, enough to say that you’re there, while still being out of his way. You’ve convinced yourself that this is for the best because it’s easier to let go when there’s nothing to hold onto.

Your mind is snapped from your thoughts as the gym door opens. A girl, small and pretty stands at the door. Even from where you sit, you can see the gentle flush of pink that decorates her cheeks, and you figure that perhaps she’s here for Oikawa… That is until Iwaizumi follows her out, and suddenly you find yourself holding your breath.

Waiting patiently, the ever growing anxiety only seems to worsen, seconds turn to a minute, and a minute turns to a couple, and you can’t stay in this gym anymore. It’s like the walls are beginning to cave in.

Quietly, you gather your belongings, tiptoeing your way out through the nearest exit in hopes of going unnoticed.

Upon leaving the gym you finally let the pooling tears spill, decorating your cheeks and spilling to the dirt in little droplets.

“y/n!”

The sudden call of your name is enough to make you halt until a pair of arms engulf your plump body jerking you forward.

“Hajime…?”

“Shittykawa said you looked upset- are you crying?”

Startled that you had been caught, you quickly wipe them away, shaking your head.

“Don’t lie… Baby tell me what’s wrong.”

Taking in a breath, you let it spill, the words leaving you in a flood.

“You just deserve so much more than me Hajime… That girl, she’s so pretty and skinny… And I just thought that maybe you’d leave me for someone more beauti-”

“Leave you?”

His hold tightens.

“Dammit y/n, don’t say that! You are the most beautiful person I have ever met. So what if she’s skinny. I don’t care about that because in my eyes you are stunning both inside and out.”

He cups your chubby cheeks between his hands pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss.

“You are the only one I will ever need in my life... Because- I fucking love you! And I will be damned if you don’t see that.”

Your eyes widen in shock… He’s never said that before.

“Hajime… I love you too. Thank you.”

336 notes · View notes

carelessannie · 3 years

Text

here’s the second part of my winteriron mermay au! enjoy!

while we’re devoting full time to floating chapter two: boy you better do it soon

Rating: M (for now) Word Count: 6.8K Relationships: Tony x Bucky Warnings: Smut adjacent (unintentional sex toys), sexual tension, profanity, kinda drug/alcohol use Read on AO3 Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

- - -

His eyes blink open slowly. It’s strange to wake up without a blinding headache. Actually, it’s strange to wake up without any pain. And with the sun shining in his face.

To his left, he sees a small form on the water’s surface. In his mind’s eye he knows the form is familiar, knows that there should be someone inside— but it slips quickly, evading his memory as the dark form fades over the horizon.

Tony shakes his head. He smacks his lips.

Where is he?

First of all, he’s definitely not in the ocean. It seems like he’s resting on some type of rock formation, with just his tail hydrated in the water. Interesting. He seems to be inside a cove, the shelter working wonders to hide him from the mid-afternoon sun.

Secondly, he’s alone. He never travels alone, especially not to the shore. It hurts to try and remember, but reality slams into him like an orca whale. Rhodey and Pepper. The exploration to colonize. The fucking Tiger Sharks, dammit! Tony’s tail slaps the surface of the water in frustration, and he lets his body slip into the shallow pool.

He hopes the sharks didn’t get his friends. The memory of the fight is hazy at best, but he knows he shouldn’t be feeling this good afterwards— he’s pretty sure he got hit at least once. There are no scratches or bruises anywhere on his body, and it’s confusing that he doesn’t even have a headache.

That’s a problem for later, though. Now, Tony needs to find his friends— or, what remains of his friends. He swims out of the cove and down, through the reefs. Fish seem to be tentatively peeking out of their hiding spots, and he follows the empty spaces to trace the path a shark might have taken. He whistles, sharp and quick, to try and map out the figures in the surrounding area, and is satisfied when his call is returned with a low chirp. Thank the sea.

“Rhodey!” he hollers, pushing through the crowded reef, searching wildly for his closest friend, his faithful number two. As Tony breaks into the clearing, he freezes at the sight in front of him.

Rhodey and Pepper are swimming territorial circles around all three Tiger Sharks— and, from the looks of it, all three are dead.

“Tony!” Pepper notices him first and beckons him closer. When he swims up, she throws her arms around his neck, sobbing briefly into his shoulder, before reeling back and lightly slapping his arm, “How dare you worry me like that! I was sure all we’d find were scales— how did you get away?”

“I…” Tony tries to remember, he really does, but the only things coming to mind are brilliant blue eyes, an ethereal glow, and a deep, alluring voice, “I think someone saved me. But, by the time I woke up, they were gone.”

“You didn’t recognize them?” Rhodey swims closer, looking him up and down, inspecting for injuries.

“No, I don’t… I don’t think they’re part of the Kingdom,” Tony murmurs, reaching up to subconsciously play with his signet ring. His memory is usually so sharp, it’s strange that—

“Holy shit, Tony— look!” Pepper interrupts, pointing at his chest. He looks down, but all he can see is a slight illumination around his sternum.

“What—”

“Stay still,” Rhodey snaps, gently lifting the ring off of his skin. Pepper reaches in to trace a delicate circle on his chest, and both of his friends look awestruck. And afraid. He tries to crane his neck and see, but all he notices is that the glow fades the longer the ring is kept from touching his body. Rhodey hums, thoughtfully, “Seems like the ring is enchanted. I haven’t encountered a witch in ages— but I guess one came out of hiding to save you.”

“I guess. Pep, do you have a mirror?” The longer Rhodey holds the ring, the tighter Tony’s chest feels. He plucks it out of Rhodey’s hand as Pepper pulls a mirror out of her satchel, turning it around so Tony can take a look.

His signet ring lays in the center of his chest, a steady weight, and radiates a faint glow. It’s more concerning that, surrounding the ring, there’s a few inches of light emanating from under his skin. Tony reaches up to trace it— the gold ring and blue haze, so similar to the eyes he remembers saving him. Still, nothing hurts, and Tony pushes the mirror away.

He ignores their concerned looks and starts to tie up the sharks, concentrating on getting them back to the Kingdom before any larger predators arrive to investigate. After a moment, both of them swim down to help him, shouldering the bodies and heading back towards the Kingdom’s butcher.

It’s a few more minutes before Tony breaks the silence, giving his friends a break, “So, uh… do you think I’ll be a lanternfish forever?” He throws them a smirk and laughs at Pepper’s exasperated sigh.

Rhodey bumps into his shoulder, “You have trouble blending in as it is— at least now we’ll be able to keep track of you… in night clubs.”

Tony gwuafs, offended, and shoves at Rhodey’s shoulder. With everyone happy and laughing, it’s easy to forget about his mysterious savior and the inevitable conversation he’s going to have with his father later on. They head straight for the butcher when they enter the city, several citizens cheering and praising their kill. Tony knows he’ll get the credit for it, even though it was Rhodey and Pepper who slew the sharks, so he takes off as soon as they drop the bodies, heading to the castle to see the King.

---

Hours later, Tony sits at the far perimeter between two sentinels, staring out into the open ocean. The nocturnal fish have emerged, sending an eerie glow onto the city as the lights dim, throwing the Kingdom into gentle darkness. It does nothing to soothe Tony’s anger.

He takes Pepper’s satchel, full of rocks and shells and other samples from their journey, and dumps it over the side of the wall. Useless. It’s almost as if his dad doesn’t even want to explore anymore, just sending Tony out to keep him distracted. And he knows that’s probably the case, he’s not stupid, but he can tell there’s something deeper his dad isn’t telling him.

Well, fuck ‘im. Tony’s more than capable of figuring it out on his own.

For now, he stares out into the distance, throwing a silent Tony pity party.

There’s movement in the distance. At first, Tony thinks it’s debris. It’s not uncommon for items to fall from the surface— but this object suddenly twists, and he sees… shit, he sees arms. Fuck. It’s a person.

“Stay alert,” he instructs the guard on his right, “I’m gonna check it out.”

Tony takes off into the dark, distantly aware that one of the guards is hot on his tail, and heads straight for the figure still drifting towards the ocean floor. He slows down as he approaches, thankful for the light in his chest that illuminates his surroundings. When he gets to the spot, sand is settling in a cloud around where the figure landed. It takes a moment for everything to clear, and Tony waits patiently, the guard at his side prepared with a weapon.

It’s a man. “Holy shit,” Tony breathes out, swimming closer to the limp body stretched across the sand and rock.

“Be careful, your Highness,” his guard warns, and Tony waves his hand in dismissal.

The man landed facing away from him, giving Tony a good view of strong, muscular shoulders and wavy, shoulder-length hair, half tied back behind his ears in a small knot. His back rises and falls, expanding with slow breaths that reassure the man’s gentle sleep. He leans over and pulls on his shoulder, carefully turning him onto his back.

He’s absolutely gorgeous. Lips slightly parted and turned down in sleep, his face is utterly serene. His lashes are dark and cast a delicate shadow over sharp cheekbones, sprinkled with a tasteful amount of scruff, not quite enough to hide his full jawline and smooth, tanned skin. Tony can’t help himself— he reaches down and cups the man’s jaw, brushing his thumb over full lips and wishing he could look into this man’s eyes.

With a gasp, the man jerks awake, and Tony gets his wish. Deep, electric gray eyes bore into his own, the handsome face overtaken with shock and confusion as he bolts upright, pushing Tony away and looking around frantically.

“Hey, hey— it’s alright. You’re okay, please don’t panic,” Tony tries to calm him down, sighing in relief when the man turns his focus back on Tony, still looking desperate and confused, “My name’s Tony, you’re outside Howard’s Northern Kingdom— can you… can you tell me your name? Where you came from?”

The man shakes his head. He’s shaking slightly, and Tony watches as he runs his hands over his chest, his hips, and his silver and crimson tail— as if grounding himself in the present. Tony understands and gives the guy some space.

He hates the devastated look in the man’s stunning eyes, but is grateful when he croaks out, “The… the Northern Kingdom? Under water?”

Tony snickers, motioning around, “For now, yeah— that’s where sea life generally lives.”

The man nods, a little too quickly, “Right, I… of course, right. My name…” he grimaces, as though it’s painful to remember, “I’m James, but… but people call me Bucky.”

“Bucky,” Tony repeats, liking the sound of this stranger’s voice, somehow familiar, “I’m Tony, and King Howard is my father. Unfortunately, before I can help you out, I’m gonna need to know why you’re here, or where you’re from,” he gestures to the guard behind him, “otherwise this guy’s not gonna let you come home with me.”

Bucky’s smile is a revelation as it breaks over his face. Tony feels something twist in his chest as he ducks his head, looking up at Bucky through his lashes and watching the other man’s cheeks flush pink in delight. Oh, Tony likes this a lot.

“Well, I’m… I’m from…” the smile falls from Bucky’s face as he concentrates, a painful grimace maring his features again, “The Kingdom of Brooklyn, and my brother is the King. His name is Steve. And I… I don’t know why I’m here,” his brow furrows and a small whimper leaves his throat as he concentrates harder, and Tony has to stop it.

“Hey, Bucky? Please don’t— don't’ hurt yourself, okay?” He grins in approval as Bucky relaxes, “We can work on it, sweetheart, for now, what you’ve given me should be sufficient. I’ve never heard of Brooklyn, but if you’re a Prince and not one of our enemies, our King shouldn’t have a problem with offering you temporary residence.”

“I… okay,” Bucky agrees, looking down at his hands, “I don’t want to impose.”

Tony holds out a hand and pulls Bucky along with him. They swim back through the gate and into the city— most families are already tucked into their homes for the night, so no one sees them on their way back to the castle. Bucky looks absolutely stunned, barely talking during their journey, and it amuses Tony to no end. Obviously whatever Kingdom he’s from is small and underdeveloped in technology and population.

They travel shoulder to shoulder, and Tony can’t help but feel a familiar warmth when their arms brush against each other, the ring around his neck pulsing brighter. It seems like Bucky notices it too, but the expression on his face is difficult to read.

“So this is a weird question,” Tony starts, fiddling with the ring as he studies Bucky’s face. The other man smiles encouragingly, so Tony continues, “have we… met before? Like, specifically earlier today?”

Bucky stops suddenly, looking at Tony as if he’s actively growing another tail. For a moment his face looks surprised, filled with recognition, but it quickly disappears as Bucky hunches over and lets out a pained gasp, clutching desperately at his head. Tony has no idea what to do— and in panic, he pulls Bucky closer, wrapping the larger man in his arms.

“Shh, I’m so sorry,” Tony whispers, trying to soothe away the pain. Bucky is trembling like a leaf in his arms, and he’s helpless to do anything about it. He’s also aware that they’re drifting in between several dwellings, and Tony needs to get them inside, soon.

Soft, red-rimmed eyes blink up at him, and Tony brings up his hand to push a few wayward strands of hair out of Bucky’s face. Even upset and in pain, this man is flawless. He sniffles and blinks a few times, struggling to turn a reassuring smile up at Tony.

“T-thank you,” he murmurs, face flushing pink again in embarrassment, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Everything is… familiar. But I can’t remember you, I’m sorry.”

Tony clicks his tongue, following the blush with his fingers and enjoying the close press of their bodies, “It’s okay, Bucky— we’ll figure it out.”

---

They make it back to the castle in one piece, and Tony knows it’s going to be best to present his guest to the King immediately. He knows his presence isn’t welcome due to the argument earlier in the evening, but the consequences will be worse if Tony tries to hide what he’s found.

The two of them wait outside of the King’s rooms as a steward leaves to announce them to his father. Tony tries to fill Bucky in on procedures, but it seems his guest is already familiar with a number of expectations and etiquette.

“Oh, and remember to tuck your tail as well. And if he tells you to be informal, he really means you can call him ‘Your Grace,’ not to call him Howard. He’ll hate that.” Tony rambles, listing off everything he can think of.

“Wait,” Bucky stops him, “tuck my… tail? Why?”

Tony chuckles, backing up slightly to face Bucky. He looks around to make sure no others are watching— it would be improper for the Prince to bow, even in jest— and when he’s satisfied that the coast is clear, tucks himself into a formal bow.

“Oh,” Bucky breathes, and Tony unfolds himself, his smile erased completely by the intensity in Bucky’s eyes. Fuck. “That’s… that was…”

And then smoothly, gracefully, Bucky mirrors his bow, curling his tail forward, dipping his head, and crossing one arm over his chest respectfully. Tony is speechless. The show of respect— even casually— from this breathtaking man, has him breathing deep to keep his desire at bay.

It seems as though Bucky’s having a similar problem. As he unfolds from his bow, Tony can see his pupils blown wide, the scales around his groin flushed pink in arousal. Tony can bet his own scales look the same, and tries to laugh, tries to calm them down as he backs away slightly. It won’t help either of them to see the King looking like this.

Of course that’s the moment the King’s steward chooses to return, giving both of them a disapproving once over before opening the door wide, “His Majesty will see you in his library.”

Okay, not the worst then. If Tony was in deep shit, Howard would just see them in the drawing room. At least Tony likes the library.

He leads Bucky down the hall and into the library, hiding a smile at the awe clearly written on Bucky’s face. He takes a second look, trying to view his father’s library with fresh eyes, but has trouble when his gaze keeps landing on the handsome man swimming next to him.

Howard is reclining near a window, absently eating a few fermented algae— his usual method of winding down from a difficult day. As the King looks their way, a piece of algae still in his fingers, Bucky dips into a formal bow. Triton, he looks good like that. Tony dips his head, informally, and both of them straighten up a moment later.

“What is it, Anthony?” his dad sighs, putting the piece of algae on his tongue to dissolve. Tony suddenly feels parched, but holds his arm out to present Bucky regardless.

“An hour ago, as I was watching the border of our Kingdom, a figure fell from the surface. I went to investigate with a guard, and we found James, here, unconscious and unarmed. James claims to be a prince from a Kingdom called Brooklyn, with a King named Steve, and is seeking asylum until he can resume his travels. His mind is damaged, and I wish to extend my care and hospitality towards him for the duration of his stay.”

The King looks at both of them, his face refusing to give anything away, but Tony knows from experience that he’s much more perceptive than Tony gives him credit for. He crosses his arms and addresses Bucky, “Prince James, then,” he says, testing out the title, “if not hostile, what are your intentions towards my Kingdom and my son?”

Bucky ducks his head and nods, “My intentions are to know your Kingdom and know your son, if he so desires, Your Majesty. I am healing and recovering my memories, and once I’ve reclaimed my original destination, I shall depart immediately.”

Howard nods, satisfied with this answer. He points to the small pail on his side table, “Anthony, would you bring your… friend a refreshment?”

Tony spares Bucky a shrug and swims over to the chilled container, lifting it slightly to scoop out a small bundle of algae into a glass, trapping them quickly with a lid. He grabs a few for himself and makes his way over to where Bucky floats, his eyes wide and curious as Tony hands over the refreshment.

Bucky looks down at the cup in his hands, obviously and adorably lost. Tony glances over at Howard— his dad looking between them in amusement— and touches Bucky’s shoulder, catching his gaze and motioning for him to follow Tony’s example.

Reaching into his glass, Tony fishes out a piece of algae, showing Bucky how it sticks slightly to his finger. Bucky copies him, and grabs a smaller piece in between his forefinger and thumb. Tony wishes he could feed the bit to Bucky himself, place it on his tongue and feel his pretty pink lips suck it from his hand.

Instead, he quickly places it on his own tongue, humming happily as the sweet and sour algae dissolves, sending a warm shiver down into his belly, clearing his head and heating him up from the inside out. Damn, his dad always has the best shit.

He turns his attention back to Bucky, watching intently as he follows suit and places the morsel in his mouth. His eyebrows shoot up, he looks down at the cup in shock— as if the remaining algae could provide some explanation— and then, to Tony’s dismay, Bucky lets out a guttural groan, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as his cheeks hollow out, lips curling tight around his fingers while he sucks them clean.

Tony is having something close to a stroke, and his dad is laughing loudly in front of them, obviously finding Tony’s distress amusing. He’s going to commit regicide, and it’s going to be slow and painful and bloody.

He overcompensates by taking the lid off his glass and throwing the rest of the algae back, breathing deep as the sensation hits him all at once. As he sways a bit in place, he catches Bucky staring at him in amusement.

“Anthony,” his father sighs, shaking his head in annoyance, “do whatever you must. He can stay… in your rooms, primarily. Or in the guest lodging— as long as you have security on him at all times. Get Jarvis to set up residence wherever you’d like, Anthony. Just don’t let me hear it, and don’t let me see it.”

Bucky is frozen with another algae halfway to his mouth, flushed red and eyes wide. Tony is convinced that flustered is his natural state. Before his dad can embarrass them further, Tony takes Bucky’s hand and excuses them, swimming quickly back down the hallway.

He doesn’t stop until they reach his rooms and slam the door. They’re already cackling before they hit the nest, and Tony can’t catch his breath. He rolls over and tucks close into Bucky’s side, enjoying how his chest shakes as they laugh together.

“What the fuck did I just eat, Tony,” Bucky wheezes, and Tony loses it again, ducking his face into Bucky’s neck and sobbing into his skin.

“Fer… fermented algae, baby.”

“I— I can’t believe… it tasted like…” and Bucky’s voice cuts off, his body stilling. Tony looks up to see what happened, and Bucky is staring straight forward, unmoving. Frozen.

“Bucky? What did… what did it taste like?”

“It. I can’t…” And again, Bucky’s face contorts, breath stuttering as his hands come up to cradle his face, sighing in pain. Tony immediately pulls his hands away and replaces them with his own, massaging his temples until he’s met with deep, gray pools of sweet relief.

“Don’t push it, honey,” Tony purrs, resting his body gently on top of Bucky’s, rubbing their noses together and blowing a few bubbles, making Bucky giggle and relax. He lays his head down on Bucky’s chest, before realizing how close they are together— and how little they’ve actually gotten to know each other.

“Dammit,” he curses, pushing off of Bucky’s chest and floating away, “we don’t— shit. I don’t even know you. You have no idea who you even are. I am so sorry, I just fed you an unknown substance, oh seas,”

“Tony, it’s okay—”

“I’ll get you your own room, I promise. You don’t have to put up with—”

“Tony! Hey,” Bucky swims off the nest and presses him up against the ceiling, pinning his shoulders and staring into his eyes, “I remember who I am, I just can’t recall where my home is. I know the name of my brother, and my best friends. I have a…” small grimace, “pet named Alpine. I’m a scientist and a Prince, and I’m almost completely convinced that I’m—”

He pauses, a familiar blush traveling down his chest and filling his cheeks. Tony blinks down at him, “That you’re what?”

“That I’m already, irreversibly infatuated with you.”

Tony feels the ring around his neck pulse, bright and hot on his skin, as if agreeing with the sentiment. He wants to respond, really does, but everything is too new, too important. Bucky is too important.

They’re close, though. Tails brushing together, bubbles of air mixing and joining in front of their faces. Tony can hear his own heartbeat, frantic and longing for the man in front of him. Bucky reaches up, acting as if he wants to touch the ring, but he hesitates. His fingers flex, his eyes blink rapidly, and then he’s reaching into Tony’s hair, pulling on strands tenderly and cradling his face in strong, sure hands.

And Tony just melts in his palms, an absolute jellyfish for this mysterious stranger. The tension between them is heavy, thick and magnetic. He drifts into Bucky’s space and tries to watch for a sign, any sign, but his eyes are closed— when did his eyes close? And then their scales rub together, catching and pulling, tearing a desperate moan from Tony’s lips. There’s a hand in his hair and eyelashes on his cheek, and their lips— their breath—

“I can’t,” Tony whispers, forcing his eyes open to watch Bucky frown in confusion. “I’m sorry, I’m crazy about you, but you deserve…” and he can’t remember, right now, everything that Bucky deserves, but he knows it’s a lot.

“Oh, I… Okay. I get it,” Bucky nods, devastating resignation taking over his handsome features, “I’m not… I can’t…”

“Can we just sleep? Talk and spend the day together in the morning?” Tony suggests, like an adult. Bucky nods, suddenly yawning and glancing up at Tony sheepishly.

“Sounds perfect, Anthony,” he smirks, chuckling again as Tony swats at him playfully.

It only takes a few minutes to set up a guest room for Bucky, fit already with a flawlessly woven nesting kit and other amenities. Tony even makes sure to include a pail of chilled algae, ugly laughing when Bucky discovers it by the dressing mirror.

The next day comes soon enough, and Tony has enough sense to cancel his engagements, asking his steward to clear his schedule and plan a tour of the kingdom for the two of them.

Before Bucky wakes— Tony assumes he’s still asleep in the guest suite— he has the royal gardeners collect fragments of coral and deep sea sponges to present to his new… friend. He asks for crimson and gold, colors not only of Tony’s scales, but also of Bucky’s as well.

When the arrangements arrive, he spends a few minutes weaving them together with a few ties from his nest and small strands of his hair, intimate details that he’s sure Bucky will love.

He waits in his living space for Bucky to join him. The windows are thrown open, letting a gentle morning current sweep through, and Tony sits with the coral and sponges draped over his arms. And he waits.

After a few minutes, he’s done waiting. He calls his steward to check on Bucky, and watches as the boy disappears down the hallway. There’s a knock, the faint sound of the door being opened, and then low, urgent voices. The steward swims back to him, looking guilty.

“He sends his apologies. He says that he’s not used to rising without direct light, and missed the wake up call completely. He should be around in a few moments, sir.”

“Oh, yes— that’s fine,” Tony places the arrangement in front of him and dismisses the steward, choosing to pick on the assorted breakfast foods instead.

It’s only a few moments before Bucky joins him, looking absolutely delicious and well rested. He sits next to Tony— very close, actually— and takes a suspicious look at the meal prepared for them.

“It’s… fish? For breakfast?”

Tony’s surprised again by his confusion, “Yes, honey, we generally eat fish for breakfast. If you’d like, I can have the cook crack you open a few clams instead? Oh, he makes the best sweet clam mix— it’s to die for,”

“No, no that’s fine,” Bucky waves his hands, reaching for an assortment of fresh eel instead, “these should be… these should be good.”

Tony watches in glee as Bucky slurps down the eel, grimacing and gagging slightly when it hits his tongue. He hides a smile when Bucky sits up straighter, obviously testing the flavor on his palette, before turning to Tony and putting his hands on his hips.

“Okay, but… why was that so good?”

Tony splutters, “You ass! You had me fooled— thinking you didn’t like fish for breakfast, like a fucking lunatic.”

Bucky chuckles, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. For a moment, he looks so lost and confused that all Tony can do is urge him to eat more fish, shoving three or four more plates in his face.

After they finish eating, Tony picks up his arrangement, feeling like a guppy as he hands it to Bucky, waiting for his reaction. Bucky— seas bless him— gives him a lopsided smile, holding the coral and sponges like they’re about to bite him. It’s confusing.

“Thank you, Tony. I’m not… I’m not supposed to eat it, right?”

“What?” Tony chokes, throwing his head back in laughter, “no, honey. It’s a gift. To admire. From my gardens.”

Bucky’s eyebrows draw close as he concentrates, something from his memory probably slipping away again, so Tony takes the arrangement from him. He sets it on the table, perfect decoration for the room, and grabs Bucky’s hand, leading him out of their rooms.

“Let’s go,” Tony urges, giving Bucky a reassuring wink as they head into the city.

Their day is incredible. Tony had no doubts before that the two of them would get along, would laugh and talk and joke as naturally as breathing. He’s proud of his Kingdom, too. Welcoming Bucky and treating him like a Prince— draping chains of flowering wildlife around his neck and offering them both assortments of salted meats— shark and squid and flounder— and dozens of fine jewels and beads.

If Tony purchases a number of those jewels for Bucky, it’s no one’s business but his.

He’s enraptured by the way Bucky experiences things. He’s always gasping and blushing as if each moment is special, new and unique, instead of normal and mundane. Tony feels drunk on it. He wants to spoil Bucky rotten, hoard all of his reactions to himself and make sure Bucky is always smiling like this— happy and soft and warm.

So Tony might be a little infatuated as well. He’s not supposed to fall in love this quickly, especially not with a stranger, but he feels inexplicably drawn to Bucky, as if by fate.

The days after pass similarly. Even when Tony has to resume his responsibilities, they still spend most of the day together— Bucky helping him delegate and problem solve issues in the Kingdom.

There are some bad days for Bucky— when he tries to remember too much and ends up with headaches that won’t go away. It’s especially bad when Tony leaves with Pepper and Rhodey to explore near the surface. Bucky refuses to go with them and spends those days in his room, clutching his head and sleeping restlessly. Tony thinks he may have repressed trauma that’s related to the surface, to the day Tony found him, but without access to his memories, it’s hard to know for sure.

Even with a few bad days in the mix, most of the time they spend together is indescribable, and, after only two weeks, Tony already has the crown jeweler fashioning traditional courting gifts for Bucky.

He whistles on the way to pick them up, swimming faster than usual, and even doing a few twirls when the excitement is just too much. As he inspects each piece, he knows the smile on his face is ridiculously wide. They’re perfect. He can’t help but imagine Bucky wearing each item, draped and adorned with metal and jewels and his family crest.

Bucky’s lounging in the garden when Tony finally finds him, admiring the array of coral on the south side of the palace. His hair is tied back— half up half down, framing his face beautifully— and he looks up when Tony swims into view.

“Hey, honey,” Tony greets, silently hating himself for being so soft around this man, “do you have a minute?”

“For you, I have all the time in the world.”

Tony ducks his head, the warm twist in his chest pulling him towards Bucky, and he watches the other man swim over from under his eyelashes. Once Bucky is in front of him, Tony hands him the box, looking at his face patiently for a reaction.

He turns it over, and looks at Tony, confused. “What’s this?”

“Oh, sorry,” Tony touches the lid, trailing his fingers over the crest engraved there, “it’s um… they’re traditional jewels I had crafted… for you.”

Bucky still looks unsure, “Okay,” he says, toying with the clasp on the box, “is there a special occasion, Tony?”

Tony just shakes his head, giving Bucky a reassuring smile, “Just open it— you’ll see.”

He gets a small smile in return, and Bucky lifts the lid, revealing the intricate set of jewels— chains and cuffs and clamps, all symbolizing Tony’s intent to court Bucky.

Unfortunately, Bucky looks absolutely horrified. He extends his arms, pushing the box away, and looks up into Tony’s eyes, “I… what the fuck, Tony?”

“... what?”

Bucky puts the gifts back into Tony’s hands and crosses his arms, “I’m sorry if you misunderstood our relationship, but I’m not… interested in this. I don’t want this. At least not yet.”

“Oh,” Tony is shocked still, gripping the box tightly in his arms, “I just… I thought we were…”

But Bucky is shaking his head, “I like you, Tony. I’m probably even falling in love with you. But I’m just not into that. I have a few friends who are, but we’d have to be… I don’t know, married or something, before I’d want to talk about that.”

Tony looks down into the box, suddenly confused, “Bucky, what do you think I’m trying to do?”

“Those are… aren’t those—” Bucky flushes, all the way down his chest and bites into his lip, “— like… for sex?”

What?

“No?” he is so confused, and a little offended. Why would anyone use these things for sex? Sure, they can be sexy, but—

“Tony, in what other context would I wear these?” Bucky pulls out a strand of jewels connected together with a chain, two fasteners at the ends to hold them in place.

“You’d wear them when we go out.”

“Tony! These are nipple clamps!” Bucky shakes them a little bit, trying to emphasize his point. Tony, for his part, doesn’t see the issue.

“Yes? But they’re traditional, not sexy.”

And then it looks like something dawns on Bucky— his face lights up and he chuckles, dropping the jewels back in the box and reaching forward to touch Tony’s face, tenderly scratching behind his ears.

“Tony— I need you to tell me, as if I’m a child and have no idea what’s going on, exactly what these gifts mean.”

And then Tony gets it. Wherever Bucky’s from, he’s never seen courting gifts like these. Damn, he’s such an idiot.

“They’re family jewels, forged with precious stone and metal, to create the traditional set of courting gifts presented by a royal family member to their potential spouse. Or consort, I guess. But yeah, it’s… I’m basically asking if I can court you, officially. And if you accept them and wear them in public, it’s a symbol of our relationship and eventual engagement.”

“Fuck,” Bucky curses, still playing with Tony’s hair, “yeah, yes— I’ll wear them for you. I’d love nothing more than to be yours, Tony. I just… do I need to give you something in return? For you to wear?”

“Actually, half of those pieces are for me,” Tony replies, pressing his cheek into Bucky’s hand. “If you’d like, we can try them on?”

“Sure, darling, let’s go try them.”

---

Tony can definitely see now why Bucky would think these jewels were made for sex. They lay each item out on Tony’s dressing table, organizing them neatly, and Tony has Bucky float in front of him, keeping his arms outstretched in front of the mirror so he can adorn Bucky with each jewel.

“So, first is the necklace— set with gold and twenty-five rubies,” he explains, draping the necklace around Bucky’s neck and clasping it underneath his hairline. He can’t resist, and places a delicate kiss on top of the clasp.

“Next is the belt,” he says, bringing his arms around Bucky’s waist to set the belt just above his scale-line, “usually these are more feminine in design, but I’ve had a larger crest engraved to rest over… well— let’s just say it implies masculinity.”

Tony busies himself with fastening the belt around Bucky’s waist and ignores the laugh he gets. He straightens up and hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder—

“Shit, you look beautiful.”

Bucky gives him a shy smile and turns his head to look into Tony’s eyes. He could get lost in those eyes, drowning daily in pools of ocean blue and gray.

Tony clears his throat and pulls back, “Okay, next we have, uh—” Triton, “the chest piece.”

He doesn’t even bother explaining this one, focusing on attaching it and quickly moving on before he can embarrass himself. Tony brings the chain around, holding it in place in front of Bucky’s chest. Unfortunately, his nipples are soft and there’s no visible place for a hold. Tony huffs and uses his left hand to reach out, lining up steadily, before quickly pinching Bucky’s nipple.

“Shit!” Bucky curses, looking down in surprise, but Tony is fast— attaching the first clip before Bucky can react. He keeps up a string of curses, gingerly touching the left clamp, and Tony uses his distraction to attach the second clip to Bucky’s now straining and hard right nipple. He backs up a bit to give Bucky space, waiting for the other man to calm down until he stops cursing and curiously touches the chest piece.

Bucky looks divine. Each chain floats lightly, reflecting light and casting shadow onto his pink skin, darker than usual due to residual embarrassment. Regardless, seeing Bucky in his jewels and colors is doing something to him.

“Only a few more,” he murmurs, picking up the wrist cuffs and motioning for Bucky to extend his arms. Bucky still looks overwhelmed— a mix of anger and confusion and arousal, probably— but Tony slips the cuffs on, fastening them snugly, and hooks a few rings around Bucky’s fingers, attached with delicate chains.

“Tony—” Bucky breathes, twisting his wrists to admire the jewelry. Tony’s determined to finish this, so he ignores his impulse— to touch and touch and touch and touch.

The last items are a set of jewels for his ears and a head piece. “Can you move your hair, Bucky?”

When Bucky obliges, Tony goes to thread the jewels, only to notice that Bucky’s ears are perfectly smooth. He feels around just to be positive, and Bucky giggles a bit at the sensation.

“So, we have a bit of a problem,” Tony backs up, showing Bucky the ear jewelry.

“Oh.”

“— if you don’t want to wear them, I won’t ask—”

“No, I…” Bucky feels around his own ears, pinching and tugging the lobes, “is there a way to fashion them with clips, like…” he motions to his chest, refusing to meet Tony’s eyes.

“Yes! Here, it shouldn’t be a difficult change, either,” Tony swims to his main doors, handing the jewels to his steward with a quick word of instruction for the craftsman. He swims back to see Bucky admiring the headpiece.

Tony takes it from his hands, giving him a reassuring smile, and Bucky dips his head forward. With perfect access, Tony lays the headpiece over Bucky’s dark waves, securing it behind his ears with two pins, and adjusting the chains and jewels to lay perfectly across his forehead.

It’s too much. Tony lets out a shuddering breath, finally finished with the gifts, and leans his head against Bucky’s, closing his eyes and holding on to Bucky’s shoulders.

“You look gorgeous, Bucky. I can’t believe you’re wearing my colors… that you’d agree to this.”

He feels a light touch on the back of his neck, and holds on tighter. Bucky pulls away— causing Tony to open his eyes, following his movement— and he draws Tony closer, dotting a kiss to his temple. They stay like that for a few more moments, enjoy the closeness and warmth, before Bucky chuckles and drifts away fully, turning back to the box.

“Alright— now how do I put these on you?”

Bucky holds up two cuffs, identical to the ones he put on earlier, and tilts his head. Tony grins and extends his arms, guiding Bucky gently in how to slip on the cuffs, tighten them, and attach the rings. When they’re fastened, Tony is captivated by the sight of both pairs of jewels shimmering in the light, practically shouting their attachment to each other.

The final pieces for Tony to wear are a necklace— similar to Bucky’s, but with a space for the signet ring around his neck— and a matching sash and belt. Bucky helps him put them on, and soon they’re floating and facing the mirror, mouths agape.

“Absolutely perfect,” Bucky murmurs, eyes never leaving Tony’s in their reflection.

Tony inhales slightly, “I know, the jewels are stunning.”

“No, darling,” Bucky turns him and looks down into his eyes, “it’s us. We’re a perfect match.”

He can’t help but smile, his stomach twisting with affection as he loops his arms around Bucky’s neck, pulling them close enough that their bodies are touching, tail to shoulder. Bucky gasps, the motion pulling on the chain across his chest, and suddenly all Tony can think about is getting his mouth on this man, wringing every drop of pleasure from him, watching him come apart with Tony’s name on his lips like a prayer—

“Your Highness, my apologies, but the King would see you in his drawing room.”

Tony laughs— unbelievable, “Tell the King I’ll see him within the hour,” he answers, never taking his gaze off Bucky, his dark, deep eyes, shining like the sea—

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but the King insists on your immediate attention.”

“Shit,” Tony curses, letting Bucky go and turning to follow the steward from the room. He looks back, giving one last promise, “I’ll be back in a moment, I swear,” before disappearing out the door, heading down the hall to meet his father.

#winteriron #tony x bucky #bucky barnes #tony stark #mermay #starkbucks #tony/bucky #mermay 2021 #fluffy awkward cute boys #mermay au #mer!tony #mer!bucky #wip update #i haven’t edited this so i’m sorry if there are errors #i’ll do that later

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settersloveletters · 4 years

Note

Hello!!! Can u write a scenario where Karasuno finds out Tobio has a s/o and how he introduces them to the team 🙏🏼please

• introduction to the team; scenario

a/n: kags seems like the type of person that doesn’t know he has to “introduce” his s/o to his friends. never thought of it as a big deal and doesn’t know why everyone on the team is freaking out lol.

➳ request: kageyama introducing his s/o to the team

➳ pairing: kageyama x g/n!reader

➳ word count: 860

➳ admin: kae !

“Who’s that? I didn’t know Kageyama had friends,” Hinata curiously peers outside of the gymnasium doors, spying on Kageyama who is spending his lunch with a new sweetie the volleyball club hasn’t met yet. “They’re probably a paid actress, because there is no way he has friends,” Tsukishima chides as he takes a passing glance at whatever Hinata is looking at.

“I don’t know, the friendship seems pretty genui- oh, now they’re kissing.”

“Huh?” Tsukishima is forced to double take, “The King? Kissing another human?”

You and Kageyama have been in a relationship for a while, but he never took it upon himself to introduce you to his teammates. Does he hate me? No, there’s no way. Every lunch you two would walk around the school together, go to the vending machines, and just talk. He wasn’t hiding anything. Maybe he didn’t know he was supposed to introduce you, he isn’t the brightest after all. OK, time for you to take the initiative!

Sitting on the bench just outside the gymnasium, you hold hands with the dark haired boy who viciously absorbs the milk carton like it’s his life fuel. “Tobio, can I come to your volleyball pract-”

“THEY’RE HOLDING HANDS NOW.”

“YOU FUCKING IDIOT.”

You turn your head towards the gym entrance, where the two distant voices were coming from. All you catch is the doors slamming shut and the frantic pacing of shoes on the wooden floors inside, and even the sound of two voices yelling at each other. Kageyama tightens the grip on your hand to get your attention back on him.

“What were you saying before, love?” he looks at you with his crumpled milk box in one hand and yours in the other. Even though he looks angry all the time, when he’s with you he is soft. So cute.

“Oh, I want to go to your volleyball meet after school.”

Once Hinata found out, the word spread like wildfire. All the club members huddle and whisper about the newfound rumours of Kageyama and his alleged date. “Are you sure you saw right Hinata? Or are your eyes deceiving you again?” Tanaka laughs through the outlandish claims coming from the orange head. The poor boy just has to stand there and defend what he saw with his own two eyes.

“I swear, the person was this tall. I’m pretty sure they’re in class-” The gym doors slide open with a bang that echoes the room, all the boys shadily shoot their gaze at the setter who walks in. We’re very suspicious. It’s written all over them. Especially the orange one.

“HA ha. Kageyama, you’re late, that’s not like you at all. What were you doing?” Hinata shuffles over to Kageyama, giving him a couple nudges at the elbow.

“Nothing,” he sets down his bag near the entrance and slips on his volleyball shoes, still oblivious to the whispers and weird glares from all his teammates. It isn’t until the doors open again, slowly and meekly, that shifts the attention of everyone off the setter. Your shaking hands grasp the metal, not sure what exactly you’d see on the other side.

“Oh yeah, I invited them here today. Hope you guys don’t mind,” Kageyama, unphased, finally comments after the door fully opens for all the teammates to see you. You can’t do anything else other than give a small wave at all of them. They’re all tall, and very intimidating.

“Wh-who is this Kageyama?” Daichi stutters, in complete shock that what Hinata said might actually be true. Kageyama is actually dating someone. On top of that, you’re cute.

“(y/n). A friend of mine.” F-friend.

“Kageyama, I don’t think friends hug, and hold hands, and k-kiss..” Hinata comments while still awestruck at your presence. Your face blows up at his remark. Their first impression of you was not through a formal introduction, rather witnessing you and your boyfriend suck face on the school yard bench. Haha, you’re having such a great day. You set down your bag and walk alongside Kageyama as the team watches you, itching to start a conversation with you.

“So are you guys dating or?” Tanaka asks.

“Well, I guess. Hey, idiot wanna run those drills again? I think I perfected the set,” he replies to Tanaka and continues practice like it’s nothing.

“How can he be so nonchalant about all this? I’m freaking out right now,” Asahi exasperates, who is very obviously antsy about your presence. It doesn’t take long before all the boys set their stuff down to surround you, bombarding you with questions. Who, what, where, when, why, how?

“What do you even see in the King?” Tsukishima chastises as you dreamily watch Kageyama practice the drills with Hinata. It’s nice being able to see him genuinely happy and doing what he loves.

“He’s just.. Cute. I don’t know how to explain it,” you watch him set the ball for Hinata, who utterly misses the ball and gets caught in the net, Nishinoya and Tanaka on the sidelines laughing their heads off.

“HINATA YOU FUCKING IDIOT, YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN THAT.”

“I don’t think cute is the right word..”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #requests #admin kae

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years

Note

Can I request a first date with Vinca? With a bit of angst with mc’s ex-best friend crashing their date by making fun and embarrassing mc as well as revealing that mc has elemental powers she’s born with. But has a happy ending with Vinca taking mc on another date and being that protective big cat that she is. Also idc what other people say all you mods are the best other than being gorgeous af

Written by @an-awkward-ghost

“Look, I’m just saying this thing is broken.” Vinca huffs, sliding the controller back in place and effectively giving up, even if she won’t admit it. You grin at her as she spins on her heel and saunters off to another part of the arcade. You follow her with a chuckle.

“What a sore loser you are.”

She all but shoves a toy gun into your hands as a response, and you scramble with it as you examine the game she’s picked now. It’s a retro shooting game.

“Prepare for your incoming losing streak, pipsqueak.” She smirks that sharp smirk of hers, and you can’t help but stare at her profile. Her golden hair shimmers with the arcade’s lights, and your breath hitches at the gorgeous sight she makes.

It’s a bit unfair.

“Yeah, right.” You manage to reply, breathless.

The game is for multiple players, and though it was only going to be you and Vinca playing this round a third person slips into place, making the both of you interrupt the banter to look at her.

“Well, guess I’m beating both of your asses today.” Vinca comments, the very definition of pride, but you don’t follow-up with a smart reply. No, you’re too preoccupied by meeting the eyes of the other woman. You’re frozen in place.

“Oh, of course you’d be here.” She says, scowling as she gazes you up and down. “What, are you going to cheat at this, too, freak?”

“I… I’m not cheating.”

Vinca holds the snarky comment she was about to make, narrowing her eyes at the newcomer, analyzing her with clear wariness.

“Please, we both know you don’t have any real talent.” She grumbles. “You’ve been a loser for as long as I’ve known you, there’s no reason for that to have changed – you even dropped out of med school, didn’t you?” She smirks. You can’t help but flinch, your words dying on your throat as you look down to the floor. “If that isn’t utterly pathetic, I don’t know what is.”

Normally, you’d never let someone speak to you like that – it was because of that reason you had caught Vinca’s eye to begin with, but with this woman… it was different.

It was someone you believed in, not too long ago. Someone you thought would always have your back. Someone you had trusted with your most intimate secrets. Coming from her, the words are like poisonous arrows, piercing through your body mercilessly and bringing back painful memories. In the midst of it all, you can’t do much but endure her comments, praying she’ll get bored and leave.

Praying she won’t hurt you anymore.

And then, your vision becomes obscured. Blinking in confusion, you dare to look up only to be meet with Vinca’s red dress. She’s putting herself between you and your ex-best friend, like a human shield. It’s strangely comforting, especially because you didn’t expect that to happen at all.

“Back off.” Vinca snaps. “I won’t tolerate anyone that treats MC that way.”

You almost snort, because part of your banter is exchanging rapid-fire insults like there’s no tomorrow, but the part of you that is amused by it is quickly overshadowed by a wave of gratitude and admiration. And maybe, just maybe, awestruck adoration.

Vinca looms over your ex-best friend threateningly, the playful aura around her vanishing in an instant. She only radiated dangerous rage now. By the small cowed step from the other woman, you can tell it takes her by surprise.

“Hah, you…” She rolls back her shoulders, trying to regain her composure. “Y-you don’t know how much a freak she is, do you?”

Your blood freezes, and you scramble to interrupt the conversation.

“Vinca –” You start, but the blonde is already talking.

“Do I look like I care?”

“Y-you should –”

“She’s cool and I like her, that’s all that matters.” Vinca takes a step forward, eyes flashing. “Now scram.”

The woman’s eyes widen for a split second, and then she scowls as her eyes fall on you. There’s so much resentment and bitterness there that it makes your breath hitch, and your mouth snap shut.

“That’s all that matters?” She echoes. Then, to your surprise, she leans in to take Vinca by the forearms, shaking her. “That’s all that matters?!” She screams. “She’s a freak! She can do things nobody should be able to do!”

Vinca bristles, already moving to restrain her or push her off, but your ex-best friend is faster – she’s always been fast – and manages to sidestep her. Her eyes lock on yours and she throws her toy gun at you.

Your hands snap up to block the projectile, but what really saves you is a familiar tug of the air around you. There’s a blast of cold air; the gun goes flying off path and into the screen of the game, before clattering harmlessly in the ground.

Everyone who was watching stares harder. You blush. A feeling of shame falls over you, so strong it almost suffocates you.

There’s distant yelling that you realize is the manager and some employees.

You wince, wondering how things had gotten this bad this fast.

“Thank you for coming to a small part of our show, everyone! Please, come visit our full show later tonight.”

Confused, your gaze snaps up. Vinca is bowing and grinning like everything truly was planned beforehand. You and your ex-best friend exchange puzzled looks, and the crowd murmurs in astonishment. Then, Vinca proceeds to throw money – actual, green, flowy money – into the air, and they dissolve into excited screams.

Vinca smirks at you, amused, and then flicks a tiny knife towards your ex-best friend. She flinches, looking down at the small wound on her arm, but the rest of her reaction is lost as Vinca drags you away, at the same time the manager and employees finally arrive and start sorting out the mess that the arcade has become.

“Dammit, I wish I could have put her in her place.” Vinca grumbles once you’re far enough, and her grip over your arm vanishes as she continues to narrate what exactly she would have done. You miss the warmth of her hand instantly.

“I – I’m sorry about that, I guess I should go –”

Vinca’s head snaps up. “What? Why? You can’t leave now; we were just having fun!”

You look at her, puzzled. “You’re not… weirded out…?”

“About what?” She blinks, and then it seems to dawn on her what exactly your worries are. “Oh, the wind thing? Don’t worry.” She hesitates, eyes flicking to the side before meeting yours again. “My best friend is like you.” Your heart leaps at her words, and her lips curl up at your shocked expression. “What, thought you were special?”

You laugh. “I… I did, yeah. Um… T-think I was the only one, I mean.”

Vinca shrugs. “Her case it’s not exactly the same as yours. She was cursed, and her… abilities… aren’t something she can turn off but the point is I understand how difficult it can be to control. I deal with weird things all the time, so I can deal with another one, no problem.”

“Wait, she was cursed?” You ask, curious but also a little afraid. “That’s… that’s awful…” You bit your lip, trying to imagine how it may have been for her. “I was born like this, so I never got to experience a normal life, but she… she had the opportunity stolen from her, didn’t she…?”

Something crosses over Vinca’s expression. It’s a small flicker of worry, of indignation and rage for the situation her friend and you are both in. It’s gone in an instant.

“Shut it, pipsqueak.” She interrupts, blue eyes glinting with something you can’t discern. “Let’s grab something to eat so we can cheer you up, yeah? Afterwards you can ask me whatever you like. I never got to beat your ass at that shooting game, so you owe me that. C’mon, let’s go.”

#Anonymous #lovestruck #sin with me #swm vinca #sin with me vinca #vinca wren #vinca x mc #swm pride #women of lovestruck #lovestruck headcanons #fluff #touching thursday

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nad-zeta · 4 years

Note

Hi naddy bby~ I’m gon request an HC from you~ I know I’m requesting a lot but I love you so much and I need ur writing! Can I get a warlord reaction from Hideyoshi, mitsuhide, ieyasu, and ranmaru (if you’re comfortable writing him) to an mc who has a lotta piercings. Ear, tongue, nose, lip, maybe nipple even- ty~ ❤️😗✌️

Hi, love thanks so much for the request they are always so interesting and cool! Hehehe, so sidenote the craziest piecing I have is the fact that I have 3 piercings on both sides of my ears so yeah... Hehehe also the thought of nipple rings makes my nipples shrivel up in fear lol although my one friend has nipple rings and she freaken loves it! Anyways here is ya HC ｡◕‿◕｡Hope you enjoy this love! ❤

Warning: Mentions of sex

MC with Piercings Headcanons feat Hideyoshi, Mitsuhide, Ieyasu and Ranmaru

Hideyoshi

The first time he sees them he is not a fan ^_^;

Like he has never seen anyone, with more than the basic ear piercings before

“But you're naturally beautiful just the way you are, I don’t see why you should wear all that extra metal on your face.”

(￣□￣;)

You basically explain that it id part of your self expression and that you think they look pretty (✿◠‿◠)

“Well if it is how you chose to express yourself... I guess it’s okay then.” (╯°□°）╯

Give you a lecture anyways about the potential effects it will have on your future

“You know Hide I think you would look pretty good with an ear-piercing”

(●＾o＾●)

Cue Hideyoshi running away and parkouring over the castle wall before you get any ideas ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴

He slowly starts getting used to them

He becomes especially fond of your tongue ring ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He has never kissed someone with a tongue ring before, and he is shook (¬‿¬)

Like he could kiss you for hours, definitely wasn’t against your piercings after that (づ￣ ³￣)づ

Mitsuhide

He raises a brow the first time he sees you with more than just regular ear piercings (¬‿¬)

He kinda low key likes them

They add a sense of danger and edge to your look (▀̿Ĺ̯▀̿ ̿)

He gently traces over the ones on your ear and is literally in awe (◕‿◕✿)

They are utterly unique and extremely aesthetically pleasing

He definitely wants to find out more, so he will sneak in a question about them during one of your lessons ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )

All your stories of how you got then heavily intrigues him

“One night in was drunk and my friends and I decided it would be a good idea to get these nipple rings.”

His eyes widened ◉_◉

“Wait, little mouse do you mean to tell me you have those piecing on your nipples” ｡◕‿◕｡

Low key looks down at you boob (‘･ω･`)

Blushes a lil when he can see the outline of them through your kimono

Will tease you 24/7 ^̮^

“Why little mouse your piecings shine like little stars in the moonlight.”

Thinks your nipple rings are super hot (ΘεΘ;)

Loves to feel the contrast between the cold metal and your warm skin in his mouth

Will 100% tug on them a little during sex (¬‿¬)

“Looks like my little mouse enjoys a little pain.”

Forget about your hair he will definitely will play with your piercings between his fingertips (◕‿◕✿)

Ieyasu

He is super shocked and confused the first time he sees them (°.°)

He is also a little scared, has never seen so much metal on someone’s face and ears before

He kinda on the down-low is in awe and thinks you’re a total badass

ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪

After a while, he gets used to them and actually makes and paints pretty piercings with flower designs for you ❀

They are super cute and delicately done.

You are in awe at his ability to paint such cute small flowers on the smallest of earings ✽ ✾ ✿ ❀ ❁

Give you a small smile when he sees you wearing the flower nose ring

His first impression makes a complete 180 as now he thinks you are the cutest person alive

When he spots your nipple rings through your Kimoto one day he goes super red ◉_◉

Can’t help but feel a little turned on

“What are those,” He asks while being suuuuper red and shyly pointing to your nipples (⁄ ⁄◕⁄ω⁄◕⁄ ⁄✿) ⊙﹏⊙

“they’re my nipple rings, do you wanna see” （；￣︶￣）

They low key, high key turn him on ◍ ꒳ ◍

“Don’t just go around offering random strangers the chance to see your nipples.” ┌(;*´Д`)ﾉ

“But your not a stranger Ieyasu” (◕‿◕✿)

“Okay, but you can’t show anyone else.” (ΘεΘ;)

Loves to kiss you on the forehead, cheek and then instead of nose he kissed the nose ring

Ranmaru

He is in utter awe ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

Like you look so fancy and cool with all those different piercings (¬‿¬)

He spends 3 hours pestering you, asking you all sorts of questions about them (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

He admires you for being so bold

“If I had to get piercings on my face I would probably pass out or something” (◕‿◕✿)

You beam up at his “Wanna get a piercing together.” (◕‿◕✿)

He squeals like a little girl, holding both your hands jumping up and down while nodding (｡◕‿◕｡)

“HELL YEAH I WANNA GET ONE” ♪┏(・o･)┛(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:

He gets himself a nose piercing, while you get your nipples pierced

He is literally there holding your hand tightly through the whole process

He is awestruck at the fact that you didn’t even blink when getting your nipples pierced (▀̿Ĺ̯▀̿ ̿)

“aren’t they sore.”

“Pain is for the weak” ಠ_ಠ

( ▀ ͜͞ʖ▀)

He loves his new piercing! He will legit play with it when he is bored

(~˘▾˘)~

Hope you enjoyed love!❤❤🔥

#ikemen sengoku headcan #ikesen head canons #headcanons #ikemen sengoku headcanons #ikesen headcanons #ikesen hc #ikemen sengoku hc #ikesen ieyasu #ieyasu tokugawa #mitsuhide akechi #ikesen mitsuhide #hideyoshi toyotomi #ikemen sengoku hideyoshi #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen ranmaru

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etn-story-archive · 3 years

Text

Enter the Nomicon - Chapter 16: Dream a Little Dream of Me

It was almost dreamlike, unreal and light, like he would fly away into the endless abyss of the night. The entirety of the sensation seemed strangely familiar, yet he was unable to place it. The only true sign of the reality he was in came from what he saw and what he felt all around him.

The nightly air was thick and laced with a heaviness that rested at his chest. There were brief intervals of gentle breezes that carefully combed through shaggy, disheveled hair. Sadly, the airy waves did little to truly alleviate the foreboding sense of suffocation. Still, Randy appreciated the small comfort the breeze provided. It helped to calm his shot nerves, allowing him to think about more pressing matters at hand. Especially the ones that pertained to his current situation; Randall Cunningham was dead, or at least that was what he thought. But how else could he explain all of this--where he was, and the lack of remembrance as to how he got there?

Randy took a conscious step forward, before stopping to carefully eye his surroundings for, what he could only guess, was the uptenth time in the past several minutes. He was standing in the heart of what appeared to be a large village that practically screamed ‘ancient Japan’ with its charming and regal architecture. The large community itself appeared to be heavily inspired by Little Norrisville, but even then, Little Norrisville held a stronger sense of modernity compared to here, wherever that may be; it certainly wasn't from his time.

This had left Randy utterly confused, because how could he be somewhere other than his own time, and not remember how he has gotten there?

Maybe he really was dead.

Regardless, none of this coincided with Randy's memories of the day.

The young ninja continued to march on, having no other idea of what else he should do.

Admittedly, some parts of Randy's memories were choppy, but there was just enough to paint a clear enough picture in his mind.

He remembered Nomi and himself charging headfirst into a sea of monster students and freeing them from the Sorceress's influence, before they had found themselves being confronted by the Sorceress and Mac Antfee. He could still feel the deathly grip of Mac's hand on his throat; the man had come dangerously close to ending Randy's life, and then just like that, he had been torn away from Randy. A nightmarish form of his teacher had seemingly come from thin air, and like some scaly, runaway freight train, bulldozed Mac away. It had not only saved him from dying right then and there, but it had also lead to the brutal end of Nomi's former student.

At that point, Randy was on the verge of passing out, but had forced all of his strength in keeping himself awake long enough to calm Nomi back down to his human form. The redheaded teacher had immediately scooped Randy up, clutching the teen close to his chest as he fell into hysterics, being reduced to a sobbing mess.

Nomi had felt so warm and safe, despite the fact that he had just murdered someone, and Randy could taste the words of a confession on the tip of his tongue. Yet now, it was tasteless and lost in his mind. He could, however, feel a sense of regret, as if he had failed to let slip what he had wanted to say to Nomi.

Darkness had overcome him, but at some point he had become conscious again for a brief few seconds. Randy had found himself laying on a gurney inside a speeding ambulance, and Howard had been there, right beside him, screaming frantically into Randy's ears. However, the amethyst haired teen had been too dazed and confused to fully comprehend a single thing that Howard had said. Then he blacked out again.

Finally, the last time he had awoken, had been when he found himself in the midst of the ancient Japanese village, basking underneath the light of the starry sky and cradled by moonlight.

Once again the question entered his mind, "Where am I?”

There was no answer to his question, or at least not yet, he thought, correcting himself. Seeing as he wouldn't find answers on his own, he decided to focus on walking forward. As he studied his surroundings for any clues of his whereabouts, Randy silently hoped that he would be able to find someone with answers.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem possible, as he noted the lack of light coming from any of the buildings. It was safe to assume that the village occupants were sound asleep. Well, apparently except for one.

In the far off distance, Randy's blue eyes spotted a small, humble home atop a lone, grassy field. The little home seemed less luxurious compared to the other buildings and was surrounded by Japanese maples, a trail of lanterns led up to the front steps of the home. It was almost like something out of a videogame to Randy, and it was silently calling to him, begging him to come closer.

Randy could hardly register his feet moving towards the little home, until he was standing at its wooden door. Hesitantly, he raised a fist and, went to knock, but instead of his fist coming to contact with the door, his whole arm phased through it. His eyes began to widen.

The first thing that came to his mind was the dream Randy had had a few weeks back, back when he had first met Nomi.

“I’m dreaming?”

Randy could barely hide the shock and surprise from his voice; he wasn’t dead, afterall.

Tentatively, he stepped all the way through the door. A soft gasp escaped him, a strange sensation running through his body as he slipped through the door.

What he found inside was something he certainly had not expected to see.

A teen, perhaps around his age, sat at the very center of the room in a meditative position, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. The male bore light brown hair that was pulled into a high ponytail. A dirty, torn shroud rested over his shoulders, and underneath the shroud, the teen wore a traditional Japanese outfit, which mainly consisted of red, white and black. However, what really shocked Randy was what sat right in front of the teen: the Nomicon.

Randy stared wordlessly as the brunette teen opened his eyes, revealing eyes the same color as his hair.

He spoke in Japanese, yet Randy was able to understand his every word, as if he had spoken in English.

“Dear teacher, I may not know of your origins, nor do I fully understand your motives. I do, however, understand our common goal to rid this world of the Sorcerer. He killed my brothers, of whom helped defend our home to their dying breaths. I will do my part in doing the same, though I cannot do it alone. Will you teach me?”

The Nomicon seemed pleased with the boy’s answer, emitting a low buzzing hum.

The teen smiled and suddenly stood up, stretching his limbs, before picking up Nomi. The brunette left the room in silence.

At that, Randy snapped out of the awestruck stupor he had been in, and hastily followed after the two.

The whole world seemed to shift, and Randy had not noticed it, until he stepped into the room the teen had left to. There was only a single light source in the room, which came from a small lantern that sat idly on a wooden desk. Its owner, an old man, was quietly sitting beside said desk, with the Nomicon laying in front of him. He held a sad, tired expression as he spoke in a soft whisper.

"My time as the Ninja of the Norisu Village has long since been over, and peace has been since then achieved. I have completed my mission, old friend, and I believe it is soon time for you to choose another who must carry on the duty to protect our home. I am weak, ill; my time is quickly coming nearer.”

The Nomicon didn’t respond at first, but then red smoke seeped through his pages, and Nomi Conikos Norisu suddenly appeared. He sat on the edge of the desk, eyes red and puffy with large tears.

Randy was shocked to see his teacher so torn apart, and he had to refrain from going over to Nomi’s side to try to comfort him. The action would be in vain, of course. He was nothing more than a ghost here.

Nomi spoke, his voice shaky.

”I-I know, but I cannot abandon a friend. You have dedicated your whole life to carry on the duty, a burden, that I could not. You sought no wives. You bore no children. You have given up the chance to live a long, prosperous life. The least that I may do is spare the time for you until you pass.”

The old man chuckled softly.

"I am simply astounded by your sentimentalism. The tough and stern teacher, showing emotions? Shock! Has hell itself frozen over?!”

Randy half expected Nomi to be somewhat offended by the old man’s words, but instead was met by a snorting laugh.

“Or perhaps, my student has finally given me a reason to show emotion?”

The old man let out a resounding laugh, knowing full well that it was physically impossible to outwit and out sass his teacher.

Randy sensed this, and he found himself grinning. The forlorn mood in the room seemed to lift, and he quietly watched as the old man and Nomi hugged each other tightly. The amethyst haired teen shuddered. An odd sensation danced up his spine, like an icy hand, a gasp leaving his lips.

The room then seemed to warp, and he found himself standing outside, right before the little house. However, everything seemed different.

The comfy little home had become somewhat run-down. It was daylight, but deep, dark clouds hid away the sun. The air was chilling to the bone, and the entire atmosphere felt listless and depressing. Randy was standing beside Nomi, whose face was full of grievance. In his hands, Nomi clutched an elegant sword, its blade covered by a dark red sheath. The magical being wordlessly unsheath the katana, displaying a dark blade. Kanji symbols were eloquently inscribed on both handle and blade, which seemed to bear the semblance of the words ‘Goodbye, my friend.’

Nomi paused, before he suddenly plunged the great weapon into the earth. He clutched the handle tightly, hands shaking. Softly, the red haired ninja murmured out the words,

"You were a grand ninja, though you were an even greater friend.”

Nomi sat on his haunches and stared up at the home with a deep fondness, tears were beginning to form in his eyes, when another figure came to join him. A cowboy-hatted man carefully rested a hand on his back.

"Ya know, it is time for us to go.”

His voice held a thick southern accent.

Nomi simply nodded. The two glanced at the house once more, before taking their leave. It was not until the little house was a tiny speck in the distance that Nomi suddenly crumbled to the ground, onto his hands and knees. Loud, body wracking sobs left his lips, and his voice was hoarse as he shouted and screamed, cursing the unfairness of his life, because why him? He didn’t want to keep living in this miserable loop of existence, when all he could feel was pain and endless suffering.

“WHY ME!? I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE! I CAN’T! I DON’T WANT TO BE IMMORTAL ANYMORE!”

Randy rushed immediately at Nomi’s side, and he wrapped his arms around the sobbing teen into a loose hug. Any tighter, and he would simply phase through Nomi.

Even if Nomi could not feel any of this, it still brought Randy some comfort for himself. He buried a part of his face into Nomi’s back, tears beginning to form in his blue eyes.

The cowboy-hatted man noticed Nomi’s state, and instantly made his way towards the sobbing teen. He calmly lowered himself to Nomi’s level, and began to utter words of comfort.

“It’ll be okay…”

Randy peered over to the man, and furrowed his brows. The man’s words were slowly starting to slur, becoming more and more indecipherable. Suddenly, Nomi and the cowboy seemed far away, and the world was beginning to disappear and fade into a void of emptiness.

Randy began to panic. He ran, and tried to return back to Nomi, but the more he tried, the more far away they seemed until the dark swallowed them and himself whole.

��..

Nomi was thankful that Gene had given him the t-shirt and basketball shorts; it was unbelievably hot. Up until now, the days had been cool and wet thanks to the previous rains, but now the summer’s simmering heat had come back with a vengeful bite. However, there seemed to be only one down side to Nomi’s current apparel. The clothes did absolutely nothing to protect his arms and legs from the small thorns of the bush he was currently sitting in.

A pair of footsteps caught Nomi’s attention, but then they just as quickly faded off. Poking his head out of the bushes, Nomi was relieved to find that it wasn’t a doctor, just a regular person finishing up a smoke. The scent of the cigarette lingered in the air for a moment, eventually snuffing out.

It had taken Nomi nearly half an hour to get to the hospital, the only delays being caused by himself. He was still unsure if he was truly prepared to see his student, unsure if the teen was even alive. If he was, Randy would more than likely be in a less than good state of being.

It was after having taken another detour, this time through a park, that Nomi finally made his way to the hospital. He made sure to avoid any entrances, and stayed just beyond the hospital camera's line of sight. He also made it a point to stray away from any hospital personnel, such as the nurse who had spotted him earlier, and took to the side of the hospital. Then, Nomi had made a beeline for a nearby bush, the one he was now hiding in.

Nomi looked around to make sure there weren’t any other passerbyers, and after a moment of preparation, began scaling the hospital wall. He soon reached a window that was just a few levels above the ground. It seemed that no one had bothered to lock it, and it was never opened at any times, making the window a bit finicky. It took some fidgeting before Nomi was able to pry it open, and he wasted no time diving inside.

Nomi landed onto vinyl flooring in silence. Shooting a brief glance in the almost pitch black storage room, it seemed that no one else but Nomi was here.

Good. That made this all the more easier.

On a metal shelving rack, there was an old janitor’s jacket, a pair of musty looking pants and boots, and a black flipback hat. Nomi graciously took the items and slipped them on. Unsurprisingly, most of the clothes were far too big and baggy. Even the hat seemed to be a size too big, covering a portion of Nomi’s face. But he didn’t mind.

He sipped out of the dark room. Nobody seemed to notice or question him. More than likely, everyone was too busy to take a good look and see a kid wearing some old janitor outfit. Thanking every and any deity in existence that the disguise had worked, Nomi wordlessly made his way to one of the many help centers.

“Excuse me, I seem to have gotten very lost on my way to see a friend. His name is Randy Cunningham, do you know where his room is?”

The receptionist looked up from the computer and was a little startled by Nomi’s somewhat sudden appearance.

“Oh! Well of course! Just give me one second.”

Turning back to the computer beside him, he instantly began typing with incredible speed and accuracy. He turned back to Nomi with a slight smile.

"Randy Cunningham is two levels above us, room 503.”

Nomi nodded, muttering a soft,"thank you,” and was about to leave, when the receptionist called out to him.

“Wait, are you an unaccompanied minor?”

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Nomi would have laughed at the question; he was no average minor.

“Yes, I am.”

The man hummed, then turned his back to Nomi and began digging around his desk.

"Dahlia on the first floor should’ve given you one, really any of the other receptionists,” he seemed to find what he was looking for and placed it atop the desk as he continued. "Oh well, I guess they must’ve had their hands full. The recent monster attack at school left quite a number of people injured, thankfully no fatalities as far as I heard.”

Nomi thanked the male as he took the item (a sticker that labeled Nomi a minor) off of the receptionist’s desk. His chest swelled with absolute relief that no one else had died, and that Randy was clearly alive.

With that, Nomi bid the receptionist good bye, and ran towards the nearest elevator in sight. He nearly broke the elevator’s button, and was even tempted to ditch the elevator. It was going far too slow for Nomi’s tastes.

After a mere few seconds passed, he was most seriously considering his alternative plan, when there was a soft ding, signifying that the elevator had reached his floor. He stepped inside quickly.

The doors had barely opened and Nomi shouldered past, ignoring any eyes on him. Nomi simply didn’t care anymore. He hadn’t even noticed that he had zoomed past a disgruntled and exhausted Ms. Cunningham.

It wasn’t until Nomi spotted the room that he slowed down.

The anxiety and guilt from before almost instantaneously resurfaced, and Nomi seemed hesitant to venture further inside.

Was it too late to turn around?

“Yes, yes it is.”

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes as he stepped inside the hospital room. As Nomi reopened his eyes, he wasn’t all too surprised by the somewhat ordinary setup of the room. The walls were a sterile white, the air in the room stale, and the soft steady beeping of a heart monitor. The only thing that seem to stand in complete contrast to the room was the teen lying in the hospital bed. Randy.

Nomi’s heart nearly jolted out of his chest as he took in the state of his student. Bandages were dotted all over Randy’s face, some were even wrapped around the amethyst haired teen’s throat. There were wires and tubings all connected to Randy. From an arterial line to an endotracheal tube which went through Randy’s nose, allowing the teen to breath. It seemed that Mac Antfee had done more damage to Randy’s throat than what had been expected.

Edging closer to Randy’s bedside, Nomi was thankful to find that Randy was asleep, just as he had hoped back when he was at Gene’s. Running a hand through Randy’s hair, a sad smile gently graced his lips.

Without much thought, Nomi leaned down and pressed his lips against Randy’s forehead, and pulled away. As much as he wanted to savor this moment, Nomi was pressed for time. He already wasted a good deal of time working up the nerve to even come here in the first place.

Now he needed to hunt down the Sorceress, before she did anything with the mask.

Sighing, the redhead slipped away from his student, only pausing at the nearby window to look over at Randy once more. He hesitated, before finally forcing himself to leave.

What Nomi didn’t see was that his student’s eyes flickering open, wide and full of fear.

#Enter the Nomicon #ETN #Chapter 16 #story repost

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cle1024 · 4 years

Text

save me, save you | hhj

member: hwang hyunjin

genre: angst, fluff

summary: getting involved with the mafia was certainly not something you aimed to do in life―it was something you would’ve gratefully avoided, you much preferred breathing and living peacefully. yet, somehow, meeting him made the danger worth it. mafia!au, gang!au, fem!reader

warnings: mentions of murder, violence, drugs, swearing

a/n: so uh,, i know nothing about saving someone’s life or fixing up a stab/bullet wound, and i also wasn’t taught much about human anatomy, so there WILL be inaccuracies in the medical scenes. i apologise in advance and i guess this is a cringe warning for anyone who is actually educated on those situations, i dropped out of science so can’t relate. i started this not long after miroh dropped i could just never be bothered to finish it until recently, but third hyunjin fanfic in a row here we come!!!!!!

There was no doubt in your mind that Felix Lee was your best friend and always had been.

The two of you grew up near one another, subsequently attending school together for the majority of your lives. It was the third day of school when the freckled boy approached you, tanned skin and dark hair, but a bright smile and sparkly eyes.

“My name is Felix, let’s be friends!”

“Okay.”

Life by Felix’s side was enjoyable, content. Life was normal. And so, when Felix broke the news that he was moving to South Korea, you were understandably devastated. Though, you knew how much it meant to Felix: getting more in touch with his culture, family, and pursuing his studies more seriously and competitively. Nonetheless, despite all the pain and upset you felt, you supported his decision and maintained contact with him.

That was six years ago when Felix left. Now, you’d both graduated from high school, Felix had acquired a stable job (that’s all he would tell you about it), and you were applying for an international studies program. You had no interest in the program initially, but your local universities had less than stellar resources for the course you wanted to study, and your teachers had constantly reassured that you were smart enough for a more prestigious institution elsewhere in the world. That and the fact the program meant your tuition would cost much less. You hadn’t expected to be accepted into the program, nor did you expect to receive a letter from the prestigious Seoul National University accepting your enrolment, yet you sat there with the printed letter in front of your awestruck face. It was only natural that you immediately text Felix—you told each other, almost, everything and he lived in Seoul, this could be the reunion you’d joked about when he first left.

| so i got accepted into seoul national university | but i don’t speak good korean | lix: LMAO ME NEITHER HOLY FUCK

Twelve months had passed since that message was sent. Your were almost fluent in speaking Korean, you much preferred just listening to it and speaking English with Felix. A sigh escaped your lips as you trudged to your apartment door, exhaustion racked your body from the unbearable demand of studying medical science. You tried to convince yourself it would pay off, but you weren’t certain yet. Perhaps when you sit your exams you’ll find out. Exams. Why did you have to think that up? It drew a small groan from your mouth as you shoved the key into your apartment door, prepared to fall face first into the couch and complain to the air. Though your desires could not be fulfilled. Sitting on the very couch you intended to fall into was Felix, twirling a swiss army knife twirl around his right fingers as he watched his phone intently. There was also a gun on the coffee table. Someone’s gun was on your coffee table. You had a lot running through your mind, many questions and minor concerns about why the fuck Felix had illicit weaponry in your house, but all you managed to say was, “oh.” The boy obviously hadn’t heard you come in, his head snapping up and his fingers halting their twirling. Looking in your eyes, he felt obligated to tell you everything.

“That means I’m, basically, part of the mafia,” he paused to lick his lips, “we don’t sell weapons to the wrong people or kill for money. It’s more about… corruption and the occasional cocaine,” he summed up gently. You could definitively say it was the wildest fucking thing Felix had ever said to you, and you’d had some pretty odd conversations at two in the morning. As far as you knew, his job was stable and high paying, but you didn’t know it was completely and utterly illegal. Most sane people would flip their shit in this situation, cut off ties with Felix and shove him—along with all his weapons—out of the apartment. You didn’t react that way, and you weren’t sure whether it was because you were far too open-minded or because you had slowly lost your mind over time and become desensitised to any sort of shocking news.

“Oh.”

Felix chewed on his lip as you processed the information, clasping and unclasping his hands. He prepared for the worst, but you simply shrugged, “okay.”

Felix was beyond bewildered, “y-you’re not mad? Or scared?” Your eyes softened at his questioning.

“Felix, why would I be mad? It’s your life, do whatever you want with it. Your job doesn’t change the fact you’re a freckled sook who cried when you made your ramen too spicy.”

“Okay, that was one time,” you laughed at his defensive expression and that was enough to break the facade completely. The two of you laughed for a little while until Felix’s face returned to a more serious expression, “Y/N, I promise you, you’re in no danger whatsoever. The golden rule in this district is to leave innocent people out of it, regardless of how much someone fucked you over. If anyone, and I mean anyone, does anything that alarms you or threatens you, you call me right away. Understand?”

A soft smile stretched across your face at his concern, “of course I will,” Felix breathed a sigh of relief. If anything happened to you, especially at the fault of his job, he’d never forgive himself. To him, family came before his own safety; you were his unbiological sibling and he would always protect you as best as he could.

It was all fine and dandy until someone broke that rule. Your eyes stung with exhaustion, the bright screen of your laptop glared at you as you tiredly read the words displayed on the screen. There was nothing you craved more at the moment than sleep; you seemed to be craving that a lot since you came to Korea. At first, you thought the distant sound of a doorknob being wobbled was one of your neighbours. It was a Friday night—or Saturday morning, you supposed—they’d probably gone out, got shit-faced and stumbled back home, having forgotten how to unlock a door. But then the noise stopped, a door squeaked open and was gently shut. You heard the door click back into place, and that’s when things started to feel off. It sounded too close to be next door—now that you thought about it, neither of your neighbours would even be out at this time. Perhaps it was Felix, he had often complained about how shitty the door to your apartment was. With a stretch of your arms and legs momentarily you pushed yourself from the bed, creeping towards your bedroom door. The cool metal of the doorknob brushed against your skin, seconds away from being opened when a series of crashes sounded from the small living room on the other side of the door. Felix may be clumsy, he may sit up too quickly and hit his head on tables, but he rarely managed to break anything in the process—if he did then the sound was followed with a string of English curses, but cuss words never came. You were starting to believe it was Felix. With all the courage you could muster, you opened the bedroom door and stood shocked at the scene in front of you. A vase lay broken on the floor—crash one. Your white sofa had been tipped backwards, the cushions scattered the floor. The coffee table had been overturned, candles left strewn on the floor. Your porcelain plate, which had previously sat by the sink, was attempting to escape the kitchen in hundreds of pieces—crash two. The wooden shelving unit diagonal to your bedroom had been tipped over, all your picture frames smashed into dangerous shards of glass—crash three. The chest of drawers near your bedroom door had been left untouched for the time being, a photo of you and Felix at seven years old perfectly intact. In the midst of chaos, a man stood with a black ski mask covering his face. All you could see where his ominous brown eyes, staring right back at you. It felt like you were staring into a dark pool, full of mystery yet devoid of emotion or sense of reality. It seemed to happen in an instant; one minute you were standing there in an intense stare off, the next you had been shoved against the wall of your living room right next to your bedroom door, your phone falling from your free hand in the process. His glove-clad hand wrapped securely around your throat, the pressure of his fingers increasing to cut off your air supply once and for all. You clawed at him, but you already knew it was no use. He was twice the size of you, had the upper hand, and had already weakened you significantly. You’d already accepted that you were destined to die at some point, everyone was, but you’d always secretly prayed that you’d get to say goodbye first. You didn’t want to leave without telling your parents you loved them, or telling your friends back home that they were some of the greatest people you’d ever met, or just saying a simple ‘cya’ to Felix, as you always did. Felix. The memory struck you like lightning as your vision started to spot slightly. When he confessed to you about his career, made that promise of protection, he had purposefully left something behind.

“Take this,” Felix said as he held the swiss army knife towards you.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“If you ever need to defend yourself and I can’t, for some reason, use it.”

You’d made the wise decision to hide it in your living room, behind that picture of you and Felix. If you could stretch your arm just a little further, you could grab the red covering. Your fingers strained as you held out for the weapon, head lifting up as your vision worsened. The sharp metal tickled at your fingers, causing you to desperately snatch the weapon up. You used all the coherence you had left, swiftly flicking the knife out of the plastic covering. Your vision was blurred, severely, and you could feel yourself losing consciousness. Just a little longer. With all the strength you could muster, you brought the blade upwards, taking no notice of where you stabbed him. A grunt left his lips, followed by some choked gasps. His hand unlatched from your neck to grab his own. You fell to your knees, wheezing for oxygen desperately, taking deep breaths as you coughed and gasped. Your eyes traveled downwards, catching sight of the red. There was blood all along the knife, staining your fingers. The man lay ahead of you on his back, blood spilling from his throat as he twitched and choked up the metallic substance. It was all over the floor around him. You could tell you’d caught an artery. In desperation, you tugged the purple hoodie from your shoulders, holding it against the man’s open neck wound. It seemed to get harder to breathe, even without the hand working to restrict your. Hands shaking, covered in the man’s crimson blood, tears streamed down your face. With the absence of your purple hoodie, now stained with the blood of someone else, the cold air nipped at your exposed skin. There were some red smears on your once white singlet. Why was there so much red? The shaking of your hands only worsened as you crawled to sit against the wall, hand reaching for the cellphone you’d dropped in the commotion. You only needed one person right now. The phone didn’t ring for long.

“Y/N, what’s up?” Felix spoke calmly through the phone, blissfully unaware. A sob forced up your throat as you tried to talk.

“F-Felix, I killed someone. Oh, God, I killed someone,” your voice came out between broken sobs. You could imagine Felix standing up in a panic, gathering his shit and furrowing his eyebrows.

“What do you mean? Where are you?”

“I-I’m at home, someone came in and I didn’t know what was happening and I-I stabbed him, Felix I sta-”

“Hey, take a deep breath, okay? I’m on my way right now, don’t move,” you nodded in response, knowing fully well that Felix couldn’t see you. Mumbling an okay, you ended the call.

Felix gently pushed open the door, ushering in the others. Chan, Minho and Changbin had insisted on coming along with Felix, worried someone else could be lurking and waiting for Felix to enter your apartment block. The apartment was in disarray: furniture tipped, photo frames shattered, a plate thrown carelessly like a toy. A body surrounded by blood, and Felix’s childhood friend sitting against the wall behind it, shaking. The purple material of your hoodie was stained, noticeably so, laying across your legs haphazardly. Felix rushed forward, crouching to your level and pulling you into his chest. The others watched from a few feet away, uncertain of what to say or do.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” Felix cooed as sobs wracked your form. He swayed you gently, petting your hair to calm you down. The youngest turned his attention towards the other boys once your sobs quietened slightly, “Minho, can you take Y/N back down to the car? We’ll be down in a minute,” Minho nodded silently, gently walking towards you to scoop you up in his arms, the hoodie remaining bundled up on your legs. Neither of you said a word once you entered the car. Minho peeled the cover up from your lap, slightly gagging at the toxic iron scent of the blood. He gently take your hands in his as he washed off as much blood as he could with a white cloth and water bottle. Your mind was evidently elsewhere.

Chan and Felix returned to the car ten minutes later after thoroughly searching for stolen possessions. Chan filled Minho in on the details, hoping you’d gain some closure from hearing them, “he was from NCT, had some silver bracelets and their wallet shoved in his bag. Changbin called Woojin, they’ll put everything back in place,” Minho nodded softly as Felix opened up the car door on your other side. The car starts as Felix takes one of your hands in his, the red stains faded to a lighter tone. You seemed to take no notice, staring blankly at the car’s console in front of you.

It was late, or early depending on how you see it. Red lines illuminated in formation of the time, 3:36am. The car had pulled up in front of a dark house in a quieter area of Seoul, yet still off one of the main roads. You concluded that it was only quiet because of the ungodly time, otherwise there would be cars cramming the streets, honking left and right. Chan exited the car first, purposefully closing the door gently to not alarm or shock you, Minho following suit. Felix opened his door, tugging your hand gently to encourage you to leave the vehicle. It was as if you were on autopilot. Blood splattered legs moved on their own as the green hoodie Minho had leant you protected your arms from the chilling night air, Felix’s arm slipped around your waist to support you as you walked into the house. He noticed that Woojin’s car was missing from the street; he wondered how long it would take Woojin and Changbin to fix up your apartment. As you stepped foot inside the quiet house, it revealed itself to be much larger than you initially thought. The kitchen was furthest from you, a spiral staircase to the right that led you both upstairs and downstairs, a hallway that trailed off from the left side of the living room. The living room was cozy and inhabited by two boys packing cocaine. Lovely.

“Hey ma- what the fuck?” The smaller of the two, a brunette boy with chubby cheeks, spoke as he raised his head to greet the returning members. The other boy, with lighter brown hair, almost a dirty blonde, mirrored the other’s confusion. Neither had expected to see a random person with bloody hands, legs and absent eyes being guided through the house by Felix. The freckled boy didn’t stop to greet them, immediately guiding you upstairs to wash off in the bathroom. The two boys immediately understood the severity of the situation, but they still craved for answers.

“NCT went after them. All they did was defend themselves from death,” Chan spoke firmly, his eyebrows slightly curved in a mix of sympathy and fury.

Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed, “but we don’t go after innocent people?”

Chan huffed in response, “clearly NCT had other plans. Where’s Seungmin?”

“Basement. Jeongin’s there too,” Hyunjin spoke as he turned his attention back to the white substance on the coffee table. Chan nodded firmly before leaving, Minho falling onto the empty couch across from the two boys to stretch his tired limbs. Hyunjin sat with furrowed eyebrows, staring at the table intensely.

“Hyunjin, you good?” Minho questioned in concern.

“Yeah, just… something feels off about this.”

Jisung huffed a laugh, “well, yeah, NCT just broke a golden rule.”

“That’s the point, why would they?” Jisung had suddenly lost interest in the business transaction being organised on the table, Minho sitting up in curiosity. Hyunjin flickered his eyes to the staircase momentarily, “you know how anal they are about maintaining that rule. Taeyong made the damn rule after…” Hyunjin trailed off as all eyes lowered solemnly, no one wanted to utter her name. They all knew how much it hurt Taeyong when she was murdered, everyone was hurt, shocked. There was no reason to bring up old pain, “why would they break it now?” Minho tilted his head as he wandered over the possibilities, Jisung put his focus back on the white substance with a sigh.

“Whatever the reason, Chan will make them pay,” his nimbled hands continued with his previous work, “no fucking doubt.”

Chan stood as Taeyong entered the cafe, bowing and shaking hands before sitting down again. It was better to meet in a public setting, less likely for emotions and irrationality to get the better of anyone involved. The older ran a hand through his fiery red hair in frustration, “what happened?”

Chan lowered his voice cautiously, “Felix’s friend, Y/N... one of your men tried to kill them this past Friday.”

Taeyong moved forward in his seat, leaning his elbows on the table with narrowed eyes, “what are you talking about?”

“Ji Hansol broke into their apartment and almost killed an innocent person. One of your men broke the golden rule.”

“Where is he?” Taeyong was evidently furious; that rule was the one thing he drilled into his employees’ minds.

“Dead. It was either him or them.”

Taeyong shook his head in disbelief, “if they hadn’t have already killed him I would’ve done it myself,” he paused abruptly, eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement, “wait—Ji Hansol?” Chan nodded, “how is that possible? He’s meant to be in China.”

Chan mirrored Taeyong’s look of confusion, “then what the hell was he doing here?”

Taeyong sighed, “as suspicious as it looks, I swear on her life that NCT was not behind this in any way. I’ll get the documents to prove he wasn’t meant to be here, I’ll help you get to the bottom of this, I’ll do whatever I can,” his voice softened significantly, “no innocent person deserves to die.”

Lee Taeyong, as intimidating as he could be, was truly a weakened man. Behind the eyebrow slit, dark narrowed eyes, fiery red hair and commanding presence, he was a grieving lover, a leader of men who could die under his call. Chan knew he hadn’t lived the same experiences as the older, but he understood the fear that plagued him. The fear of losing everything, everyone—the only difference was that Taeyong had already experienced that when she died. Seulgi had done such a good job at keeping Taeyong together, but in doing so she became the only thing that could tear him apart.

No one had a clue as to why you were targeted to begin with. NCT had proven their lack of involvement, none of Chan’s gang — which you’d come to know as ‘Stray Kids’ — had done anything to provoke Hansol, and he clearly wasn’t here to give an explanation. Seungmin had spent weeks researching the man, with the occasional help of Jeongin when he wasn’t at school or using an innocent childlike facade to coax information. After just over two months, Seungmin had finally found out what happened. During that time, you hadn’t left the guest room unless it was absolutely necessary. Felix and Changbin had returned to your apartment the day after the break-in to collect the belongings you’d need most desperately; none of them wanted you returning to the apartment until there was an answer.

Seungmin’s chair swivelled around to face Chan and Taeyong in the doorway, “Voler.”

“What?”

“It’s French for ‘steal’ apparently,” Seungmin gestured his pen towards his desk, “it’s also the name of a huge hitman and robbery scheme across Asia. It’s believed to have stemmed from the Yakuza, but nothing’s confirmed. Our dear Hansol happened to be a loyal member.”

Taeyong shook his head in disbelief, “I-I don’t understand, how could he betray us like that?”

Seungmin sighed softly, “it paid very high, mainly because the stakes were so high. That doesn’t matter though, we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands now,” Seungmin’s hands sifted through the scattered information on his desk, a small noise of triumph leaving his soft lips once he retrieved the piece he was looking for, “they’ve got a base in Ilsandong-gu, Hansol was stationed at that specific base-”

“Which means they were more likely to have involvement in Y/N’s robbery,” Chan voiced earning a satisfied nod from Seungmin. The curly-haired man turned to Taeyong, “you in?”

Taeyong eyed the younger two momentarily, “without a fucking doubt.”

Woojin grunted slightly as he supported Hyunjin with his left arm. They all knew the dangers this mission presented, but none of them quite preempted severe injury. Everything had been going to plan; Changbin sniped the first man who presented himself, Minho snuck up on the second, then all hell broke loose. There was blood everywhere, gunshots whizzing past barricades left and right, it was pure chaos. Hyunjin had been grappling with a rival member, trying to gain dominance in order to reach for the gun abandoned beside the two. He had almost reached it when the other forced a knife through his abdomen towards the upper right of his belly button. Changbin took the chance to shoot the perpetrator in the head after noticing the situation, desperately signalling to Woojin. Soon, all of SKZ were alerted of Hyunjin’s state, covering Woojin from gunfire as he half-dragged half-carried Hyunjin out of the warehouse.

When you heard the door burst open, the last thing you expected to see was a groaning Hyunjin leaning on Woojin for support. You saw the blood staining his shirt, pouring from his abdomen, causing your stomach to churn and rid of the desire to eat the sandwich you’d just made. You hardly knew Hyunjin, or Woojin, or any of SKZ except for Felix, but you knew where your morals lied. If there was a man bleeding out in front of you, you’d do everything you could to save his life. There’s no denying that you didn’t have extreme confidence in your medical ability, at least in terms of operating on dying people, but you put that aside in the moment. You knew how the human body worked and how to save it, all you had to do was not fuck up in the process. Instantly, you snap into action, trailing behind Woojin towards their designated medical room. The only time you’d entered the room was when Felix forced you inside so Woojin could properly check the bruises on your neck. You had taken notice of the lack of anesthesia or oxygen masks to be used in desperate situations—Felix had once told you that Woojin always patched them up, but he also told you that no one had ever been fatally wounded.

Woojin’s panic was evident in the way he hastily laid Hyunjin down on the operating table, eyes darting around frantically. With quick steps, you moved beside Woojin, “get a cloth or something to put in his mouth, it’ll muffle the screams,” the older nodded quickly. You turned your attention back to Hyunjin—he was paler than usual, sweating and groaning, his condition was only worsening. As soon as Woojin had shoved the cloth in his mouth you proceeded, ordering him to hold Hyunjin down to the best of his ability. You were glad Woojin was strong; Hyunjin would be in a hell of a lot of pain. Hyunjin’s neck tensed as you placed a hand on the knife’s handle, grunting slightly at the movement. You took a deep breath, laying a hand on his abdomen for support as you removed the knife from him as quickly as you could. A pained scream tore from Hyunjin’s throat, guttural and haunting. The cloth had done little to muffle the sound. Your hands applied pressure to the wound, frantically working to halt the bleeding before it was too late, all the while Woojin promised he would treat Hyunjin to a free meal if he got through the pain.

Hyunjin’s chest raised up and down peacefully as he slept in the white bed of the medical room. After screaming and groaning his way through the process of getting stitches, he haphazardly downed a glass of water before falling asleep. You found it difficult to monitor whether the boy had made it or not due to the lack of heart monitor, the peaceful sounds of his breathing would have to do for now.

“I can’t thank you enough, Y/N, really,” Woojin spoke warmly. You’d have previous assumptions about the mafia and gangs, mainly based on Hollywood flicks that dramatised the career choice, but the nine boys seemed to throw those all out the window. Woojin had a nurturing and calming presence, Felix was playful and giving, that Minho guy who’d fixed you up that night was quiet and respectful. To be fair, the rest of them could have entirely fit the stereotype of the mafia, you just hadn’t interacted with them enough to find out. After the events that brought you here, you decided it would be best to just stay out of the way and keep to yourself—both for your benefit and theirs. You didn’t want to interrupt what they had going on and you didn’t want to interact with anyone. With a polite smile you nodded your head, unsure of how to respond to Woojin.

Chan stood in the doorway as you laid the damp cloth on Hyunjin’s head. Two days had passed since the stabbing and you’d devoted all your time to helping Hyunjin—you figured it would be a good way to repay them for letting you stay here, and you were the most qualified to do so. Hyunjin wanted nothing more than to get back to work but his body simply refused. Exhaustion wracked his limbs when he was awake and every time he attempted to sit up, let alone stand, his head felt like a bowling ball and weighed him back down. He’d fallen asleep not long ago, before Chan came to check on him. You weren’t aware of the older’s presence until he spoke up, startling you into a flinch of fright.

“Thank you for doing this.”

You half-smiled at him, “it’s okay.”

The male sighed gently before walking into the room, the click of the door shutting behind him sliced through the room’s air. You felt his presence beside you as you refused to meet his gaze—he was far too intimidating even by just standing there, “I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this,” his voice was gentler than before. Soft, calm, genuine—he probably wouldn’t fit the stone cold stereotype set by Vito Corleone in The Godfather, “we’ll figure out a safer place for you to go, but, in the meantime, just let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. I truly am sorry that you got dragged into this.”

You turned your head in order to meet Chan’s gaze. It was soft, genuine, and almost broken. You got the feeling that he didn’t enter this lifestyle willingly, that he knew exactly what it was like to suddenly be affiliated with a lifestyle you had little to no prior knowledge about. Chan wasn’t here by choice, but he stuck by it. He followed through with what fate served him and he built an empire from it, he found a family to live through the darkest of days. You admired that more than he could know, ��I will. Thank you for what you’ve done.”

Chan didn’t voice it, but he saw your arrival as a potential opportunity. You were familiar with medicine and how to properly patch someone up after they receive a life-threatening injury. Rather than losing two fighters when someone is injured, surely it would be better to have a designated nurse who could stick to the job, instead of forcing Woojin to rush through life-saving surgery in order to make it back to a mission in time to drive everyone back to the house. Chan knew it was a desperate deal, stupid and selfish in all honesty, but your arrival could’ve been a long-term blessing in disguise. After all, Chan’s life had been largely riddled with bad luck, perhaps karma had finally taken mercy on him.

At least a month had passed since the incident—you really had no concept of time in this place—and Hyunjin was slowly, but surely, recovering with no sign of infection. You’d also seen his bare abdomen one too many times at this point since he insists on being shirtless―he avidly insists “it’ll be easier than fucking up my shirt.” Aside from monitoring his recovery and trying not to stare at his perfectly sculpted abdomen, you’d began to form a good bond with Hyunjin during your time together. You never talked to him until the incident, mainly because you never had a reason to leave the room you were staying in, and you couldn’t deny you were slightly mad with yourself for not conversing sooner. He was entertaining to talk to, a little bit of a drama queen sometimes, yet intelligent and open-minded. Hyunjin had a good mix of personality traits, you slightly envied him for such. Surely conversing with someone like yourself was bland and repetitive.

Of course it was unbeknownst to you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth; Hyunjin had taken an interest in you since you began caring for him. All he had known about you prior to your care was that you and Felix had been good friends for a while, you were studying at university, and your shit got rocked by someone you didn’t even know―it was an unfortunate turn to say the least. The fact it happened to you made Hyunjin curse the forces that caused it; there was no reason for you to be dragged into this kind of unforgiving, inescapable lifestyle when you had a heart of gold. He could vividly recall the conversation that prompted the revelation, it must’ve been two or more weeks into his recovery.

“I assume you study nursing or something, right?”

“Medical science, but close enough,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“Why medical science instead of becoming a doctor or something?”

“We all die one day, I’d rather help find a cure for something than force people to suffer through it slowly.”

Hyunjin hadn’t known how to respond to that, so he didn’t, but it resonated with him. The whole reason he’d joined the business, this kind of inescapable lifestyle, was to earn enough money to pay for better treatment for his mother. He got close, really damn close, but he just didn’t get there in time. The first non-business phone call he got was to inform him about his mother’s passing, he hadn’t received another since.

It was evident to Hyunjin, and every other member, that you were incredibly smart―a fact Felix would boast as if it was his own. Your skills, mainly in the science field, could come in useful to the gang: you had a good medical understanding, knew which chemicals could do harm or hinder a person momentarily. Chan was intrigued by your abilities and more than willing to take you on board, but no one ever joined without the approval of every member. Gaining such had been a difficult task, with Felix insisting that he didn’t want to see you hurt or in harm’s way―his mind quickly changed when Jeongin asked “wouldn’t it be just like a sleepover?” Hyunjin wasn’t as easy to persuade. He didn’t share the fact he was hesitant, but he didn’t need to. It was written all over his symmetrical face.

Truthfully, Hyunjin had grown a little too close to you during his recovery, obliviously until he had a startling epiphany. You were the last thing he saw when he fell asleep, the first thing he saw when he woke up. You cared for him more than yourself, it was evident in your under eye bags and weight loss ― to the point where he had refused to eat unless you were eating with him. When he looked at you, the evening sunset highlighting you perfectly and your hair unstyled, yet sitting neatly on your head, he knew he was in deep. Regarding his feelings, he had two concerns: whether you felt the same way, and whether Felix would be accepting of his feelings and approve him as a candidate for your love; he didn’t need the added possibility of you fucking dying to become the third concern. At the end of the day, he supposed it didn’t matter. Felix would never want anyone to hurt you, and even if he didn’t intend to, Hyunjin knew he would inevitably end up doing so.

When Chan proposed for you to join their gang, you were hesitant to say the least. For you, there was no desperate situation in which you needed cash quickly, no reason to put yourself in harm’s way. It was dangerous, Chan admitted that to your face, but he promised you consistent protection and a position that didn’t include staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Y/N, you’ve been here for four months already. How many times have you been hurt?”

You didn’t like his persuasiveness, or the fact he was right. Since you moved into their guest bedroom you’d felt safer, no longer feeling eyes follow you or whispers of your name in the middle of the night. There was a small part of you that wanted to decline the offer, return home to your apartment and never look in the eyes of Chan or Hyunjin ever again. Of course, that was only a small part of you. Although you hated to admit it, you knew you’d never be able to return to that apartment. Not without seeing the blood all over again, feeling the breath leave your lungs or hearing unexplainable noises elsewhere in the apartment. With a soft movement of your head, you agreed, “okay.”

Chan smiled with a strong nod, he was fond of you after all, as were the others in the group. It seemed that everyone was in support of the decision, especially your freckled friend who beamed as he exclaimed, “it’ll be like an eternal sleepover!”

“That sounds like a nightmare if you’re involved,” Seungmin deadpanned, but his stoic expression was quickly replaced by an amused smile at Felix’s pout. Though, everything wasn’t as it seemed. Hyunjin, as much as he wanted to be, wasn’t excited. You joining the gang ― regardless of whether you would be in the middle of the action ― meant seeing you everyday. Seeing you everyday meant realising how much he admired you. And admiring you meant he would only fall deeper. How could he tell anyone that, though? Such an objection would send a rift of embarrassment, discomfort, awkwardness through the house; everything would fall. There was no time for silly crushes. All he could do was admire you from afar and ache every time you walked away from him, completely oblivious to how he felt. When did he become so weak? Hyunjin didn’t like feeling vulnerable, and that’s exactly how you made him feel. With a soft sigh, he decided it would be better to just stay away.

It was a solid plan―for a month, until Hyunjin was injured again in a trade gone wrong. If he was being completely honest with himself, which he recently was not, the constant thought of you kept him from concentrating during the trade. He felt so out of it, blocking out the sounds of his non-biological brothers yelling as a bullet whizzed towards him. No, all he saw was the way you looked so ethereal in the light, the way you would always be just out of reach. All he could think about with you, there was no time to consider the scars being etched in his abdomen. Faintly, he could feel the burning in his chest, Chan’s arms dragging him away as bullets rang out from Changbin’s position on the roof. He didn’t register being put in the car, or Chan demanding he keep his eyes open with a hand pressed tightly against his chest. He could feel his feet dragging slightly as Chan and Woojin dragged him inside, the sight of Hyunjin’s pale face and bleeding chest forcing Seungmin, Minho and Jeongin to abandon their intense game of uno.

“Oh fuck, fuck, shit,” Chan and Woojin couldn’t find the time to scold Jeongin’s language, too concerned with the dying boy in their arms. Jeongin’s feet pounded up the stairs, throwing your door open and tugging you to the first aid room. The confusion on your features transformed to gut-wrenching worry as soon as you caught sight of Hyunjin, his shirt off and a cloth being stuffed in his mouth―you couldn’t tell whether it was Minho or Woojin who was holding him down while the other gathered the necessary equipment, everything seemed to blur as you jumped into action. You’d found someone willing to sell you, an unlicensed medical student, anesthesia, but it was due to arrive next week―just your luck. Chan’s hands clamped on Hyunjin’s legs, Seungmin turned away to avoid the gruesome sight, Jeongin lingered by the door.

“I’m sorry,” the words came out as a whisper as you took the scalpel from Woojin, slicing across where the bullet had entered. The entry hole was too small to get it out safety―who were you kidding, you weren’t even sure if you could get it out. The cloth only slightly muffled the pained groan Hyunjin let out, gosh, you wished that anesthesia could’ve come sooner. Screams of agony tore from his throat as tweezers worked to remove the bullet, the writhing of his legs causing anxiety to rise in your chest.

“Keep him still,” Woojin ordered. One sudden move and you’d live with the crushing guilt of knowing you let Hyunjin die. Hyunjin seemed to vaguely register Woojin’s words, opting to tense his muscles rather than squirm away from the pain. Seungmin covered his ears with a solemn expression while Jeongin looked away in discomfort, the shrill cries continuing. It was close, too close for your liking, to hitting Hyunjin in a fatal area or embedding deeply in his chest.

“I got it,” you mumbled as the bloody metal was dumped in the dish beside you. Woojin ushered everyone out of the room, Hyunjin’s screams of agony downgrading to groans.

“Give me a call if you need anything,” the oldest closed the door behind him. You heard the front door slam open and shut with frantic footsteps, marking the return of Felix, Changbin and Jisung. Words were calmly and indistinguishably spoken by Chan. Though, it didn’t matter what he was telling them, your priority was making sure Hyunjin wouldn’t cease breathing. His eyelids were fluttering shut from exhaustion, an action that would flare alarm in your chest.

“Please, don’t fall asleep.”

The cloth was removed from his mouth when it was over, your hand raking his hair away from his sweaty forehead, ridding of the uncomfortable sensation. A sigh passed your lips, voice soft as you spoke, “you need to stop making a habit out of this,” it was directed towards Hyunjin, but you weren’t sure he heard it.

Hyunjin wanted to respond, something flirty he could blame on his disorientation and pain, but you were already urging him to down some bottled water. As you cleaned the utensils, Hyunjin allowed his eyes to flutter closed, whispering a gentle “thank you, Y/N.”

Time passed without your acknowledgement; had it been weeks, months? It all blended together, you couldn’t be certain. Hyunjin was close to recovery, but not quite there. Frankly, you were getting tired of his occasional complaints about not “being in action”. Part of you hoped he’d stay out of action if it kept him safe, but you knew that wasn’t an option in this kind of lifestyle. The roots of his hair were coming through, the dirty blonde darkening to have a light brown tone instead. It was the little things that were becoming noticeable as you spent more time with him; the moles on his face, the way the sun seeped through the window and reflected so clearly in his eyes. He sat on what was referred to as the ‘operation table’―except it wasn’t padded and was likely meant for veterinarians―as you searched for mild pain medication. When you turned around, you couldn’t help but take a moment to admire him. His head was turned away from you, gazing wistfully out the window, the setting sun illuminating his honey skin in rays of golden sunshine. He looked like a statue from Greek mythology, sculpted by the Gods to embody perfection, frame marked with the scars of a warrior. They littered his abdomen, one from the stabbing, one from the bullet, one on his lower back that Woojin had patched up for him before you came ― it was obvious in the way it was majorly faded. A sigh passed the male’s plump lips, looking down at his fidgeting hands before looking up at you. If only you knew what he thought about you. How he felt you were incomparable, the finest piece of art to ever be masterfully painted. The oversized white shirt you wore contrasted your glowing skin and hung around your figure in an unfitted, yet still accentuating, manner. It wasn’t quite long enough to hide your blue pyjama shorts from sight. You approached him quietly, holding out the painkillers and a glass of water. Pulling yourself on the table, you sit beside Hyunjin as he downs the painkillers and watch the sunset. He glances over at you curiously, gulping down a mouthful of water, “you seem to be pretty good at saving lives, why aren’t you a doctor already?” A light laugh passed your lips.

“Because I’m not studying to become a doctor, and I haven’t spent, what? Nine years studying?”

“It takes nine years to become a doctor?” Hyunjin’s eyes almost bulged out of his skull. You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Something like that,” a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, watching as the sun swam closer to the horizon, “besides, I don’t think I’d be able to handle the pressure of saving someone’s life.”

A chuckle sounded from Hyunjin, “you say that, yet you’ve saved me from death twice.” You grew silent, he looked at you knowingly. The thought had never crossed your mind, you didn’t want to consider the possibility of Hyunjin dying―you didn’t want to imagine any of them dying, Hyunjin was the only one who’d come close so far.

“Yeah, but that’s… different.”

“How is it different?” Hyunjin looked towards you with a quirked eyebrow; you often wondered that too. You refused to look at him, too afraid of spilling all your secrets with one glance―but they came out in whispers, regardless.

“Because… I can’t live a life where you’re dead.”

The words almost slipped by him, blending in with the light breeze swirling outside, but he caught them. In one sentence, Hyunjin had the answers to every question that’d swarmed his brain since the week after his stabbing. There was no hesitation in his actions, cupping your left cheek in his hand and turning your face towards him. The sun glistened in your eyes, highlighting the enchanting colour of your orbs, shadows danced lightly on your face. In that moment, he wanted you to know that you wouldn’t lose him, no matter what. His eyes fluttered shut as his head dipped down, fulfilling the dream he’d chased since you first saved him. Your lips pressed together in a warm embrace, melting together as if they were made for each other. His tongue swiped at your lower lip, asking for access that you granted. As the sun rays of gold heated your skin and framed your soul, Hyunjin swore he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

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sloanerisette · 4 years

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Jyoumi Challenge Day #8: Royalty

Ok this one is on the shorter side, but I’m happy with how it turned out! I imagine this is set after Tri but before LEK, probably early college for Mimi/middle of college for Joe? This is just a cute little fluffy idea I thought of, hope you all enjoy!

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“Remember when I got to be a princess in a huge, beautiful castle?”

Her words, along with the dreamy, wistful sigh that fell from Mimi’s lips caught Joe’s attention, his eyes looking up from his textbook to her.

“…Yeah?” he finally said after a few moments. He watched her rest cheek on her hand, tracing circles on the page of her book which she was utterly ignoring.

“Wasn’t that wonderful? Oh, all those sweet Gekomon and Otamamon… that beautiful, soft bed, and all those amazing meals they made me… Oh I miss them so much!”

“And sending me to the dungeon?” he teased gently, which caused Mimi’s attention to immediately turn to him.

“Oh, Joe!” she pouted, eyes narrowed at her boyfriend, “I let you all out!”

“…After we spent a night in a dungeon.”

Damn him and the fact that he was right.

“But, as the sweet princess I was and am, I let you all out!” she insisted yet again, Joe holding his hands up.

“I know you are and I know you did! I was just teasing you!” he told her quickly, words tumbling from his tongue as he tried to gauge her expression to ready himself for just what Mimi he would be dealing with in particular.

“Well I was just trying to reminisce about the days where I got to be a princess! Is that so wrong to want?” she asked, and Joe shook his head.

“Of course not, like I said, I was just teasing.”

She stayed quiet for a moment, lower lip pouting, before she finally smiled.

“Fiiiiiine, I guess I won’t toss you in the dungeon this time,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. Joe let out a nervous laugh, blushing slightly, which Mimi couldn’t help but laugh at.

“I wouldn’t mind being a princess in the Digital World again, though,” she said, pausing for a beat as she eyed her boyfriend, “Minus the throwing you in the dungeon part, of course.”

He smiled, “Well, I appreciate that, Princess Mimi.”

A wide smile crossed her face, eyes bright.

“Of course! I could never throw my prince in the dungeon,” she said sweetly, her words making him blush brighter than he was moments ago. He started to stutter, ducking his head back to his textbook.

“Joe?” she cooed softly, aiming to get his attention, though Joe, still embarrassed, had his eyes glued to his textbook, not even paying attention to the words on it, hoping to gather himself, but fruitless in the effort.

“…Joe?”

She spoke a few moments after she called his name the first time, reaching out to take his chin in her hand, gently moving his head so he would look up at her.

“Honey?”

“Y-Yeah?” he asked, gulping hard, though a touch of confusion graced Mimi’s features.

“Why do you always get so flustered when I compliment you?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“I mean… I don’t know. I just wanted to give you a compliment…” he said quietly.

“Well I just wanted to give you a compliment, too. But thanks, it always makes my day when you say stuff like that,” she said, reaching her hand out to let it rest on his.

“Plus I don’t think I’m much of a princess right now,” she sighed, “Or not like I was with that beautiful dress and the tiara.”

Joe frowned slightly, shaking his head gently, “Of course you are. You’re always a princess to me,” he told her.

“Joe…” she said quietly, unable to suppress the smile on her face.

“Come on, it can’t be that hard to believe I’d think that,” he chuckled.

“It just… really makes me happy,” she told him, voice still soft, heart filled to just about bursting.

“I’m glad. Whenever you’re happy, I’m happy.”

What she wouldn’t give to lean over this table and give him a big kiss right then and there.

“…Can I tell you something?” he asked, which caused her to stir from her thoughts.

“Of course!” she chirped happily.

“…When we found you in that castle and I saw you in that whole princess outfit… I think that’s part of what made me get a crush on you…”

She blinked a few times, then tilted her head, “Really?”

He nodded sheepishly, “Yeah. I mean, obviously most of it came from our second trip into the Digital World, but I just… thought you were really beautiful.”

The look on her face was nothing short of awestruck, and unable to contain herself anymore, did exactly what she was thinking moments ago, and stood up, leaning over the table to plant a long kiss on his lips. Joe was taken aback, bright red yet again, silent from the sudden shock of what his girlfriend did.

“Did you—”

“Yes.”

He stayed silent again for a few moments, hoping to gain his composure.

“And before you inevitably ask, its because I wanted to,” she told him sweetly, batting her eyes at him.

He swallowed hard and then slowly nodded, “Ok. Ok.” He cleared his throat, “When I said you’re always going to be a princess, I did mean it.”

She smiled, “And you’ll always be my prince,” she said, before closing her textbook, “Now, does the prince want to get dinner with his princess?” she asked and Joe chuckled softly.

“Of course,” he told her, starting to pack his things away, taking her book and holding it for her, waiting for her to get ready, the two heading out of the library.

“Aaaaaaand maybe the princess can get some help with her Calculus homework after?” she asked sweetly.

“I would be happy to help, Princess Mimi.”

#jyoumi challenge #digimon #digimon adventure #jyoumi #joe kido #mimi tachikawa #jyou kido #kido jyou #tachikawa mimi

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smellycinnamonthundahfudge · 4 years

Text

here we are, folks, mama's gonna write another one of these things so sit down and enjoy some post-hoco peter starts to fall for mj shits

sigh why do i even bother

Caught Stealing

Peter likes to think he's been doing pretty good at this whole superhero thing for quite a while now; saving people, giving directions, catching thieves. Things have been going pretty great.

But the one thief he didn't expect to show up on his radar was one that didn't even show up when he was in spidey-mode, oh no, this one showed up when he was regular ol' peter parker for crying out loud. Just one day at another one of these acadec meetings, Peter Parker saw MJ try to steal a glance at him while he was on a call with Happy, and his brain was left on buffer for the rest of the call, the meeting, and pretty much the entire week after.

"Hey, Ned, hav you ever seen MJ like... look at me?" Peter asks Ned in the cafeteria while MJ wasn't there yet (he's brave enough to go through flames with a broken leg to save Liz's supervillain dad but hell if he's brave enough to talk about a potential crush just mere feet near said crush).

"Yes," answered Ned without even looking, and just continued eating his tuna sandwich lunch.

"What!?" Peter exclaims slightly loudly making him take a look around him to see if anyone (MJ) might have noticed. To his relief, no one did what with all the conversations happening in the cafeteria and MJ still wasn't there. "When were you going to tell me?"

Ned swallows the bite he just took, "I thought you did know."

"Well, clearly I didn't. I've been pretty busy with ~something~ as you know."

"Pfftt yeah and you were also crushing pretty hard on Liz if I can also recall."

"Okay, okay fine whatever, we've already established I've been busy. I just- how long have you known? Or how long have you noticed it was going on?"

"You seriously haven't noticed?" Ned asks genuinely a bit shocked that Peter didn't know.

"Dude, I'm telling you I haven't-" Peter repeats for the nth time, frustrated he still doesn't know how long this has been going on. "How long?"

Ned lets out a chuckle of disbelief, "Pretty much since halfway through freshman year, bro. Wow, I can't believe you really haven't noticed. Some Peter-tingle you've got there."

Peter lets out a huff of frustration, "It doesn't work that way. And ugh can you please not call it the Peter-tingle? I already get enough of that from Aunt May."

Ned turns his hands up in defeat and just proceeds to continue eating his lunch again.

"I can't believe this, has it really been going on for that-"

"Hey, losers," MJ greets to their table, finally showing up to their usual spot.

"MJ!" Peter almost shouts from shock. Man, Ned might be right, his (ugh) Peter-tingle just wasn't working right now.

MJ snorts from Peter's reaction, "Yes, Peter, it is me, MJ, the girl who's been sitting next to you guys for the better part of a year now,' MJ mock explains. "You doing okay there, Pete?" MJ asks finally taking a seat.

"Yeah, yeah, just a bit jumpy, I guess..."

"Alright, whatever. What can't you believe has been going on for that long?"

"What?"

"When I got here, you were saying you can't believe it's been going on for that long. What has?"

Peter looks to Ned in a panic and he blurts out "Spiders!" in response, making Peter face palm himself on the table.

"Spiders?" MJ still asks, being what Ned said did nothing to explain anything.

"Yeah... Peter's had this really intense phobia of them ever since we went on that fieldtrip. He accidentally slipped in the bathroom this morning cause he saw a spider and he couldn't believe he still hasn't gotten over his phobia," Ned explains lies so casually, but by the end of it sighs and gives Peter a not really that subtle thumbs up.

Peter on the other hand is semi-frustrated over having to lie to MJ about TWO things in his life now and the fact that his best friend just made him seem like a scaredy cat that actually slips in the bathroom from seeing a spider. His frustration doesn't last though cause he's just waiting to see if MJ actually buys Ned's load of spider phobia bs.

"Oh, okay-" MJ thinks about how they were probably talking about spider-man things before she came but decides to just go along with their excuse and thinks about a possible cause of the phobia on the very highly unlikely (at least in her opinion) chance that Ned was actually telling the truth, remembering Peter's uncle dying just a few weeks after the fieldtrip and feeling bad for Pete so she offers up a solution or maybe just something to comfort him.

"You know, they say that to get rid of a phobia, exposure therapy works, so maybe it'll make you feel better to know that humans swallow up to like 10 spiders in an entire year," MJ jokes a bit awkwardly and pointedly that she just proceeded to eat her meal after finishing her sentence.

It makes Peter chuckle for a bit though so MJ releases that breath she didn't know she was holding and continues to avert her eyes to her meal and just continue eating.

"Wow, MJ yeah sure, nothing'll make me feel better like knowing there's probably like hundreds of tiny spiders inside me right now," Peter remarks sarcastically making MJ laugh as he fake shivers.

"Glad I could help," MJ winks and then averts her eyes again to get her book so she could read while eating, signalling she was ready for this convo to end (she wasn't going to be able to talk after what she can't believe she just did).

And Peter's kinda glad she does end it because holy sh- did, did MJ really just wink at him right now? Did that just happen?

Peter looks to Ned for confirmation who could only shrug in response being just as unsure about what to make of it as well.

Wondering what the hell just happened is the last thought circling inside Peter's brain while Ned just changes the subject to something else that didn't even register to Peter.

MJ may actually ACTUALLY like him, and Peter doesn't have a single clue what to do about it.

Nothing as it turns out, cause as the rest of the week passes without fanfare, it seems like Peter's finally regaining his sanity again as he thinks that maybe MJ looking at him was just MJ being MJ and he goes back to thinking of MJ as his friend and not the smart funny pretty girl who might have a crush on him, which she doesn't.

Until, yet again, Happy interrupts Peter at this week's acadec meeting and he steps outside to take the call.

"What, Happy? I told you I was busy during saturdays with acadec, what do you want?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know I was talking to Mr. Bigshot here. You know, I started on Stark Industries as a dri-"

And with that, Peter just proceeded to wince and hit himself with his phone, knowing he just made this phone call twice as long as what it probably would have been. He starts to just block out what Happy is saying and takes a peek at what he's missing at acadec.

Flash is asleep at the sidelines, must have been that party Peter saw he was having posted and streamed all over social media, it was so annoying. Ned, Cindy, Sally, and Abe were all on a roll tossing out answers back to back, Eddie was blanking and swearing the answer was at the tip of his tongue, and MJ as usual, was running the drills.

Yet again, Peter was thinking about how wonky his brain must have been to actually think that MJ, don't give an f what anyone thinks acadec team cap MJ, actually liked him.

But it seemed Peter must have been staring for too long because MJ noticed and glanced at him too, making Peter panic and immediately avert his eyes to a different direction, any direction at that. God, why was he this awkward?

But god help Peter Parker who must just be an awkwardness masochist because he couldn't help but just sneak a peek once again, only to see MJ was still looking at him and he must have had some ridiculous shocked expression on his face because the slightest grin started to appear on MJ's face and she looked away with almost- was that- A BLUSH?? a blushing expression on her face??? did that? she just? whattttt????

But before Peter could even get himself together, MJ looked back at him again only to grin over the fact Peter was still looking at her and roll her eyes over how ridiculous this wordless convo they were having across the room was, that she just snickered and gave a silent hi and subtle wave hidden from their team mates just below the podium.

Peter found himself grinning like an idiot too and could only give one awestruck wave which made MJ snicker and avert her eyes back to their team mates with a barely noticable flush on her face and a blink and you'll miss it, moment where MJ had to think about what she was saying before she and Peter began this cutely wordless reparte across the room.

MJ had to think about what she was going to say. Cool, suave, witty retorts and comebacks MJ seemed to have a moment of speechlessness.

okay.

And so as Peter could only hear a faint "Peter? Peter, are you still listening to me?" from his phone, he knew that he was absolutely, one hundred percent without a single doubt in his mind, truly, and utterly, fucked.

Maybe MJ wasn't the only one who had a crush.

heeyy yooeesss i missed writing mah anxious boi's pov yallssss. i miss writing for them in general huhu. also im probs gonna write a bunch more of these how they fell for each other fics cus i think this version of em/phase of their relationship is pretty underrated hehe

plus i still cant get over ffh pj disapproval so fine i'll just write the middle man fics myself then. it's just so easy to see how pete could fall for mj, i just cant

toot toot and i hope yalls enjoyed dis folks. it's good to be back. rlly missed em, ya know?

#spideychelle #<3 #peter parker #michelle jones #spideychelle is canon bitches #spideychelle is canon

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peterthepark · 5 years

Note

Oh my gosh could you maybe do a Steve harrington x teen mom reader please and thank you

yes ofc! thanks for requesting!

Crazy For You

steve harrington x teen mom! reader

Steve Harrington was nothing but supportive. His heart was made out of gold, handcrafted by the very finest material. You knew he didn’t have a single bad bone in his body, unless someone were to mess with the people he loved. You were hopelessly in love with him. He and his perfect hair had swooned you the first time you had seen him, slinging ice cream scoops onto waffle cones. Steve knew everything about you - except one thing.

You had a kid. Aiden was the secret that you hated keeping from him. You didn’t know why you were fearful of Steve’s reaction. Then again, you had been hiding Aiden from him for months on end. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your 4-year old son, but it was out of fear - fear that Steve would leave you. Being a teen mom was far from easy. So, when Steve Harrington had showed up to your house unexpectedly one Saturday morning, you were not happy.

“Steve?” You breathe out. No, why was he here? You keep the door closed at an angle, your body blocking him from seeing anything inside. “W-what are you doing here?” You tap your foot anxiously.

Steve takes in your frazzled and panicked state. “I... do you not remember?” He chuckles nervously. “You invited me over. Yesterday. You said come over for breakfast tomorrow.”

“I did not.” You laugh, shaking your head as you glance back inside your house.

“You did.” Steve tries to push past you, but you push the door into him. “Ow!” He winces, rubbing his shoulder with a pout.

“I did not invite you, Harrington!” You huffed at him. Steve raises his eyebrows at you accusingly, but a loving smile rests among the corners of his lips. “Or did I?”

“Y/N!” He booms out into hysteric laughter. His hand trails down the side of his face before he gestures at you. “Okay, okay, you know what? I’ll even cook breakfast for the both of us-“

“Nope! Nope! The house is a mess! And my parents are still asleep and I don’t want to wake them up! Let’s just do this another day, bubs.” You frown at him. He really wasn’t buying it.

Steve’s shoulders slump over. He puckers his bottom lip at you. You mock him, copying his actions. He leans his arm against the doorframe and leans over to kiss you. But that was your mistake.

Steve easily pushes past you, and your eyes are nearly bulging out of your skull as he takes in the state of your home. It’s a warzone: colorful toys are scattered everywhere, fairytale books sit in piles by the kitchen, and stuffed animals litter the rug of your living room.

“Wha... you never told me you were babysitting?” Steve turned to look at you, hands on his hips.

“Ma!” A little voice from the top of the stairs croaked out. You’re going to piss yourself. You stand frozen, watching as the little boy - that resembles you a little too much - run down the stairs, stumbling as he throws himself at your leg. “G’morning, ma.” He blinks up at you, mouth covered in dry toothpaste.

“Morning, my baby.” You say, but you’re staring at Steve with watery eyes. Your boyfriend, being the dork with one braincell, looks utterly confused. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are narrowed in thought.

“Ma?” Steve repeats. His finger points from Aiden to you, then back again. He starts to stutter, “So - he - that’s... but like - Ma?” Steve pulls and tugs at his brown locks, starting to pace around the room in quiet thought.

This is the part. This is the part where Steve leaves. This is the part where Steve starts to despise you.

“Hi, mister.” Aiden perks up, tugging at Steve’s jacket. “I’m Aiden.” Your son is still clutching at your leg, shyly looking up. You can’t look at Steve, so your eyes remain trained on the stain of chocolate milk on your carpet. Tears fall from your cheeks and you sniffle as Steve calls your name.

“Y/N?” He places a hand on your cheek, thumb swiping away the stray tears. You close your eyes at his touch. His voice is so gentle and calm that you sob into his hand. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. Shhh...” He soothes you, rubbing his back. Aiden runs off into the kitchen, which gives you time to explain the situation to Steve. You might as well rip the bandaid. You could only hope that it would be painless.

“Steve, that’s Aiden.” He’s nodding, leaning you up against the back of your leather couch. “He’s my son.” You crack a smile through your sadness. Steve lets out a long exhale, nodding his head with wide eyes. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s selfish and stupid and I was terrified that you would leave. Everyone leaves.”

Steve locks eyes with you. He presses his lips to your forehead, whispering against your soft skin, “It’s alright. I don’t care that you didn’t tell me sooner. I’m just...” He sighs. “I’m glad you told me at all.”

“You’re... you aren’t mad?” Steve shakes his head, glancing at Aiden in the kitchen with an awestruck smile. “I get if you wanna go, though. If it’s too much.” You wipe your eyes, biting your lip out of nerves.

“It’s not a problem for me, angel. I love you. I think you’re so brave for telling me. I’m... yeah, I’m a little shocked. Well, I guess that’s the understatement of the century, but I’m really shocked. But - but it’s a good shock, yeah? It’s nothing bad-“ You giggle at his rambling, nuzzling your head into his shoulder. Steve breaks the short silence. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, okay? I’ve loved you more than anyone. I’m literally crazy for you. And - and Aiden is part of your life. And I’ll love him, too. I can already tell how much of a good kid he is.” He states, peppering you with kisses. “And you know what else? I’m a pretty good damn babysitter so if anything, I got you covered, Y/N. Like seriously.” He traces your jaw with his finger, looking at you lovingly. “You need anything, and I’m here. One hundred percent of me.”

“Thank you, Steve. You’re perfect.” You kiss him. “I love you, too.” Aiden pops back into the room, a juice box in hand and a cookie in the other.

“Mister! Mister! Do you wanna play airplane with me?” He grins at your boyfriend with excitement.

Steve looks over to you for approval, and you nod rapidly. He crouches down, resting his arms on top of his kneecaps. “You can call me Steve, Aiden. I’m a friend of your mommy.” He boops Aiden’s nose, exchanging bubbly laughter. “And why yes! We can certainly play airplane!”

Aiden hoots in playful joy, passing you his cookie and juice box as he hops onto Steve’s back. You watch with adoration as Steve zooms all over your living room with arms outstretched as your son hangs onto him - airplane sounds and everything. Steve meets your gaze, winking at you as he slings Aiden over his shoulder and plops him gently onto the couch. He tickles him mercilessly, shouting as Aiden tackles him softly to the floor.

Steve really did love you. And he was starting to love your son even more.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #steve harrington headcanon #stranger things fanfiction #x reader

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boyfriend-cal · 5 years

Note

Hello, I just came across your page and I love your work! I was wondering if you did do a Calum Hood x reader where the reader is a photographer and Calum sees her photographing a model as he's walking by and he's really smitten and intrigued by her, and maybe asks her on a date? If you can't do it it's ok , thank you so much! 🌼💕

thanks for your request!! I hope you like it, but if you don’t let me know and I can try again 😊

(friendly reminder: taglist, masterlist, request)

word count: 1.3k

You went into today feeling great. You had a model that you’d previously worked with and usually that made things go way smoother. However, once you arrived on set, you realized that fate was not on your side today. The lens you usually relied on most had fallen out of your bag, and the clip broke, so it wouldn’t even attach to your camera anymore. Then, you noticed that your extra battery hadn’t been charging all night like you’d thought, so that was just great.

If you hadn’t previously known the girl you were shooting, she would’ve thought that you were utterly unprofessional. Instead, she patiently waited while you scrambled to make things work. There was a café across the street from the park, and the young barista graciously offered to charge your battery in the back until the first one died.

The lens thing wasn’t the end of the world, you could just get more close-ups than you were planning or use your wider lens with higher zoom. Finally, an hour after you’re supposed to start, you’re ready to go. The park had been noticeably emptier when you arrived, so you’d have to do more editing to get good shots, but that wasn’t the worst thing that had happened so far.

Once you started taking pictures, you got into your zone, and you were feeling good again. Your model was absolutely breathtaking. She was a dancer, so naturally, people started gathering behind you to watch her as she leaped and bounded. She was feeding off of being everyone’s center of attention.

Well, almost everyone.

Calum was watching from afar. He thought the model was fantastic, but you were the one who caught his eye first. Despite the crowd you two had drawn, you were just as much in your element as you were when you started. You maneuvered through the people well even though Calum thought that’d be annoying to anyone else. When your hair fell into your face, you blew it upwards and kept going.

He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. In fact, he found himself smiling with you when you got a good shot and lowered the camera to give encouragement to your model. Calum never once could tell that you’d had a rough start.

Calum was perched on a bench not too far away but out of sight to you. He didn’t want to leave, but he had plans with Ashton in twenty minutes. Calum nervously tapped his feet against the concrete. He really wanted to stay.

The loud sound of your laugh pulled him out of his thoughts. It was like all of the people crowding around you had been muted because you were all he could hear. The sound was music to his ears, and he decided that Ashton could wait. Calum stood up abruptly and took a few steps away. Ashton isn’t that upset, but Calum promises to make it up to him soon.

When he turns back around, you’re gone. The crowd has already started to disperse, and Calum’s eyes widen. Did he miss his chance? He feels panicked even though he doesn't know you.

Calum makes his way down to the fountain where you had set up, but even all of the camera equipment is gone. He tries to listen to the conversations around him, but no one seems to be talking about it anymore. It’s like you weren’t ever there to begin with. There’s no way he imagined all of that.

His shoulders slump a bit as he takes a seat on the edge of the fountain. A sigh leaves his lips. There was something about you that really intrigued him. His mood went from high to low in a matter of minutes.

Just as he’s about to call Ashton and ask if they can still hang out he sees you. You’ve just exited the coffee shop across the street. Your model has changed into pointe shoes, and it looks like you’re both heading right towards him.

Calum tries to think of something he can say to start a conversation, but his mind comes up blank. Five minutes ago, he was ready to ask you on a date, and now he can’t even say two words.

“Hey, do you mind moving so we can take some pictures in the fountain?” You ask politely. The man sitting in front of you is cute. Despite looking at you like he’s just been asked to solve a complicated math problem, his long curls and brown eyes are charming.

“Hello?” You say, wondering why he hadn’t answered yet. He blinks a few times before he opens and then shuts his mouth.

“What?” Calum stutters, he thought you were beautiful from far away and now that you’re right in front of him he’s even more awestruck.

“We were going to take pictures in the fountain, so unless you want to be a model for today we kind of need you to move.” You give him a small smile, and he looks from you to your model and then back to you. It’s humoring.

“Oh, I don’t think- Yeah, I’ll move. Sorry.” Calum quickly stands and steps out of the way. He hesitates for a moment, but you’ve already directed the dancer where to go, so he decides it’s time to get out of the way.

Calum takes his spot back on the bench he started on. He waits another forty-five minutes. Occasionally he looks up to see if you’re still there, but he doesn’t watch as intently as he did before because now that you’ve seen him it might be weird. He doesn’t notice that your eyes have wandered to him more than a couple of times. If you weren’t working, you probably would’ve asked him his name or tried to start a conversation.

Calum pretty much jumps up when he notices that you’re starting to pack up your things. You took your time, hoping he’d come back over, and slowly, he does.

You turn around to head to your car when he’s standing right behind you. “Oh, hey, again.”

Even though his hearts pounding, he smiles,” Hey, I’m Calum. I just noticed that you seem to really love what you do. It was refreshing to watch.”

The smile that spreads across your face makes Calums hands sweaty. He can’t believe he feels this way about someone he’s said maybe thirty words to. It’s like a high school crush even though he’s been out of high school for a long time.

“That’s so kind of you, thank you. Do you do any modeling?” You zip up your last bag and sling it over your shoulder. Calum visibly blushes, but he’s shocked.

“Oh wait, I meant like because you seem like a person that knows a few things about photography. Like I could’ve had a simple smile on my face the whole time, and someone would’ve thought I loved it when I was just polite. I didn’t mean it as a compliment.” There’s a brief pause in her words.

“Damn it, I do think you’re attractive, and you’re definitely model material, but obviously I keep making a fool of myself. Maybe I should go.” You take a step to the side, so he’s not in your path anymore, but he gently reaches a hand out and rests it on your arm.

“I’m in a band, so I guess we do some modeling for the artwork of albums and things like that. Actually, I originally came over to ask you out on a date. Are you free now?”

You look at this gorgeous boy in front of you. He’s hoping you don’t reject him probably, but you’d be stupid to. He knows a thing or two about cameras so you’re sure that you two would have some things in common.

“I have another client for a sunset photoshoot, but it’s only one, so I think I’ve got a little bit.” You quirk your lip up a little bit as if to tease him. “My name is Y/N.”

Calum holds out an arm like a goof, but you take it willingly. He’s never been so glad that he canceled plans and trusted his gut.

like or reblog if you liked it or want to save! feedback is always appreciated 💞

taglist: @calumsnatchedmyheart @mikeyglifford @cthoodsthetic @aulxna @sebastian-sunshine-stan @calssunflower @fluffsshawn

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theguildedtypewriter · 4 years

Note

Hello and happy Smut Sunday! What were your OC's first sexual experiences like?

Hey!

Sorry, this is a day late, but my weekends are usually filled with chasing after the baby.

Anyway, there are two first times that I’ve actually written down. One is the first for Hope when she’s with Ciaran. And the other, which is far less romantic, is the first time Red is approached for this as a part of her clan’s traditions, but thankfully she escapes it. She does go on to have her first sexual experience with a dear friend who she knows she’ll never see again.

Here’s Hope and Ciaran’s:

Ciaran’s eyes were wide. He was frozen as Hope’s lips pressed against his. Nothing in all his life could’ve prepared him for the sensation that ricocheted through his body. He was sure he’d been electrocuted. The sharp, warm snap inside him was breathing fire through his veins and pumping it back into the core of his heart. Something, although he didn’t know exactly what, had changed in him forever, and the light, breathy touches from Hope weren’t even close to enough.

He knew this was going to happen. Ever since the bathroom, Ciaran’s brain had been trying to tell him that if he got close to Hope, he was going to lose it. He’d been alright, for like a second. But then she touched him, pressed herself to him, and it was all over.

It was just too weird, though. He never felt aroused, not for so long, not after Marcus. God, he couldn’t think of that. How did this happen? He barely let Dimitri in, but here he was letting a woman he met less than a day ago make him feel… He didn’t know. Alive? Yeah, he felt alive for the first time in a long while. Hope got under his skin and wasn’t leaving, but how? The only thing that ever got his attention was the dream. God, that’s it. She’s real and here. At least, I hope so. Oh, Jesus, do not let me wake up.

His erection strained inside his jeans and demanded to be inside of Hope, now. His heart thundered like he was running a marathon, and his grip on Hope tightened.

Ciaran cursed to himself, “Hope, I want, no, need to be inside ye.”

He pulled her closer, the feeling of her soft breasts against his chest sending shock waves down his groin. He kissed Hope more, and she let his tongue dart inside of her. He stroked her tongue with his own and on every withdrawal nibbled at her plump bottom lip. Damn, he needed her so bad. It was nothing he’d ever felt before, and his head swam as image after image flooded his lust-crazed brain. The moan that escaped her lips between frantic kisses made him shiver. It was throaty and deep, and he felt her fingers dig into his shoulders.

Ciaran all but tackled her. He tried to cushion her fall to the floor with one arm and held his weight with the other. Her hair fell in a silky wave to cover. The graze in his side burned. Was he was hurting her? Fear tickled at Ciaran’s spine.

Hope reached up, pulling him down to her mouth. The sweet taste and smell of her overwhelmed his senses. She let his hips push her legs apart and the hard length trapped in his pants pressed against her. So much for hurting her.

“Ciaran…” Hope’s voice was barely a whisper and they continued to explore each other’s mouths. She was holding him tight against her body, breathing hard. The sight of her breasts moving up and down made his hand move on its own. He let his fingers press lightly, as he dragged them down the side of her neck to take her seductive breast in his hand and squeeze. Hope arched and ground her hips against his. He pushed away the fabric caging her and tore the flimsy bra free.

“Fuck…” Ciaran groaned.

With the lace gone, more of Hope’s perfect body was revealed, and it shot his arousal through the goddamn roof. The rosy, pink of her nipples would have been enough to ensnare him, but the icing on this particularly delicious cake was the gleaming metal beads that danced on either side of them. He’d never thought about pierced nipples, and now, he was obsessed. Ciaran had to have them in his mouth. To touch and play with the sinful, little beads that hugged the tips of her perfect breasts, which barely fit in his hand.

“Oh, Hope, please, please let me kiss ye here,” Ciaran squeezed again, and Hope’s released a sweet moan, “Please, Hope, say it.”

He had to hear her. He had to know she wanted this. He couldn’t force her. No one should have to do shite they do’na wanna. Should’na have… oh, god, get out of yer head.

“Yes, oh, god, yessss.” Good.

Ciaran wanted to entice those sounds out of her over and over. He looked up at Hope as he licked one gloriously hard nipple. She was arched up off the floor, eyes closed tight, and gasping. It was the most sensual thing he’d ever seen. Ciaran wanted more. He wanted to taste all of her, every inch of flesh and every sweet drop of honey.

The dress was off with barely an effort, and when he saw Hope’s skin in all its tattooed, pale glory, Ciaran nearly came.

The artwork, which was one continuous tattoo, weaved all across her breathtaking body. It curved around the top of her shoulders to the inside of her arms and down to her fingers. He’d seen those, but the sweeping section that curved around her ribcage and down her flat stomach was new.

The tattoo accentuated the sensuous curve of her breasts, scooping under them and meeting at her sternum, then jutting down to her navel. The black line traveled straight down to the front of her stomach to the top of her pelvis only to teasingly split again and run down the outside of her legs. And she sparkled everywhere, a jewel encrusted in each shoulder and hip.

Did he dare venture where that tattoo feared to go? Fuck, yes, he did. With a hand still grabbing one of Hope’s full breasts, he kissed his way down to her hips. Her alabaster flesh was framed in dark hair. Hope’s sweet, intoxicating smell was all around him and he hungered to taste the honeyed flesh of her core.

“Hope. I have to.”

“Wha—”

The question deserted her as the tip of his tongue licked gently at her clit and Holy Lord, the taste of her. Ciaran would never get enough. She was sweet, rich, and blazingly hot. He welcomed the scratches of her nails, as she grabbed his shoulders. As he sucked and pulled her into his mouth, it was like he was drinking molten gold.

“I should…”

Hope was trying to speak, but Ciaran was enjoying himself far too much. He flicked his tongue across that magic place and began to drag his hand up toward his mouth. With one long lick across her, Ciaran let his fingers join the fun. Her core was weeping and so ready for the orgasm lingering just around the corner. She was tight around his fingers and blissfully warm.

As Ciaran pushed in and out of her, Hope bucked off the floor. She clawed at his shoulders and grabbed his hair. Hope was so close, so ready to release all that built-up tension. Ciaran was beside himself, the joy of making her orgasm lit him up from the inside. When she cried out his name, he nearly lost it. But Ciaran had to be inside her when he came.

The surge of her muscles around his hand was incredible. Ciaran watched awestruck as he pushed her over the edge and made her come over and over. When he finally released her, she was drenched and gasping. The erotic taste of her slid down his throat and stirred his hunger. In all of two seconds, his pants and boxers were off and left under the counter. In the brief moment Ciaran wasn’t closed in around Hope, she sat up.

“Ciaran, holy fuck… I really should… tell you…” Hope was trying to speak between breaths, and he pulled her close.

“What? What is it?” He kissed her neck as he spoke.

“I’ve, oh god, I’ve never… I’ve never done this.”

“Neither have I. I promise I do’na make a habit of takin’ girls back to me place.” Ciaran continued kissing and nibbling at the side of Hope’s neck and let his hand run down her body to her breast. He gently pinched her nipple ring and breathed her in.

“Ugh. I… No, Ciaran that’s not what I mean. I’ve never, well, I’ve never, umm, had sex.” Hope stilled in his arms.

Ciaran shook his head. He must have heard wrong. How could someone as utterly sexual and stunning as Hope have never done this? But she was still frozen in his arms, and when he looked at her face she was staring at the ground.

“What? Oh, me god, I’m so sorry, I did’na—”

“No, don’t be sorry. I still want to. I really, really do. I just wanted you to know. And I guess, I wanted to… know what this was going to be like,” She stared up at him, her fierce eyes showing a hint of embarrassment, “Never really had a sex talk.”

Ciaran was speechless. What the hell was the right thing to say? God, should he even be doing this? But at the thought of someone else, some other man, being the one to do this with her made him think seriously of finding said man and driving his head through a wall.

“Hope, we do’na have to do this. I can’na lie to ye, I really wanna. Sittin’ here next to ye, so verra naked and not devourin' ye, is takin’ some serious strength of will. But, ye have to wanna.”

Hope’s eyes seemed to search his, like she was looking for something to make her decision, and Ciaran tried to show everything his words couldn’t. Unfortunately, his thoughts started to swirl in his head again, and he was trapped in a game of chicken with the past. Ciaran could almost feel himself fracture down the middle.

Half of him wanted Hope so bad he’d be willing to chop off his leg to get close to her, but another half wanted to shake with all the cool of a fucking “fraidy cat” child in the dark. It was panicked someone was close enough to see all of him and take what they wanted.

But Hope wasn’t taking. She looked at him and gave him control over the situation. This could be good. I’m in control. I can stop or go, whenever I want.

“I want this.” Hope leaned in offering herself to him.

Ciaran pulled her close, and he felt the hard tips of her breasts touch his bare chest and every bit of him began to relax, the screaming desire moving back to its rightful place at the front of his mind. This beautiful demon was the single sexiest woman on the planet, in the whole fucking universe, and she wanted him.

“Alright, then. I do feel I should tell ye, it can hurt at first, for women, if we go too fast. I’ll be slow.”

“Okay. Now, please, Ciaran,” Hope’s voice burned, and he almost wanted to ask her to just say his name over and over.

But the moment she touched him again, his skin was on fire. With surprising strength, she pulled him down to her mouth and on top of her. Her knees fell easily to the side, and she attacked his neck with kisses and nibbles. Ciaran was hard enough to cut a diamond.

But, he couldn’t be aggressive. Ciaran focused on the feel of her lips. As he looked down at Hope, the tension inside reached epic proportions, again. Her wavy hair with its white streak was tousled and wild. Her lips were swollen and red, her pale flesh bathed in a euphoric glow. He slid a hand down to the hot, wet center waiting for him. She was drenched in magnificent, sugared honey.

Hope moaned, and Ciaran worked his fingers. Hope was panting again and pressed herself against Ciaran’s hard working hand. She groaned and cursed, pulling at his arm close to her face. She turned and bit into his forearm and the release poised at her core finally burst out. He was straining against the unbelievable desire to slam into her, but as she pulled him closer, the tip of his erection slid teasingly across her.

Ciaran shuddered at the heat between Hope’s legs, and he gave in. He gripped Hope’s hip with one hand, as she continued to bite his other arm and slowly began to sheathe himself. Hope was tight around him, and the delicious wetness created an incredible friction.

He felt her grip tighten around his forearm, “Are ye okay?”

“Yes. Don’t stop.” Hope grumbled the words around biting her lip.

Ciaran continued to move back and forth inside her. She squeezed around him. Hope let out a shattering cry and ripped into Ciaran’s skin with her nails. The sensation was tremendous, an elixir of pleasure and slight pain. Hope stared up at him, and as their eyes met. Ciaran found his favorite look in the world. She was completely blissed out.

Her long, graceful legs fell further open, and she took every thrust of him. Ciaran squeezed her hip tight, anchoring himself, as he pushed deeper and deeper. Hope arched back, as orgasm after orgasm rocketed through her. Each one made the fierce muscles inside her clench his shaft and brought him closer to his own release. Every inch of Ciaran’s body was burning. The magnificent, crushing pressure poised in his erection transformed him, the weights beneath it pulling up tight and exciting the animal in him.

The roar that rumbled out of his chest was unadulterated, primal lust. A demand to possess Hope and give her everything he had to offer in return. Hope screamed out through smiles. Her voice covered Ciaran in another sweet layer of desire, the ecstasy bursting from her called for more and more of him, and he would give it to her.

Ciaran grabbed Hope’s hips with both hands and flipped her to her stomach. The floor pressed her luscious breasts up to her chin and she lifted her hips up to greet him. The softest skin of her body was luminescent, as the wet flesh was kissed by the fading light. It was beautiful, and Ciaran dove into her with passionate force. The rhythm they created was a divine dance of possession and submission, giving and taking. He reached a hand to her throat and pulled her tighter against him. Hope’s hand covered his, her nails digging into his fingers, but she was pressing it harder to the tender skin of her neck, gasping and sighing, as she opened herself up for still more.

She was his. She had given her body over, and the act was enough to make the fearsome tension inside of him finally boil over. The orgasm that had been out of reach his entire life split him open and burst with such force Ciaran was completely breathless. Hope’s core embraced the release and squeezed down all around him, coming right along with him. Ciaran couldn’t stop. Every thrust pulling out more, until her perfect body had milked every last drop.

The final growl of pleasure from Ciaran harmonized with Hope’s and echoed in the quiet house. Both of their arms gave out, as the sweet feeling of completion took over. Ciaran let his body fall to the floor beside her and pulled Hope to his chest. The skin of her back was moist against him, and he could feel her heart pounding. She was quiet aside from her hard breaths rushing in and out.

“Are ye alright?” Ciaran whispered into her hair.

Hope’s eyes were closed. Her cheeks rosy. She was so beautiful and sort of fragile, he had never noticed before, she probably hadn’t let him, but now with her cradled against him, she was small. Marcus could never get his hands on her.

She stirred beside him and rolled onto her back. When she looked up into his eyes and smiled, Ciaran nearly melted,

“I’m great. I’m kinda sore, but great.”

She wasn’t lying, she was great. But reality rushed back in. There was so much still to talk about. For now, Ciaran rolled onto his back and pulled her into the crook of his arm. Hope fit perfectly, and as she closed her eyes, Ciaran let himself drift off to the best sleep he’d had in ages.

If you want to see Red’s experience, check out the beta copy of Burn the Bone here.

#writeblr #affinity for pain #smut sunday #smut monday #oops #asks #hope turner #ciaran oconnor #my ocs #my writing #newborn city series

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